Fashioned for Love Read online

  CHAPTER 1

  Rosalind gave her reflection a final glance. Her chestnut hair was swept up into an elegant bun secured by an antique, garnet decorated comb that matched her burgundy ball gown perfectly. The delicately beaded bodice created an illusion of a small waist and the full skirt of thick duchesse satin looked a lot more expensive and luxurious than it actually was.

  She looked every inch the privileged and eligible young woman she had been for most of her life. Nobody would guess that Rosalind had made the dress herself, using the material she had originally sourced for her graduate show at Parsons. But as there would be no show now, no stunning and unique designs to catch the eye of some big fashion house and launch her career, no material was needed so she had used it to create her dress for tonight’s event.

  There would be no New York for her anymore either. Her life was back in England. At least for now, until she could figure out what to do with her mother, the house and how to fund her studies.

  As she picked up her clutch bag from the dresser, she couldn’t quite believe that only 8 months ago she had been about to start her final year as a fashion design student at the renowned Parsons school of design. She was living in New York without a care in the world, spending the summer as an intern at the Tia O fashion house, one of the greatest most innovative American fashion companies at the moment.

  Of course, she had received no pay for her internship. Internships in the big fashion houses were so sought after that the companies did not have to pay for the students. So only the very fortunate and wealthy could apply for them. People like Rosalind Langley, whose obvious talents were backed up by her parents money. Students who had allowances so generous they could afford to live in Manhattan and work for free just to gain valuable experience.

  Then overnight everything had changed. Rosalind’s father, the formidable Lord Langley had died suddenly and the dire state of the family finances had come to light. Her mother was aloof and fragile at best of times, and had never been interested in the mundane practicalities of everyday life. So in order to try to keep the family going, Rosalind had stayed in England after the funeral to put her father’s affairs in order and taken the reigns of the estate, desperately trying to figure out how to keep a roof over her family’s head. Rosalind had to pull out of school, sublet her apartment and buy a one way ticket home. There was no money for school fees and rent. In fact there was no money at all.

  For days she had tried to get her head around the severity of the situation and buried herself in papers at her father's study, held meetings with the estate manager, his father’s accountant, solicitor and business manager and after every meeting she felt more and more desperate. At the beginning she had thought that they could maybe just let go some of the staff, rent out, or in the worst case sell some farmland and host a couple of weddings every year to keep them going, but very quickly it had become clear to her that they would have to sell up, the sooner the better as the rate the estate was hemorrhaging money was not sustainable and would eventually mean any money made from the sale would be gobbled up by creditors. She knew she had days, maybe a few weeks to decide who to sell to and in what terms.

  Even before the funeral the rumours about the Langley’s financial status had started circulating and with the rumours came the vultures. Property developers and antique dealers who had no shame and wanted to take advantage on somebody else's misfortune by making ridiculously low offers on the house, the land and the antique and art collection that has been in the Langley family’s, renowned for their taste and eye for talent, pride and joy for generations.

  One of the first things Rosalind had done to buy some time and stop them bleeding cash in every direction, was to open the house and grounds to the public, something Lord and Lady Langley had never wanted to do before. They already had five weddings and 10 corporate events booked for the next 3 months, guided tours around the house and grounds hosted by Rosalind herself were available for groups and she was looking into opening the house regularly for individual visitors but that would mean opening a gift shop and a café too. To to do that, she needed to spend money, money she didn’t have. She had also gotten rid of most of the staff, only a housekeeper who had now become a jack of all trades and a groundskeeper remained. Rosalind and her mother, Lady Langley, were now living in only a few rooms and the rest of the large house was kept cold and dark and only opened for paying public.

  One of the property investors showing keen interest in the house was notoriously ruthless hotel magnate Brockley Graham. He owned a chain of luxury hotels and was obviously keen to add Langley Hall, the grand Georgian mansion, to his portfolio of country houses. He was a self-made millionaire, in his late thirties, with a reputation of being a complete player both in business and in the bedroom.

  Brockley Graham had sent flowers and condolences to Lady Langley before the funeral and a month later contacted lady Langley to arrange a meeting to discuss some business that he had allegedly agreed with Lord Langley before his death. Lady Langley being her usual self, not interested in the nitty gritty of daily life and finances, had met him and for a moment Brockley had thought that this would be easy, to get the woman to sign and agree on a deal would be a breeze. But despite his reputation his conscience didn’t allow him to take advantage of this grief stricken lady, so he told let her think about it, speak to her business advisors and get back in touch in a couple of months after she had had time to process it all.

  Rosalind had not been in that meeting and had been very angry when she had found out her mother had met Mr Graham without speaking to her, or anybody before. Tonight, would be the first time Rosalind would meet Brockley Graham as he had bought a number of tickets to the charity ball. Rosalind had made sure she would be seated in his table for dinner so she could suss him out.

  There was a gentle knock on her bedroom door.

  “Rosalind, are you ready? The guests are starting to arrive” Their housekeeper Susan asked as she gently opened the door.

