Barton Deadly Receptions

The Debut of Castlewood Manor
1. Auflage 2019
ISBN: 978-1-5439-5466-1
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, Band 1, 328 Seiten

Reihe: Deadly Receptions

The stakes have never been higher for American heiress Gemma Lancaster Phillips, now firmly ensconced as both resident and employee of her ancestral estate, Cherrywood Hall. Together with her cousin Evan, 8th Marquess of Kentshire, and her boyfriend Kyle, the estate manager, Gemma wants nothing more than to pull off the royal wedding of the season while planning the premiere and U.S. tour for the period drama series, Castlewood Manor, and attending the Telly Tiara awards show. But an ex-love threatens Gemma's and Kyle's relationship, while the reveal of explosive secrets has the potential to shatter Gemma's relationship with her cousin and her future at Cherrywood Hall.

Veronica Cline Barton has always held a passion for cozy mysteries, fashion, glamorous locales, and cocktails, which inspired her to start the My American Almost-Royal Cousin series. The Crown for Castlewood Manor is the first book in the series followed by Cast, Crew, & Carnage: The Filming of Castlewood Manor; Deadly Receptions; the Debut of Castlewood Manor; Mistletoe and Mayhem, Yuletide at Castlewood Manor; Double Trouble: Showtime at Castlewood Manor; Twins in the City: Playtime at Castlewood Manor; and Blood on the Vines: Harvest at Castlewood Manor, the latest book in the series. When not spinning mysteries, Veronica enjoys her time in California with her husband, Bruce, and their two cats, Daisy and Ebbie.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Barton, Veronica Cline

Leseproben

1

Nuptials in the Air

“I feel like a boiled lobster. When will this heat ever end?” Amy whined, fanning herself by the open French doors, looking out at the sapphire blue waters of the North Sea.

I looked up at her and smiled. Amy Princeton, my marketing assistant, was feeling the heat more than usual this afternoon. This July was proving to be the hottest on record, and not just here in the U.K. It seemed the entire planet was under a severe weather watch. The air was thick with humidity and not even the churning winds that skimmed the North Sea brought relief. It was making the planning of our inauguration wedding in the newly opened Wedding Pavilion here on the Cherrywood Hall estate a bit difficult, to say the least.

We had less than a week until the big event. As an added pressure, our first wedding involved the wedding of a royal grandson, Sir Timothy Oxmoor, MBE, son of the princess royal, Princess Zane, and his fiancé, Lady Kimberly Birchfield. The press corps were already lining up at the front gate, hunkering down to try and get the best positions for photos of the bride and groom, as well as the celebrity guests that were rumored to attend. We were expecting press outlets from all around the world to be out in full force, including the British television networks, to cover the wedding. No expense was being spared and expectations were set incredibly high. The pressure was on, one did not disappoint the royals no matter what, especially when it involved the ‘royal wedding of the season’.

“Let’s make sure we send down some drinks and food to the press. I don’t want any of them to drop over from thirst or hunger. We can ask Bridges to see to it on our way down to the pool,” I said, standing up from my desk, arms stretching in the air. I looked around the room at the sample photos, fabric swatches, candles, and bouquet samples that seemed to be tucked in every nook and cranny. At this point in time I wasn’t yet seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, but I didn’t want Amy to sense my inner panic, not with just one week to go.

“Oh, Gemma, can we? A swim would be perfect,” Amy said, turning from the French doors, grinning. “I’m at a great place to stop anyway. I’ve made the final check of the catering menu and there are just three changes this time. They just don’t seem to understand that no garlic, means, no garlic. I need to emphasize one more time that this is the queen’s rule, not mine.”

The royals had a strict no garlic rule for their cuisine. The queen did not like it, and garlic breath did make interacting with the public a bit dodgy. I grabbed Amy’s hand and laughed as we made our way down the staircase and headed to the swimming pool.

“Why don’t you have Chef Karl go over the final details with them this time. I think having the chef from Cherrywood Hall speaking with them might carry a bit more weight than you or me. Besides, they know if they handle this job well and get Chef Karl’s approval, it will bode well for future weddings and events.”

“Everyone wants a piece of this action, Gemma. You would not believe how many messages I get on social media every day from people and businesses. Everyone thinks we can get them an exclusive deal with the royal wedding or the Castlewood Manor crew. I never knew so many people fancy themselves as actors too,” Amy said, chuckling.

“I believe it. I get the same thing. Who knew there were so many decorating, fashion, hair and make-up artists in Maidenford? Royal fever is out of control too. I think everyone has chucked their day jobs hoping to break into anything showbusiness or royal wedding related. We’ll be lucky if Henry doesn’t decide to take a shot at it himself and close The Howling Pig. I’d never last without their cider and shepherd’s pie.”

