The Highest Bidder

By Lois Edmonds

When the mysterious Count Celantano bids an enormous amount for Rachel’s dinner party lot in a charity auction, she soon discovers it isn’t her culinary skills he wants. She finds herself falling for him, but she is devastated to learn he isn’t free to love her. His betrothal to a young girl he barely knows was a promise to his dying father and not to be broken at any cost.
Despite this, their love blossoms beyond their control. When their partings became more than she could bear Rachel tells her Count to stay away – forever. Will the Count follow his duty and marry the fiancé he didn’t love, or will his desire for his English Rose prove too strong?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lois Edmonds
• Release date: Oct 7, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465920294

Lois Edmonds

The author has two loves:writing and painting pet portraits. After many years in the UK as a professional charity fundraiser and marketer, Lois now lives in Brisbane Australia, where she divides her time between writing, painting, and charity work.

Book preview

The Highest Bidder

Lois Edmonds

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Lois Edmonds

Cover image by Neils Photography

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Chapter One

Rachel was putting the finishing touches to her make-up when there was a knock on the door of her hotel suite.

She opened the door, and greeted her father. Dad, hi!

Harry looked appreciatively at his daughter and gave a low whistle before enclosing her in his arms to pull her affectionately against his broad chest. Wow, aren’t you going to be the belle of the ball – as usual!

Rachel was wearing a softly draped gown in wheat-coloured silk that moulded to her curves and dipped to a deep V at the back. Her corn-coloured hair was long and silky, dressed simply with tiny gold clasps and left free to flow down her bare back. Elegant drop earrings in amber and diamonds complemented the gown.

Rachel had inherited her mother’s slim build, finely moulded features, and very fair colouring. Combined with her father’s height and startling blue eyes, the end result was a willowy, graceful and beautiful young woman who turned heads wherever she went.

By the time Rachel was a teenager, she had attracted the attention of model agencies, but that way of life had never tempted her. Her love of cooking had led her to train as a chef, and she now ran her own catering business.

Rachel laughed. Oh, Dad, you say that every year. I think you may be a touch biased, don’t you?

His voice was gruff when he replied. A father’s privilege. Your mother would be very proud of you. He kissed her gently on the cheek, and Rachel hugged him and tucked her arm in his.

Well, you don't look so bad yourself, for an old brickie! Come on, take me to the ball!

Harry was still a handsome man in his early sixties. His build was a little more thickset these days, but he was still very fit from spending his whole life working out of doors. He had never been the sort of boss to sit in a cosy site office; he much preferred to be ‘hands on’ even when his successful construction firm took on bigger and more complex contracts over the years. By his reasoning, he would rather employ brains to do the boring office work than struggle with it himself – and it meant he could continue to apply to every project his legendary fierce control of quality and attention to detail that had made his one of the most sought after firms in the South East.

His broad frame looked a little constrained in his black dinner suit, as even after many years of attending formal occasions such as this, he was still uncomfortable in what he called ‘fancy’ attire. He was much more at home in jeans and a hardhat, climbing over one of his building sites.

The annual Gardenia Ball, which was held in May each year in the ballroom of one of London's top hotels, was one of the highlights of the City's Charity Ball season. Rachel had been organising this event for the past five years, as a fundraising event to raise money for multiple sclerosis

Harry had adored his lovely wife Anne, and he had been devastated when she finally succumbed to this crippling disease six years ago. Slowly, agonisingly, it had overtaken her increasingly frail body, but she fought it with an indefatigable spirit that left its mark on all who knew her. This annual event was Harry’s way of honouring the memory of his brave wife, raising money to help the many other sufferers of this insidious disease.

Rachel always escorted Harry to the Gardenia Ball. He had no inclination to invite a female partner, and Rachel was far too occupied with making sure the evening ran smoothly to have the time to devote to a partner of her own. The arrangement suited them both perfectly.

Not that Rachel had a special male friend to invite anyway. There had been a series of short-lived relationships in the past few years, but nothing heavy. Besides, in her line of business, evenings and weekends were spent working, which made it rather difficult – though not impossible, she admitted to herself - to sustain a relationship.

