7.19 The Best Laid Plans

by

Brenda
(rtbp99@msn.com)

Niles was busy preparing dinner, his hands steeped in ground beef, when the phone rang. He knew that Mr. Sheffield was in his office and hoped that he would answer it. But, much to Niles' annoyance, the phone kept ringing incessantly. Finally, he grabbed the receiver, his greased hands holding it gingerly.

"Sheffield residence," he snapped. "Oh, Master Nigel! How are you? Yes, he's here but he seems to be rather busy at the moment. May I have him call you back?... Yes, I will. Good day, sir."

Niles wiped off the receiver and hung it back in its cradle. Seeing the baby bottles in the sink, his thoughts turned to the prospect of fatherhood.

"What are you grinning at, Broom Hilda?" C.C. demanded as she walked into the kitchen and suggestively leaned into his chest. "You get a new kitchen appliance?"

"As you well know woman, I don't need an appliance to make me happy," he shot back with a wicked smile on his face.

"So it seems," C.C. replied smugly as she glanced at the hamburger he was kneading.

"Dust Bag."

C.C. grabbed him and planted a quick, but passionate kiss on him, then broke away and nonchalantly poured herself some tea. "Make another pot of tea, would you, Hamburger Helper? I'll be in Maxwell's office," she purred, backing out of the kitchen.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Niles chuckled, assuming that Fran was in the office with Maxwell. "Besides, the door's probably locked."

"Why? Oh, not again! Can't they do... that... in the privacy of their own bedroom!" she cried out in exasperation. "Fine, tell Maxwell to call me when he wants to get to work. I'm going to go home and lie down for a while, Junior has been using my bladder as a punching bag all day."

"Call me on the intercom if you need anything," he called after her. Just as he said that, he heard two familiar voices coming through the baby monitor. He thought of telling his wife the office was not occupied after all but quickly changed his mind when he realized that C.C. still hadn't slowed down per doctor's orders. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," he scolded as he smacked himself on the forehead. "Why didn't I think of that tactic before?"

"Nigel, it's Maxwell. Niles told me that you called. What's going on, old man?... Married! You?... Yes, well congratulations! When is the big event to take place?... Three weeks!... Yes, of course we'll be there!... I'm very happy for you, Nigel.... Yes, we'll see you in a few weeks." Maxwell leaned back in his chair, absently twirling the pen in his hand. He was relieved that Nigel was settling down at last... and that he would be preoccupied with his fiancée and not flirting with Fran while they were visiting. He'd forgiven them both, but the thought of Nigel and Fran in close quarters still made him a little nervous. He scolded himself and left the office in search of his wife.

"Oh, there you are, darling," smiling as he walked into the kitchen. "I just had the most interesting conversation with Nigel. It seems he's getting married!"

"That's wonderful!" Fran and Niles chorused. "When? Where?" Fran continued excitedly.

"It seems the ceremony is in three weeks, in London. He mentioned that the reception would be held at the family estate." He noticed Fran squirm with the realization that she'd be at the mercy of his mother if they stayed there. He took her in his arms and gently leaned his forehead against hers. "If she steps out of line we can always stay in town. OK?" She nodded and snuggled deeper into his arms.

LONDON

The long flight passed without incident and their luggage was quickly passed through Customs and loaded into the waiting Bentley. Maxwell thoroughly enjoyed pointing out sites and landmarks from his past as they sped towards the estate. He'd forgotten how much he loved England's countryside and enjoyed sharing the highlights with his family. As they got closer, he focused his attention on Fran. She'd been noticeably quiet since turning off the main road. He cupped her chin in his hand and whispered, "I love you," as they pulled up to the house, if it could be called that. It was immense. Made of heavy gray stone, it towered above them, the door itself a solid, eight-foot tall slab of oak.

A spry gray-haired man of about 70 years greeted them at the front steps. "It's so nice to see you again, Sir."

Maxwell took the wrinkled, but strong hand in his and returned the greeting. "Richard, you remember my children, Margaret, Brighton and Grace?" Nodding to each of the baby carriers that Brighton and Maggie were holding, "the newest additions, Jonah and Eve. And, this is my wife, Fran," he finished proudly. Everyone laughed when Richard mentioned that he'd heard all about Fran. Max responded with a smirk, "I'm sure you have."

Richard arranged for their luggage to be brought upstairs and led them to their rooms. He watched as Fran and Max settled the babies into the room next to theirs and marveled at the tenderness Maxwell showed his new son and daughter. It was certainly not normal Sheffield behavior. He smiled and quietly interrupted. "Dinner is precisely at 6:00pm. Please ring if you need anything."

