In her private sitting room, Diana took the seat on the sofa next to her mama. Her brain still spun from the rapid-fire events of the morning, and more than a few questions rattled around and bobbed to the surface. A candid conversation with Andrew awaited as soon as she could slip away, but at present she and Mama had their own important topics to cover.
She opened her laptop to Greenbrier’s events calendar then angled it, so Mama could see the screen. “We’re booked every weekend through the summer.” Taking hints had never been Jackie’s strong suit, so Diana relied on a visual to support her cause.
Folding her legs beneath her, she flipped to October where they had vacant dates. “What date were you thinking for the wedding?”
Jackie took her glass of iced tea from coffee table in front of the sofa, squeezed the lemon wedge, and sipped the brew. “Sunday.”
Diana faced her mama. “Which Sunday?”
“This one.”
The laptop rattled to the floor. “Excuse me?”
“At three in the afternoon. That will give Pastor Beecham time to get his Sunday dinner after the morning service. It will be in the chapel instead of the larger sanctuary. I want the place to be filled with flowers and friends.”
“Just a moment, please.” Diana stumbled to her bathroom, a surge of acid and anxiety eating away at the lining of her stomach. “Time for the big guns.” She took a long pull on a bottle of pink liquid before returning to tackle the monumental task of changing Jackie’s mind.
“Wouldn’t you like to wait to have a couture dress designed for you?” That could take months. While the naïve narcissists had convinced her they were truly in love, it didn’t mean they shouldn’t enjoy a protracted engagement.
“I’m sure The Wedding Knot has one that will do fine.”
“Special order then.” Diana could convince her mother’s friends to host teas and showers to keep Jackie happy and busy well into the fall. “November is still warm enough to have an outdoor wedding. December would be even better. We could fill the church with poinsettias and paperwhites.”
Jackie locked her jaw. Her nostrils flared. “I’ve said my piece and counted to three.”
“Okay, Mama. Okay.” Diana raised her hands in surrender. “I’ll make it happen. What’s your color scheme?”
Bright pink spots blossomed on Jackie’s cheeks. “Wonderful. First, you need to tell Mary Baxter and the other ladies from the garden club they are throwing me a shower Thursday night. I registered at Holcombe’s Jewelry store downtown and of course at Sweet Tea and Lavender.”
Diana snatched a notepad from the end table. From Jackie’s rapid-fire instructions, it appeared making decisions wouldn’t be an issue. One pitcher of sweet tea, two hours, and three full pages later, Diana had her marching orders.
Andrew settled into the little alcove where Diana and he had shared drinks the previous night. Sunlight streamed in through the bay window and glinted off the brass fixtures. Peering through the wavy glass, he took in the koi pond. Uncle Neville’s romantic left turn provided the opportunity to view the water lilies Diana had described. He’d also gotten his wish to spend more time with the woman who possessed a flare for description, except it wasn’t her expository skills on his brain now. The soft sounds she made in the throes of passion echoed in his mind—and the center of his chest.
He shifted in his seat and waved over the waitress. As with all things in his life, family obligations trumped personal desires. Neville would join him shortly, so they could make plans now the wedding seemed imminent.
The young woman he recalled from before approached. “What can I bring you, sir? The kitchen is still serving breakfast, or I can bring you one of Greenbrier’s famous chicken salad sandwiches.”
The thought of food added to the iron worry already weighing in his stomach. “No food, thank you. Tea would be nice.” He quickly clarified his order, having made the mistake previously. “A pot of hot tea. Peppermint if you have it.”
She nodded. “Miss Diana sent some loose-leaf over from her store so we have any flavor you like.”
The waitress scurried away leaving him to appreciate her bosses’ thoroughness in anticipating his preferences. She certainly didn’t inherit the trait from her mother. When Uncle Neville entered, his thoughts switched from Diana’s mother to his own parental figure.