  “Sure Susan, I’m coming down right now. Is my mother ready?”

  Susan looked at her nervously. “Well, Lady Langley is ready but complains a migraine and feels like she shouldn’t come down at all.”

  Rosalind was fed up with her mother feeling ill every time the going got tough.

  “Susan, please tell her that she must come down. It is important that she’s there. And please tell me if she still tries to pull out. I will come and drag her out myself.”

  That evening they were hosting a big charity ball at Langley Hall. In previous years it used to be organised and paid for by Lord and Lady Langley but this year, Rosalind had gotten sponsorship for it, and luckily a bijou champagne house had jumped at the chance to raise the profile of their brand and be the first business allowed to host an event in this fine old house.

  The great hall was decked out in Maison Grandell colours, red and white and by coincidence the Rosalind’s dress matched it perfectly. Maison Grandell had provided all the champagne and paid for the catering and staff for the night and of course the fee for the usage of the venue, so all the Langley family had to do was to open their doors and attend the ball as co-hosts with the Maison Grandell staff.

  Driving towards to house, the guests were greeted with large Maison Grandell flags and their key staff members were present and seated with some of the most important guests.

  Rosalind fixed a smile on her face and walked across the landing to the top of the sweeping staircase. As a little girl she had always dreamed of walking down these stairs on her father's arm in a stunning white dress ready to be married to the man of her dreams. But instead tonight she walked down them alone in a red ball gown she’d sewn herself, ready to meet paying guests and hungry vultures.

/>   The grand entrance hall looked fantastic though, decorated with red and hundreds of white flowers and candles. The party organisers had done a great job. At the bottom of the stairs she saw two waiters ready to welcome the guests with silver trays laden with glasses of Grandell champagne and a very attractive blond man in a dinner suit turning around as he heard her footsteps. Brockley Graham looked at Rosalind approvingly.

  As she reached the bottom step he extended his hand.

  “Miss Langley I presume? I’m Brockley Graham, what a pleasure to finally meet you”

  Rosalind nodded a cold hello and extended her hand to shake Brockley's. She knew she should be polite and friendly but she didn’t trust this man.

  “I didn’t realise they were letting guests in already, normally they wait until the hosts are ready to greet them before opening the doors”

  “Oh well, I think I charmed the the PR lady at the door” He smiled cheekily “And also needed to see Mr Grandell before the party started. Apologies for being so keen. The house looks marvellous as indeed do you Ms Langley. Will Lady Langley be joining us?”

  As he finished his sentence they heard footsteps at the stairs.

  The delicate blonde silhouette of Lady Sylvia Langley appeared. She had been a renowned society beauty and a fashion model in her youth and she still looked striking. She was wearing dove grey chiffon gown with long sheer sleeves. She looked ethereal.

  “Yes I will be joining you Mr Graham. Such a pleasure to meet you again” She offered him her hand graciously as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

  As she passed Rosalind she said under her breath.

  “Rosalind, your father would turn in his grave if he knew we have sold out to Maison Grandell. We have never even rented the front lawn for a wedding. This is our home.”

  Rosalind was biting her lip not the tell her mother in front of mr Graham that if it wasn’t for Maison Grandell, tonight would not happen at all and none of their bills would get paid either. The coffers were empty, there was no money left and the charity benefiting from tonight should probably be the Langley family. They would probably have to sell most of the land and quite possibly the house just to pay to the creditors. So they really weren’t in a position to deny anybody who wanted to offer them money for the use of the house.

  “We’ll talk about this later mother” She just said and fixed a welcoming smile on her face as the double doors were opened and the guests started to arrive.

  “Rosalind darling, you know I don’t like discussing finances. They were always your father’s responsibility and I find it so vulgar, and not to mention boring to talk about money.”

  Rosalind sighed, she couldn’t believe her mother was having this conversation in front of the man who wanted to buy their house with the cheapest possible price. She really didn’t have any sense, only a person who had never had to worry about anything could be so naïve.

  It was the usual crowd, people from the local golf and polo clubs, some businesses entertaining their clients, celebrities, some of the wealthier locals. and this year, quite a few property developers clearly here to check out what they could possibly lay their hands on in bargain basement prices. Hello magazine was covering the the evening and their photographers were outside on the red carpet taking photos.

  Brockley Graham seemed to know a lot of the people. Rosalind could see him chatting to everybody, from the locals to the reporter from Hello magazine. And all the women, including Lady Langley looked like they would would eat off his hand,

  Tall with chiselled features and strawberry blond hair, broad shoulders and a perfectly tailored tuxedo, Brockley Graham was the younger, better looking and taller version of Robert Redford, with steely blue eyes that could disarm anybody and quite possibly disrobe most women.

  But Rosalind Langley wasn’t most women; she was extremely picky when it came to men. She had dated a few guys when she was in New York, but had no serious relationships. Besides, she didn’t want to fall in love and ride to the sunset and have half a dozen babies. She wanted to secure her mother's future and then build a successful fashion empire and then maybe think about husband and children when she was around 35 and established. At the age of 26 her priorities were somewhere else.