Tired from their journey, they all decided to nap before dressing for dinner. Fran and Maxwell had other ideas and spent the next few hours in bed, but not sleeping. Content, they relaxed in each other's arms and talked quietly. "You know, I've never done... that... in my mother's house. I feel like, any minute now, she will walk in and catch us, and I'd be in big trouble," he chuckled and gazed into her dark eyes, "But it would definitely be worth it."

They heard a knock on the door and looked at one another in disbelief.

"Yes, who is it?" Hearing his mother's voice, he continued, "Ummm, just a minute!" Max called out as he scrambled to get his pants on. Fran ran for the bathroom, trying to gather up the clothes strewn across the floor as she went. With Fran safely in the bathroom, he answered the door with his shirt still partially unbuttoned. "Hello, Mother. It's so good to see you again." He kissed her on the cheek, grateful that Fran was keeping quiet. "I was just about to take a shower. May we chat later, at dinner, perhaps?" He asked, just as the shower started up.

A look of disgust crossed Elizabeth's face as she took in the state of her son's attire. "Oh, she's in there. I should have known," she spat as she turned away from the door.

"Mother, she's my wife. And, while I realize that you two will never see eye to eye, I expect you to at least be civil to her. We wanted to stay here so you would have a chance to spend some time with your grandchildren and meet your newest ones, but if you can't be civil towards Fran, then we will all move to The Conaught for the remainder of our visit. It's entirely up to you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to shower and dress for dinner." He kissed his mother on the cheek once more and slowly closed the door, fervently hoping that things would work out.

As was customary in this house, the dinner conversation was muted and dull, centering mainly on the wedding and who was arriving when. Jocelyn was scheduled to arrive the next morning. Maggie's husband, Michael was due to fly in from a photo shoot in Paris the next evening, and Nigel and his fiancée were to arrive day after next. His fiancée, Dominique, would stay at The Conaught until the wedding.

"Nigel mentioned that he had invited C.C., why didn't she come with you?" Elizabeth inquired, casting an accusing glance at Fran.

"Of course, you wouldn't know about C.C since you haven't bothered..." Fran gently nudged Max with her foot. He redirected his thoughts and continued. "C.C. and Niles were married the day that Fran delivered the twins and she's too far along in her pregnancy to fly." Max glared smugly at his mother, knowing just what was going through her mind. He looked around the table at Fran and the children. "What do you say I give you all the grand tour of the grounds tomorrow? Niles and I did a great deal of exploring during the summers. We discovered some wonderful areas of the property that no one ever seemed to enjoy." His suggestion stimulated the conversation and soon the children were chattering on about what they wanted to see and do while in England, much to Elizabeth's chagrin.

She shot Fran another dark look. 'This woman has had far too much influence on these children, and on my son,' she thought miserably. 'Am I the only one left in this family with any semblance of dignity? Jocelyn married her chauffeur, Maxwell married his children's nanny, and now Nigel is marrying some dancer. They all take after their father.' She sat there quietly, absorbed in thought.

The next morning, the cook packed the family a picnic and Maxwell led them on a tour of the estate grounds. Maggie, Brighton and Grace took turns carrying the basket and the babies, as Maxwell searched for long-forgotten trails with Fran in tow. Hand in hand, they enjoyed the adventure unfolding before them. They spent most of the day laughing and exploring, finally returning to the main house exhausted but happy.

Jocelyn had arrived earlier in the day and greeted them in the entryway just as a taxi pulled up, depositing a very tired Michael at the doorstep. After the greetings and introductions subsided, they all trooped up to their rooms to freshen up for dinner. Maggie and Michael, arms tightly entwined, leading the way.

With the addition of Jocelyn and a rather shy Michael, the dinner conversation had returned to a conservative hum, compared to the previous night. Elizabeth had regained control over her family and their actions. She smiled thinly at Fran, her smug satisfaction obvious.

Nigel and his fiancée arrived the next afternoon. Grace had seen the car wind it's way up the drive and by the time the front door opened, the entire family was waiting to greet them. They exchanged hugs and handshakes. Fran, last in line, tried to keep her greeting brief but Nigel held her a little longer than anyone expected.

"Nigel, please let go of my wife," Maxwell demanded.

"Oh, don't get yourself in a knot Max! I don't plan to ravish your wife... at least not right now." Nigel winked as he loosened his grip on Fran.

"Nigel, knock it off. That's not funny," Fran scolded as she extracted herself from his arms and grabbed Maxwell's hand. "You should be ashamed of yourself. And, where's your fiancée?"