Truth was, she admitted to herself, she had yet to meet that special someone she would be willing to re-arrange her life for.

It was still half an hour before guests were due to arrive when Rachel and Harry entered the ballroom. While Harry went off to the bar, Rachel made a last inspection of the room. It passed her critical assessment with flying colours; the large space was transformed into something intimate and romantic in the soft glow of the many candles on the superbly presented tables.

Gardenias had been her mother’s favourite flower. The delicate perfume of the flower arrangements mingled with the scent of the candles, and the gleaming crystal wineglasses reflected thousands of pinpoints of mellow light. She had been working all day to create the effect, and she was delighted with the result.

As guests started to arrive, Rachel assumed the position of hostess, guiding people to their tables. She knew many of the elegantly attired ladies personally through her catering activities, and she was especially familiar with her father's associates and friends in the building industry who always supported the event.

Growing up, Rachel had been as much at home on a construction site as she was nowadays in the kitchen. As her mother’s illness progressed, Rachel had spent more and more of her early years in the care of her father. Whenever her mother had been too ill to care for her, Rachel would spend the school holidays with her father and his colleagues on building sites all over the South East. Many of these men she looked upon as uncles, and they had watched Harry’s lively young tomboy daughter grow into a confident, lovely young woman, with a fondness akin to that they held for their own children.

Then there were the stalwarts of the charity scene, especially Mavis Armstrong and Jennifer Clarkson. They always filled several tables with their rich and influential friends. This year was no exception.

Rachel noted with pleasure that there were quite a few unfamiliar names on Jennifer’s tables – including a real Italian Count – and she always welcomed the opportunity to part new guests from their money - all in a good cause, of course!

A large party moved toward Rachel, and she recognised Jennifer Clarkson and her husband Sam. So, Rachel mused, somewhere in this group was the Count Celentano. She glanced at the portly, sallow-skinned gentleman walking beside Jennifer; that must be him, she decided.

He looked every inch a noble gentleman who had indulged a little too often in good food and wine!

Guests were arriving in droves now, and she had no time to investigate the group further. Rachel led the party to their assigned tables, and then returned quickly to the entrance with a welcoming smile to the next party in line.

Rachel never noticed the dark eyes at the back of the Clarkson group of guests, which were fixed on the tall, willowy hostess. These eyes remained on the young woman in the slinky gold dress as she led the party to their places. They continued to follow her as she showed other guests to their tables, and stayed on her until she sat down at her own table.

With a satisfied, if rather tired sigh, Rachel took her place next to her father. All of the guests were settled at their tables, and the buzz of conversation was slowly increasing in volume as the first cocktails were taking effect. She glanced around with a sense of satisfaction.

Even though these occasions were hard work, she still managed to find time to enjoy the sumptuous surroundings and appreciate the superb cuisine – especially as she had not had to prepare the food herself!

With a practised eye Rachel watched as the meals were served and she was pleased to note that the catering was as excellent and well received as one would expect of a hotel of this calibre – and as her guests would expect for the exorbitant cost. Not that anyone minded when they knew it was for a good cause, but it was so much easier to relieve them of even more money if they had enjoyed their dinner!

As the coffee and chocolates were being served, she left the table discreetly to make the final preparations for one of the evening’s highlights. After the dinner and before the dancing commenced, there was to be the Grand Charity Auction. As the main fundraising opportunity of the night, it was important for the bidding to run as smoothly as possible while the guests were mellow with excellent food and plenty of wine.

There were some unique and exciting items up for auction this evening. A day on the Solent for four people on a benefactor’s private yacht, a round of golf with an A-list celebrity, a signed England Football shirt, and, of course, her own usual offering – a dinner party for six people at a London venue of the successful bidder’s choice.