  But no matter how hard she tried to ignore him, there was something about Brockley that drew her towards him like a magnet. She couldn’t help and think that probably most women in the room felt the same sexual chemistry; it was nothing to do with her but everything to do with him. His air of confidence, charm and good looks.

  As they took their seats for dinner, Brockley looked somewhat surprised that Rosalind was seated opposite him in the top table. Rosalind looked him straight in the eyes with a determined, steely gaze. Brockley appreciated the young woman’s beauty, and found her feistiness endearing. After all he was nearly 15 years her senior and a successful businessman, so it was quite adorable that the girl thought she could play hardball with him.

  “Nice to finally meet you properly Miss Langley” He said. His voice was this strange but hugely appealing combination of razor blades wrapped in velvet.

  “I would like to say the same, but unfortunately I have not particularly looked forward to meeting you Mr Graham”

  Brockley laughed. “Call me Brockley, please I hope I can change your mind and make this into a pleasurable encounter. Let me tell you how terribly sorry I was to hear about your father. Lord Langley was the kind of gentleman that no longer exists.”

  To her horror Rosalind felt her eyes fill with tears. She took a deep breath and looked up into the ornate ceiling to stop herself crying.

  “Thank you. I didn’t realise you knew him”

  All the confidence had disappeared from her voice and she suddenly looked like a lost little girl and Brockley had to fight the urge to take her in his arms and tell her everything would be ok. Rosalind had thought she was over the worst of it, and that the anger she felt towards her father for having left them in this mess had overtaken the grief of losing him. But obviously that was just the front, deep down she was still the daddy’s girl she had been from the day she was born.

  Luckily the waiters arrived with the first course so Rosalind could distract herself for a while.

  “Yes, I had a pleasure of knowing him. We sometimes played golf and eventually discussed business quite a lot.” For some reason he was really annoyed that she hadn’t asked him to call her Rosalind. “I would like to talk to you about a business proposal we had agreed in principle before your father passed away. Could I get my assistant contact you with suitable times on Monday”

  “Mr Graham I know you have already met up with my mother and been circling the ruins for quite a while now. I have found no proof of any business deals you were discussing with my father or in fact, any evidence of the fact that my father ever even met you. I am happy to talk to you but we will have to start from scratch.”

  “Fine, we’ll do that then” Damn she was hot but so irritating. Obviously trying to conceal the fact she had no idea about business by pretending to be tough. But for Brockley, business was always a game that he enjoyed playing. He also had no doubts he would get his way in the end like he always did. Something told him that it would be best to keep his distance and not to mix business with pleasure this time. So he would keep his hands off Rosalind Langley, no matter how sexy she was and how tempting it would be to prove that he could seduce her. There were enough beautiful and very willing women who had nothing to do with work for him to date. In fact, he had considered bringing one of those women tonight but cancelled the last minute as he had wanted to face the Langley ladies alone.

  Lady Langley seemed really fragile and quite distant, the Rottweiler of a daughter was clearly in charge of business. Lady Langley was just hanging on, hoping somebody would sort out the mess her life had suddenly become. Brockley knew the type, aristocrats who had never worked or done much else than looked pretty and hosted parties, then when they hit hard times they couldn’t cope at a
ll, and expected to be saved by some wealthy knight in shining armour. Lady Langley was still fairly young, maybe in her early fifties and a very good looking lady, so she would have no trouble finding herself another wealthy husband in due course. In fact Brockley could even introduce her to a few excellent candidates to get her out of the way.

  As there were other people in their table the conversation quickly moved on and to her surprise Rosalind was actually having fun. It had a been a long time since she had attended a ball of any sort let alone in her ancestral home. And she couldn't remember ever spending an evening with such a fascinating and interesting man as Brockley Graham.

  Brockley entertained the table with funny stories about the hotel business and the odd requests of his guests, he seemed genuinely interested in Rosalind’s life in New York and her career aspirations. When he asked about her future plans she made it clear that the only reason she had returned to England was to help her mother through this hard time and sort out some practical matters before returning to her life in New York.

  Most people in their table seemed to take this as a fact, but Brockley knew that unless they sold the house or made some other kind of deal there would be no money for her to return to New York and to her studies. She would have to stay and work at Langley house for free taking American tour groups around and host so many weddings and corporate events that the house wouldn’t feel like a home to them anymore. They would be much better off turning the house into a hotel. He was sure he could get her to see that it was the smartest option.

  After dinner a big band started playing old favourites to get everybody dancing. And towards the end of the evening Rosalind found herself in the arms of a local boy she had known since she was a child, Zach Cooper, the local rugby star who was set to follow his father's footsteps in the city.

  Rosalind had often suspected that he had feelings for her but as much as she liked him, he really wasn’t her type. But tonight she fully enjoyed the attention from him and feeling carefree for the first time in ages. The fact that she noticed Brockley Graham looking at her every time their eyes met, made the dancing even more fun.