"Oh, she forgot something in the car." He poked his head out the door and called out, "Dominique, are you coming? The family is waiting to meet you." He escorted her through the door and introduced her to each of them. She had beautiful shoulder length auburn hair and a soft, timid voice, laced with a heavy French accent. Other than those basic difference's, she bore a striking resemblance to Fran. She was petite, with the legs of a dancer, and a figure to match. Her clothes were colorful and vibrant, and small.

Max looked at her, then at Fran, back to Dominique, and finally to Nigel. He was sure that everyone else noticed the similarity, too. Desperate to extract them all from this potentially volatile situation, Maxwell suggested that his family do a little shopping in town before dinner, giving Nigel and his fiancée time to chat with Elizabeth and Jocelyn. 'That should be fun,' he mused as he glanced at his mother's pale face.

In the car, Fran couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "Did she remind you guys of anyone?" she finally blurted out.

"Yeah, Fran! You!" they all laughed.

"Oy, this can't be good." She looked at Max, who was not smiling. "Maybe we should move to the hotel. Your mother is not going to like this. And whad'ya wanna bet she takes it out on me?" She complained, snuggling against Max for comfort.

"Let's see how tonight goes, OK?" He lifted her chin with his finger and kissed her tenderly.

Just after dinner, Elizabeth found Fran alone in the sitting room, listening to the twins' steady breathing through the portable baby monitor sitting on the end table. Her thoughts had drifted to the fact that Elizabeth had not spent more than a few moments with her new grandchildren. She had to admit that she wasn't really surprised, but had hoped that by bringing them here Elizabeth would accept their marriage, and their love for one another. A stern voice broke into her thoughts. "There you are. Richard and the chef are busy preparing for the wedding reception tomorrow. They need a few bottles of wine from the cellar. Would you mind running down to fetch them and deliver them to the kitchen? It would be a great help," she asked smugly, handing Fran a list before abruptly turning to leave.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she muttered after Elizabeth had left. She asked the maid for directions to the wine cellar and, after a few wrong turns, finally found the correct door. The room was cool and smelled of fermented grapes. There was a row of large oak casks along one wall, and the other walls were covered, floor to ceiling with bottles of wine, resting in their wooden cradles. She had found all but one bottle when the door opened behind her. Nigel's voice startled her and she almost dropped the bottle she had just picked out.

"Nigel, what're you doin' down here?"

"Well, Mother asked me to pick out some wine for the reception tomorrow. What are you doing here?" he asked, examining one of the bottles that she'd selected.

"That's weird, she asked me to get these for her," holding out the list she was given. "She said that everyone else was busy so she asked me... umm, do you think she would set us up. I mean, she hates me and she's probably not too fond of your fiancée, right? What if she set us up to get caught down here together, making Max angry at me and possibly breaking the two of you up before the wedding?" The words tumbled from her mouth in a breathless cascade.

Nigel grabbed her by the shoulders. "Fran, please, let's not jump to conclusions." He walked over to the heavy oak door and pulled on the handle. It came off in his hand. "OK, now you can jump," he sighed. "I can't believe she would do this! Although, there's no one I'd rather be stuck in here with than you. Except, maybe, Dominique," he winked.

"Oh, no you don't, Mister! You stay on your side of the cellar and I'll stay on mine. I don't want anyone else in this meshuggene house to jump to the wrong conclusions, especially my husband!" She sat down in despair, shivering involuntarily.

Richard, have you seen Fran? I've been looking for her since just after dinner."

"Sorry, sir. The only people I've seen since dinner are the elder Mrs. Sheffield and Maurice, the chef. We've been preparing for tomorrow's festivities. Maybe she got lost. It is a big house."

Max nodded in agreement and wandered towards the sitting room. Dominique stopped him in the hall. "Maxwell, have you seen Nigel this evening? I can't seem to find him and I wanted to say goodnight before returning to the hotel," she smiled.

Elizabeth listened eagerly to their conversation from the sitting room.

Max squirmed uneasily, his thoughts drifting to back Nigel's entrance earlier in the day. "Well, it appears that I've lost track of my wife as well," he replied, a tinge of anger in his voice.

"You don't think... she and Nigel..." her thought trailed off mid-sentence.

"No! I do not. Nigel might have asked Fran to marry him a few years ago, but she stayed with me. She loves me, not him." His jealousy flared briefly. Seeing Dominique's surprised reaction, he stopped. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry. I thought you knew."

Elizabeth stared at the doorway in utter disbelief. 'So that explains the display this morning. Even better.' She heard their footsteps and voices recede down the hallway and smiled.