Rachel’s flourishing catering business provided small, exclusive dinner parties for people in their own homes. Cooking had always been her passion, and from the time she could reach the kitchen bench without a stool, she had been concocting tasty meals in an effort to whet the appetite of her ailing mother. She had so many wonderful memories of the hours she spent in the warm fragrant kitchen of her family home, preparing meals and experimenting with food under the expert guidance of her mother. Those times she had shared with her mother had been so precious, and it gave Rachel some solace to know her mother had taken great joy from being able to pass on her culinary secrets to her daughter and to know that they would live on after she was gone. Even now when she was cooking she could feel her mother’s presence, still guiding Rachel as she used the skills she had learned to develop new delicious recipes to delight her dinner guests.

She had a growing reputation for innovative, colourful and delicious food, and most of her clients were former guests at one of her dinner parties, or had been introduced to her through personal recommendations. Her auction lot always attracted good-sized bids – and it raised valuable funds for the charity.

Each table had been provided with cards with the list of auction items, and envelopes for the sealed bids. These had been collected at the end of the meal, and Rachel helped the Master of Ceremonies sort the bids into categories.

Rachel groaned inwardly when she opened the bids for her dinner party lot.

The highest bid of £5,000 was from William Harper – again!

William had won the meal for the past three years. He was one of her father’s oldest friends and business associates and even though she had known William for as long as she could remember, it didn’t mean she had to like him. There had been times in her early teens when she was on a building site with her Dad that she sensed William was watching her too closely and it had made her uneasy. Some innate instinct had prompted her to give him a wide berth then, and even as she matured she had avoided giving him an opportunity to get her alone at the not infrequent times their two families socialised. When their wives both passed away, the family gatherings ceased and she rarely saw William these days. She suspected he made these generous bids not for any altruistic reason, but in order to have an excuse to have her cook in his kitchen. Even though she always took her assistant with her, it was not a comfortable or enjoyable time. He was a lecherous old man, and the evenings were something of an ordeal for Rachel as she endeavoured to keep away from his wandering hands.

She had to remind herself it was all for a good cause – or else she would have punched him on the nose more than once!

Leaving the Master of Ceremonies to make the announcements, Rachel took her seat again. The MC was about to rap the rostrum with his gavel, when he suddenly leaned forward and exchanged a few words with a dark stranger standing beside the stage. The man passed over an envelope and made his way to the side of the room.

The MC opened the envelope, shuffled the papers on the rostrum, made a few notes, and then called for order.

Ladies and Gentleman! May I have your attention, please! The clear voice of the MC rang out over the hubbub of many conversations, bringing a hush over the room.

Ladies and Gentleman, I wish to announce the results of our Grand Charity Auction. Once again, it has been a fiercely contested competition, and I am delighted to announce that the total raised tonight is a magnificent £140,000!

A huge swell of applause filled the room.

Rachel was sure she had heard wrong – or perhaps the Master of Ceremonies had made a rare mistake – but the total should have been £45,000, not £140,000!

She would have to make a retraction after the auction was over….

As he made each individual announcement there was further applause, and usually a round of banter, on the winning tables.

The MC came to the last item, Rachel’s dinner party for six. An expectant hush settled as the guests awaited the final result.

Ladies and Gentlemen, those of you who attend these balls regularly will be aware that this last item is always hotly contested – and I must say, this evening’s offering is no exception. In fact, I am almost speechless!

A flurry of laughter filtered around the room, as those who knew the MC also knew that lack of speech was one trait he did not suffer from!

I am delighted to announce that Rachel Chapman’s dinner party for six people goes to the highest bidder, Count Celentano on Table 32, for the spectacular sum of £100,000!

The 400 guests sat in stunned silence for a moment, and then the room erupted in thunderous applause. Rachel sat frozen in her chair.

She could not believe her ears! That was an enormous amount of money – just for a meal!

In a daze, she accepted the congratulations of the guests on her table, and the hilarious comments from her father’s construction cronies came thick and fast.

"Does he know he is only buying the meals, not the cook?

Which course are you then, Rachel?

I wonder what he will order for dessert?

Harry silenced their ribald laughter with a stern look, while William Harper looked most disgruntled at losing out to this Count Celentano.

Rachel smiled to herself – at least now, she didn’t have to spend the evening of the dinner party evading William's questing hands!

Rachel could not understand why anyone would