Despite his capitulation, he still harbored reservations about his uncle’s marriage. As he drew near, Andrew noted the man’s face was as wrinkled as his shirt and trousers. “I thought you were going to change.”
Neville waved his bank card in Andrew’s face. “I would have, but when I went to the shop in the lobby, my bloody card wouldn’t work. The clerk said it was, ‘declined,’ whatever that means.”
It means you should have had room service launder one of the numerous outfits you’ve already purchased.
Andrew took the card. “Leave it to me. I’ll take it up with the clerk.” By that, he meant, Andrew would transfer more money into his uncle’s personal account. With all the drama, he’d failed to keep the sharp eye on his family’s account as he usually did.
Making a mental note to check on his parents’ balances, he used the situation to address a worry featured in the snatches of sleep he’d gotten the previous night. “Have you and Jackie discussed when you’ll be returning to Chatham Park?”
Andrew loved the family estate despite its crumbling brick, Edwardian plumbing, and ever-present drafts. However, it needed a great deal of work before it was ready for its latest mistress.
“Directly after the wedding. She’s anxious to see her new home. I’ve promised her carte blanche to redecorate the Duchess Alexandria rooms. I can’t wait for her to take up your great-grandmother’s suite as well as her title.”
“You did?” His voice climbed an octave. Panic washed over him. All his fears realized. Exposure, humiliation, shame. Even an obtuse woman like Jackie could add a moldering east wing to peeling paint and come up with a shoestring budget.
Thank God, the waitress returned with their tea, providing Andrew with a moment to collect his wits. After adding a spoonful of sugar, Andrew took a long sip of the soothing brew. “Did you perchance inform her she’ll be walking into an apartment uninhabited for seventy years?”
With each decade, the family occupied fewer and fewer room, so that the last Duchess of Effingham, his grandmother Honoria, occupied only a modest suite adjacent to the nursery.
“It didn’t come up.” Neville reached for his own cup, and after taking a sip peered into the liquid as if it might offer him a rescue from reality. “She wanted to talk about wedding colors.”
Andrew pressed further. The time for a gentle hand had long since passed. “Have you discussed where you’ll get the funds for the restoration?”
Neville’s brow furrowed. “I, ah…” He scrubbed his palm over his balding pate. “I hadn’t given it much thought. You’ve always had a head for the business side of the estate, I’m sure you’ll manage the costs; you always have.”
“It’s not in this year’s budget.” Or the next. Of late, he’d had a good run in Monaco, but not nearly enough to cover restoring an entire wing.
“Well then, I’ll rely on a time-tested resource—we’ll ask Diana for a dowry sufficient to cover the costs.”
Andrew blinked. His uncle relished all things antique, but was he serious?
“Since Jackie will be living at Chatham Park, at least part-time, I’m sure Diana wouldn’t mind in the least. Nor would she want her mother living in less than ideal surroundings.”
“I’m certain you’re correct.” Andrew would rather endure a bowl of those grits Diana kept insisting were delicious than have her learn how he earned money for the family. Or worse yet, have her think Uncle Neville had anything other than love on his heart.
Good God. What if she thought he’d pursued her for mercenary reasons?
If he flew directly from Jackson to Las Vegas and luck was truly on his side, he might have enough to do a modest restoration on the Duchess Alexandria suite. “I’d think you’d want to adequately provide for your duchess from your own coffers. As point of pride.”
“You have a point.” The man squared his shoulders. “It is my duty to take care of her.”
Under normal circumstances, Andrew would have suggested honesty might be the best way forward. However, nothing of British aristocracy resembled normal—at least not the way his family interpreted it.
“Would you and Jackie be willing to live here for a few months. That would give me time to accrue the funds you need.”
“I could take up the matter with her when we meet for lunch. She was so looking forward to meeting everyone.” The corners of his mouth turned up. He leaned in and whispered, “However, I think I can persuade her I’ve fallen in love with Mississippi, if that will help buy you time to raise the necessary funds.”