“You’re not alone there. I think half of the village would be up in arms if Henry closed the Pig. Aunt Sally would start a campaign in the Maidenford Banner for sure.” Sally Prim was the editor of the local paper and a good friend, in addition to being Amy’s aunt. She was a major asset to our public relations efforts as well and had proven her support time and time again. No one in their right mind would take on Sally, not if they knew what was good for them.

We giggled and made our way across the grand hall and through the dining room to enter the conservatory, one of my favorite rooms here at Cherrywood Hall. Its glass ceiling, thirty-foot high waterfall, marble walkways, and luscious plants made it a favorite gathering place for us to rehash the day’s events. Bridges, the head butler at Cherrywood Hall was in there, managing the setup of a bar, table, and chairs for this evening’s cocktails. I waved as we walked over to him.

“Good afternoon Miss Gemma, Miss Amy,” Bridges said, with a slight bow of his head. “May I help you with anything?”

“Good afternoon, Bridges. I was wondering if you could have some cold drinks and sandwiches sent down to the front gate area. The press corps is already gathering there, and with this heat I want to make sure everyone has enough to eat and drink. I can’t believe they’re already lining up, but there’s not much we can do at this point.”

“Certainly, Miss Gemma. We’ll take care of it straightway. I suppose we should continue serving them until the big day?”

“Yes, we might as well plan on it. Best to keep them in good humor just in case. A happy press is a good thing,” I said, grinning.

Refreshments to the press secured, we headed over to the faux rock door that served as the gateway into the hidden pool room and entered, making our way into the changing rooms off to the side. Suits on, we jumped into the refreshing, cool water. As I floated across the pool, my eyes stared at the beautiful blue sky scattered with puffy clouds, magnified just a bit by the glass ceiling overhead. I couldn’t believe it had been almost eleven months since my cousin Evan, the 8th Marquess of Kentshire, had asked me here to help him and his estate manager, Kyle Williams, to win the estate competition for the new television period drama series production, Castlewood Manor. Cherrywood Hall won the competition, its one-hundred-fifty plus rooms and five-thousand-acre grounds having been selected by the judges affiliated with Rosehill Productions, the studio handling the production of Castlewood Manor. We had just completed the filming of season one of the series, with a few unfortunate tragedies that threatened to stop production.

Not all was tragic, however, Kyle and I had fallen in love, and for that I was very grateful. I might also add that he is now known as Sir Kyle, having been newly knighted by the queen for his work in technologically enhancing some of Britain’s finest estates. Castlewood Manor had changed my life, as well as my family and new-found friends. In my new role, I act as the marketing liaison between the Cherrywood Hall estate and the staff and executives at Rosehill Productions, handling all matters associated with the estate and the Castlewood Manor public relations and marketing activities. I also manage the planning of the weddings and special functions taking place at the Wedding Pavilion.

My tasks were growing daily. The public was anxiously awaiting the global debut of season one of Castlewood Manor in a few weeks. Once again, we were set to participate in a whirl wind of activities, both in London and overseas. After the premiere event in London, we would be traveling to the U.S. for a few weeks of glam filled events, and I couldn’t wait for the festivities to begin. Excitement was in the air for this debut, and word on the street whispered the series would be a huge hit.

The premise of the Castlewood Manor series storyline involves a very wealthy and somewhat controlling American mother who brings her daughters over to Britain in the early twentieth century to live at their estate, Castlewood Manor, to snag suitable aristocratic husbands. The American mother happens to be best friends with the queen, who is also trying to find suitable husbands for her princess daughters, albeit from the historical royal palaces. Castlewood Manor would explore the trials and tribulations of both mothers and their daughters as well as the deep, dark secrets that roam the halls of these aristocratic manor houses and palaces. My own mama, the actress Jillian Phillips, surprised us all last year by announcing she was playing a lead role in the Castlewood Manor series. Ma-ma landed the role of the American mother who just happens to be best friends with the queen.

I should take some time to introduce my family, since it’s a bit different from everyday American and British lineage and somewhat relevant to the Castlewood Manor series. My name is Gemma Alexandra Lancaster Phillips, and I’m a twenty-seven-year-old California girl, born and bred. I was awarded my PhD degree last year, my dissertation largely based upon my family’s heritage.

My American Lancaster family had been one of the first industrial giants to make huge fortunes as the railways pushed west across the United States. My great-great-grandfather was Patrick Lancaster, an entrepreneur who’d had the brilliant idea that the railways were going to...