Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
“Yes, next month. May is perfect in England,” Courtney replied.
I then wielded the conversational gambit everyone used with someone like Courtney in order to manipulate the conversation for a long period of time.
“Is everything set? Where are you going to have it?”
As expected, an excited Courtney launched into a detailed litany of her wedding, the venue, her flowers, the breakfast, the song they’d dance their first dance to, the song she’d dance to with her father, and quite a bit about the villa they were letting in Cannes for their honeymoon.
Okay, so she didn’t do this on her own. I egged her on.
But this safe topic took us through drinks and into dinner, where I discovered the full table was set, with a tablecloth this time, more bouquets, candelabra, and little gold swans with calligraphed place cards set in their wings above each setting.
And again, I was impressed by the staff. Being able to pull this off with very little notice was astonishing.
My place was to Battle’s right, as had become per usual.
Courtney was to his left.
Tempie had the foot of the table with Rally to her right, Chelsea to her left.
Chastity was between Courtney and Rally.
Prue was between Chelsea and me.
Courtney had just finished talking about some day trips she and Rally might go on in the south of France when she asked, “Chastity, did you design these bouquets?”
Chassie nodded.
I was shocked.
“You did?” I queried.
“Chassie does all the flowers for the house,” Tempie stated.
“My God, they’re amazing,” I replied. “But I should have known. The gardens are stunning. You totally have the touch.”
“Thanks, Vivi,” Chassie whisper-replied.
“It’s too bad you don’t do wedding flowers anymore,” Courtney said to her fish course.
And this caused Tempie to shoot a look to Battle, whose attention raced to Chastity.
Uh-oh.
“I would absolutely have used you,” Courtney finished.
Chassie’s face was flaming red.
It was Prue, surprisingly, who forged into the breach.
“Yes, well, the shop was coming to be a bit much,” she said. Then immediately, “We should probably discuss tomorrow, since Battie and Vivi both have to work, and I’m going to need Tempie and Chassie in the attics for this project we’re doing.”
Tempie’s brows rose.
But I thought, you go, girl! since she just put the unexpected guests in a place where they’d have to find a way to entertain themselves.
“Court and I already discussed that,” Rally put in. “Considering you weren’t planning on having us. We’ve decided we’re taking Chelsea to the sea.”
“You are?” Chelsea asked.
“Yes. Torquay,” Courtney said.
“Torquay?” Chelsea inquired like one would say, “A sanitation plant?”
“Yes. A touch of shopping. A cream tea. The sea air,” Rally stated, then to Battle. “We’ll be back by cocktails.”
“Sounds perfect,” Battle purred.
Chelsea glowered at her fish.
I exchanged a beam with Prue.
“Okay, I can’t stand it anymore,” Courtney announced, everyone looked to her, and I was sure I wasn’t the only one who braced.
But I braced more when I saw she was gazing at me.
“I’ve read all your books,” she gushed.
I relaxed.
“I’m a big fan,” she said.
“Well, gosh. Thanks,” I muttered.
“My favorite is What Could Have Been,” she declared. “Your reimagining of Elizabeth’s relationship with Christopher Hatton was so romantic.”
“It’s my understanding there were rumors they were at it,” Rally put in.
“Oh yes,” Courtney practically panted. “I’d never heard of him before your book,” she told me. “So I looked into him, and it’s clear he was a particular favorite of hers, he built that big house, but wouldn’t sleep there until she did, which she never did, sadly, and he never married. Do you think maybe your conjecturing is true?” she asked hopefully.
“Sorry, it’s doubtful,” I replied on a small smile to take the sting out of dashing her hopes. “Most historians agree, although he was a favorite, earned nicknames from her and quite a bit of land, status and wealth, and he wrote copious love letters to her, so did many men at her court. Although there were rumors, no one really believes they were lovers or even in love. That said, it’s pretty clear she had his utter loyalty and devotion, and in her way, she returned that.”
“Fools,” Tempie said, “thinking, because she’s a woman, she’d be swayed by empty avowals of love.”
“I don’t know,” Battle replied. “I’m relatively certain her father reacted rather positively to people stroking his ego and shoving their heads right up his arse.”
Everyone laughed, including me.
“I can’t think of anything more boring than talking about dead people,” Chelsea announced.
The laughter died.
She put a flake of fish between her lips, swallowed and finished, “Or reading about them.”
“You don’t find Cleopatra fascinating?” Tempie asked.
“Another fool for love, I would say,” Chelsea answered.
“Marie Curie? Anne Frank? Amelia Earhart? Maya Angelou? Mary Wollstonecraft? Jane Austen?” Tempie pressed.
Chelsea turned to her. “I’m just saying I prefer to be in the here and now.”
“Oh, my apologies,” Tempe replied. “I thought you were insulting Vivi’s choice of a career and path to writing bestselling novels. My mistake.”