Andrew snatched the offering since it was as much help as he was likely to receive from his uncle. “Very good. That will also give you the opportunity to better prepare Jackie for her role. She’ll need quite a bit of coaching before she meets Mum.”
Good Lord, his mother wasn’t going to relinquish her duties willingly and certainly not to a woman she thought unworthy of the job.
Neville waved away Andrew’s comment. “Oh, she’ll meet Regina at the wedding.”
“What?” He choked on his tea. “Mother’s coming here?”
“Of course, my sister is coming to my wedding. She and your father too.”
Andrew signaled their waitress and when she came within earshot, he croaked, “Whiskey. Double. Neat.”
Before Diana phoned the bakery and kept a four o’clock dress fitting, she needed to find Andrew. She paused at the door to the Mimosa Suite, hoping he’d be in his new room, praying he’d be open to lending a hand, and longing to find him alone.
Maybe it would be better if he weren’t.
The good Lord knew she had enough on her to-do list. Rapping lightly, she held her breath. Her knuckles had barely met oak when the door opened.
“Oh, you’re here.”
A sly grin spread across his face. “Were you hoping I wouldn’t be?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Come in and find out.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her across the threshold.
“This isn’t a good idea right now.” Everything below her navel begged to differ. “We both have a ton of things to do in the coming days.”
“All the more reason to take care of the important things first.”
His kiss tasted of whiskey. Warm. Spicy. Decadent. Just like him.
“You’ve been drinking. Celebratory or medicinal?”
Andrew tugged her shirt free from the waist of her pants and slid his hands across her bare back. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
She returned the favor, drawing Andrew’s shirt over his head. As much as she’d rather spend the next week or so staring at his bare chest, worry niggled at the corners of her mind. “Easier said than done.”
He scooped her into his arms, crossed to the four-poster bed, and tossed her onto it. “Our problems can keep. At least for the next half hour.”
Diana shimmied out of her pants faster than a tipsy debutante would slip on a marble dance floor. “Agreed. It’s not like magical elves will do the work for us.”
Andrew disrobed.
Much to Diana’s visual pleasure.
He joined her under the covers and made such thorough love to her, all but the most basic functions of her brain ceased.
A good hour later, Diana kissed the underside of Andrew’s jaw. The world was only beginning to refocus. Her worries returning. “We do need to talk about the wedding.”
“Must we?”
“You know it’s in a matter of days.”
“I’ve been told.”
“I’ve got flowers to order, musicians to hire, and invitations to send.” Was there time to mail them? God forbid they resort to emailing them.
“About that. I didn’t know if Jackie gave you our guest list.”
“No, I assumed—”
“My parents will be attending. They fly in Saturday.”
The creases around his mouth caused a knot in her stomach. “That’s fine. I’ll arrange to have a car pick them up in Jackson, and there’ll be room for them next door since your uncle has moved to the family quarters.”
“Very good.”
“What are you not telling me?”
“You have enough on your hands without concerning yourself with my relations. Leave them to me. What’s my immediate task?”
Make love to me again.
All the mama-drama disappeared when they were alone. “After you reserve tuxes for you and Neville, you need to get going on a bachelor party.”
“Suggestions?”
“There are several casinos in Vicksburg, and I know there are a couple guys on staff who would enjoy filling out your small numbers. Doc James for sure.”
He frowned.
“If that seems a little low brow for your uncle, there’s always the Coach House.”
“Casinos will be fine.
Did his family have a puritanical streak she didn’t know about. Lordy, Mama wouldn’t want to give up her Bunco games.
“I should get cracking then.”
Could the twitch above his eye have something to do with his parents’ arrival?
He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Text me when you get back from town.”
“You bet.” What wasn’t he telling her? Diana tried not to borrow trouble since her little red wagon was already overflowing with issues.
Truth hit her squarely in the face. It wasn’t his parents meeting Jackie worrying him. It was Diana.