The cold air in the cellar had chilled her to the bone and she sat huddled in the corner, shivering. Nigel had offered to hold her to keep her warm, but she adamantly refused, despite his concern that she would become ill if she didn't stay warm. At this point, she was way past cold and her body temperature had already dropped a degree or two. Worried thoughts of the twins kept her mind floating on the edge of consciousness.

Nigel was angry with himself, knowing that the scene he had caused earlier in the day was the reason Fran wouldn't let him near her. Despite his assurances that he would remain a perfect gentleman, she steadfastly refused his help and curled up in the opposite corner. He could she her shiver uncontrollably from his vantage point and suddenly wished he hadn't acted like such a cad earlier in the day. Feeling the cold creep into his body, he took another drink from the open bottle of wine, before nodding off. The banging on the door startled him out of a light sleep.

"Fran? Nigel? Are you in there?" Max yelled, trying to open the door.

"Finally! Get us out of here! The door handle broke and we've been stuck in here for hours," Nigel yelled back. He walked over to Fran and kneeled down, shaking her gently. "Fran? Fran, wake up." Nothing. "Max, hurry up! I can't get her to respond!"

The latch finally gave way and Max tumbled into the cellar. "Dominique, don't let that door close," he instructed as he rushed to Fran's side.

"Max, she wouldn't let me sit with her to keep her warm," he explained in panic. He withdrew at the look his brother shot him. He glanced at his fiancée and got a similar look. Nigel quietly followed Dominique out as Max bundled his wife into his arms and carried her up the stairs.

Elizabeth watched with interest from the balcony, surprised at the quiet intensity of her eldest son as he carried his wife's limp body up the stairs. She certainly hadn't planned on harming her. She had only intended to drive a wedge between Maxwell and this woman he'd married, and between Nigel and his classless fiancée.

Once in their bedroom, Max stripped off Fran's clothes and drew a warm bath for her. After soaking in the warm water for a while, she finally came around. She smiled weakly at Maxwell and reached for his hand. "Oh, Max. I had the strangest nightmare. I dreamt that your mother arranged to lock me and Nigel in the wine cellar together so that you would be mad at me and Dominique would leave Nigel. It was so cold in there, and I wouldn't let Nigel come near me... and then I woke up... here, in the bathtub. Why are you giving me a bath? Not that I'm not enjoying it, mind you." She noticed the odd look that spread across his face and smiled playfully. "Come to think of it, why aren't you in here with me?" She added, grabbing him by the lapels and pulling him, fully clothed, into the bath with her. "Now, isn't that better?" she laughed.

Meanwhile, Dominique was giving Nigel the third degree on his history with Fran.

"Darling, it was over three years ago! Fran loves Max and I love you. Now, will you please stop being jealous and forgive me for not telling you about it?" Nigel pleaded as he took her into his arms. "My God, I can't believe Mother actually set us up like that. She probably figured that she could break us apart and cause problems between Max and Fran. Well, she's not going to bloody well succeed on either count!"

Dominique bid Nigel a sweet good night and was driven to the hotel. Nigel mulled over ways to get even with his Mother as he settled in for his last night as a bachelor.

Breakfast was quiet and strained, as by that time everyone in the house knew what had transpired the night before. The children ate solemnly, refusing to look at their grandmother, although they realized that their parent's relationship was far too secure to be damaged by a childish prank like that. On the other hand, it was rather fun to give their grandmother the cold shoulder for being so nasty to Fran. Even Michael was surprised that Fran, not normally given to hiding her feelings, was being so gracious under the circumstances.

Just as they were finishing breakfast, Fran finally gave in to her feelings and quietly excused herself from the table. Max, glaring at his mother, stood immediately and followed her out of the dining room. He quickly caught up with her as she opened the terrace door and silently slipped an arm around her waist.

"Sorry, sweetie. I was just about to say something that we'd all regret and I thought it'd be safer if I left the room. Besides, I needed some air. The air in this place is stale." She and Max walked arm in arm through the beautifully manicured garden, each lost in their own thoughts. "Ya know, it's kinda sad that she's so miserable. She's got all this money, an unbelievable house, and yet..." She shrugged and Max stopped to embrace her tightly.

"It's her choice, Fran. I'm so sorry I put you through this... depravity. Let's go back inside. We'll gather the children, pack our things and enjoy the rest of our visit from The Conaught. OK?" He drew her body even closer and kissed her, his lips hungrily searching for forgiveness.

"Mmm, after a kiss like that, I have a better idea... isn't there someplace around here that you've always... ah... fantasized about... um... making love?"

Max blushed. "Well, actually... come with me, I know just the place," he grinned, practically dragging her towards a little used path at the far end of the garden.

"Way to go, Dad!" Brighton cheered as the four of them looked out at the garden scene with amusement.

"Brighton! Quit being so nosy." Maggie laughed and leaned her head on Michael's shoulder.

"I hope they get back before the wedding." Gracie quipped as they left the sitting room to check on their little brother and sister.

By 12:30pm, the whole house buzzed with activity in preparation for the reception. Fran and Maxwell slipped in the back entrance, hoping to sneak up to their room to change before anyone noticed them. It was not to be, as they immediately bumped into Brighton, who grinned wryly at their slightly disheveled state.

"Mom, Dad. We'll be leaving for the church in an hour. You'd better go change," he croaked.

"B., you're beginning to turn blue. What, may I ask, is so funny?" Fran inquired as innocently as she could without bursting into laughter herself.

Brighton cleared his throat. "Well Dad has some hay sticking out of his collar." Now almost choking, he managed to ask his father, "Would you like me to remove it before Grandmother sees you?"

Fran gave out first, and soon all three of them were laughing hysterically. That is, until Elizabeth Sheffield strode up to them. They were unsuccessful at wiping the smirks off of their faces and Fran felt like she was back in school. She couldn't help but utter, "Uh oh, we're in trouble now." Which resulted in another fit of laughter.

"Um, excuse us Mother, we need to go get ready for the wedding." Max grabbed Fran's hand before his mother could respond and ran for the stairs, dropping a few bits of hay along the way.

"They should be ashamed of themselves, acting like common teenagers," Elizabeth spat as she stormed down the hall.

"I think I've just been insulted." He grinned, relieved that his parents were not affected in the least by his manipulative grandmother.

The cathedral was stunning and Fran marveled at the exquisite architecture. Surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the church, and all of her children, her thoughts drifted to her own wedding, not so long ago, and to the wonderful man she married. She smiled and sighed.

"What's wrong, Fran?" Maggie asked quietly.

"Oh, nothing, sweetie. Seeing all this..." she said with a wave of her hand, "reminds me of just how lucky I am. I love you guys so much." She smiled broadly as she squeezed Maggie's hand and put her arm around Grace.

"We love you too, Fran." A knowing smile lit Grace's face. "Don't let Grandmother get to you. If we ever had to choose between her and you, you'd win hands down. Oh, they're starting the music!"

Fran smiled and looked around. "Speaking of your Grandmother, where is she?"

At this moment, Elizabeth Sheffield was desperately trying to extricate herself from the women's dressing room in the basement of the church. She had slipped into the room just after the bride and her bridesmaid's had moved to the anteroom upstairs for the final preparations. Hoping to find something in Dominique's personal effects that would give her good cause to stop the wedding, she rifled through her things. She finally gave up in defeat and hurried to the door.

She was now banging furiously on that door, with the broken door latch lying at her feet. She could hear a faint melody coming from the floor above.

Maxwell's eyes roamed the church as he stood next to his younger brother. He caught Fran's eye and smiled. Dragging his gaze from hers, he continued his search. "Nigel, where's Mother? She's still not in her seat," he whispered as the music started.

"I don't know, Max. Maybe she's decided to avoid my wedding too. I guess we're all a bloody disappointment to her." He grinned and nudged his brother as the ceremony started and his bride-to-be approached the altar.

Elizabeth was finally discovered and released when the two bridesmaids returned to gather their things. She rushed up the stairs just as the guests were leaving for the reception. Many of them congratulated her and commented on how proud she must be. "Yes, quite," she lied politely.

By the time she arrived at the estate, the party was in full swing. Nigel spotted his mother as she entered the foyer. "Oh, Mother, there you are! Well, at least you were able to attend the reception, if not the wedding," he remarked sarcastically before making his way through the crowd of well-wishers to find his wife. The smile that crossed his face was not just from being newly married to a wonderful woman, but also of smug satisfaction. He didn't need his mother's approval any more than Maxwell did.

Nigel and Dominique watched in silent admiration as his brother and sister-in-law danced. It was as if there was no one else in the room. "You know, Darling, I hope that we will always be that happy. Max, Joc and I were never shown affection while growing up, but seeing the two of them together, and having you by my side, I now know what we've all missed." He kissed his new bride and smiled. "Come on, dance with me."

Elizabeth stood alone in the doorway, absorbing Nigel's words, as she watched her sons dance with their wives, and thought about the choices she'd made in life. Those that worked... and those that didn't.

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7.20 Oys in the Hood by Jennifer and DreamKate Maxwell's sitcom is threatened with being removed from the schedule for sweeps, but Fran and her internet friends get together to change the network's mind.

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