Chapter Twenty-Four
A few hours later, Victoria was dressed in a strapless white satin and organza evening dress with a circle skirt and the same colored jeweled details from the wedding gown around its waist. After the grandeur of the morning, Jamie and I had agreed the reception dress should be more refined, emphasizing Victoria’s classic beauty and style. It was simple but stunning.
Victoria’s glam squad returned, working to transform her wedding day look into a glamorous evening one. They darkened her eye makeup and slicked her hair into a neat chignon. She looked right off the runway. She completed the look with open-toe gold Louboutins that gave her another unnecessary few inches in height.
“You should be all set.” I stepped away from Victoria to look her up and down. “The hem’s perfect and the fit—sublime.”
“Thank you so much. Really. I don’t know how you and Jamie managed to capture everything I wanted in these looks, but I’ve never felt more special or beautiful. Speaking of Jamie, any word from him yet?”
I looked down at my phone. “Nothing yet.”
“Let me know when you hear anything.”
Gemma poked her head into the room and let Victoria know she was needed for photos at the palace.
“As a thank you, I asked if my stylists could stay a bit longer and get you ready. I know I haven’t left you with much time for yourself,” Victoria said.
“That’s very generous of you. Are you sure?”
“My pleasure. Didn’t you say Gideon will be here at seven? You don’t have a lot of time.” She turned to her glam squad. “Boys, give this one the works. She deserves it.”
Victoria left with Gemma as I sat down in front of the mirror. The hairstylist got to work pinning my hair into rollers while the senior makeup artist asked me what I was wearing to the reception. I described the metallic silk Valentino gown with its floral appliques and then remembered I had a picture of it on my phone. I pulled it out to show him and saw a missed call from Jamie and a text, which I quickly opened.
Welcome to the world Oliver Malone Beckett 5lbs 9 oz. and Clara Malone Beckett 6 lbs. 2 oz.
I squealed and jumped up from the chair.
“I have to make one quick call. I’ll be right back,” I said.
“How’s the proud papa?” I asked as soon as Jamie picked up.
“When I saw the reviews of the wedding dress coming in on the flight I thought nothing could possibly top that moment, but the minute I held my children nothing else in the world mattered.”
“Your children. Oh Jamie,” I said, tearing up myself. “Everyone’s okay? The babies are doing well?”
“They’re perfect. Just perfect.”
“And Thom?”
“Busy taking a million pictures. He’ll send some over to you soon. What time is it there? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the reception?”
“It’s six. Victoria just left for the palace. Gideon’s picking me up in about an hour.”
“So, we did pretty good today, partner?” he said.
I rubbed my hand over my heart. “We sure did.”
“I have to go, Gi. Thom’s parents just got to the hospital. Take copious mental notes on the party but more importantly the after party. I want all the dish,” he said before hanging up.
I looked back down at my phone. Thom sent a text with about a dozen pictures of the twins. Jamie was right. They were absolutely perfect from their tufts of blonde hair right down to the small dimple each of them had in their right cheek.
I sat back down in the chair and apologized to the stylists. I scrolled to the picture of me in the Valentino gown Jamie’d snapped at the vintage store and showed it to the makeup artist.
“We should do a more natural eye but a bold red lip. Toni, are you thinking finger waves?” he asked the hairstylist.
“Totally,” Toni answered. “This dress has a real 20s feel. Very old New York. I’m picturing a smoky club with jazz standards playing. Let’s go for it.”
I smiled. “Do I have any say in this?”
“No.” They both answered in unison.
I leaned back into the chair and let the team work their magic.
Forty-five minutes later, Gideon knocked on the hotel room door. The glam squad let him in while I finished dressing in the bathroom. It was a good thing I hadn’t had time to eat much all week. The dress closed within an inch of my life. I inhaled a few times to make sure I could breathe in it. Not well, but it’d have to do. I thought of Jamie’s fashion mantra, “Style before a smile.” You didn’t have to be happy or comfortable in a couture gown as long as it looked fabulous. Gideon would have to be the judge.
I stepped out of the bathroom and did a full turn in front of him. “What do you think?”
“Forget whatever the Queen is wearing tonight, I’ll be the one with the crown jewels on my arm.”
I picked up my clutch from the nightstand. “That’s a good line. How long have you been working on it?”
“Came up with it in the car on the way over.” He stood to give me a kiss on the cheek.
I laughed. “You look incredible. That tuxedo’s amazing.”
Gideon smoothed out the jacket lapels. “My new stylist helped me pick it out.”
“Jamie?”
Gideon nodded and I leaned over to straighten his bow tie. “There. Now you’re perfect.”
“If you say so,” he said with a wink.
“Oh, I say so.”
“We should get going if you want to see the bagpipers,” he said, taking my arm.
The car drove through the crowds who’d gathered along the sidewalks and footways to catch a glimpse the royal reception guests. When we pulled up to the gates of Buckingham Palace, Gideon gave his name to a palace guard who let us through. The driver was then directed to the porte-cochère where a butler was waiting to greet the guests and announce the arrivals. Gideon climbed out first and extended a hand to help me. The butler asked Gideon for his name or title and then proclaimed the entrance of “Viscount Satterley and Ms. Georgica Goldstein.”
It felt like a dream. The courtyard was aglow with candles, and servers walked around with trays of vintage pink champagne and peach Bellinis. Bagpipers played traditional English music as more guests were announced into the space. I looked around, recognizing many of the same faces from the morning’s ceremony. Gideon pointed to the corner of the courtyard where his parents were standing with Linney.
We slowly made our way over to them, stopping to speak with several of Gideon’s friends and acquaintances along the way. Gideon made a point of introducing me, not as his date but as the designer of Victoria’s wedding gown. As guest after guest gushed about how much they’d loved the dress, Gideon couldn’t conceal his pride and admiration.
“When we walked in the butler should have announced us as ‘Georgica Goldstein, extraordinary designer and that schlub she let escort her,’” he said.
“Schlub’s a little bit harsh, isn’t it?” I teased.
Gideon surveyed the courtyard. “I might just be the luckiest guy in this room.”
“I think Prince Alexander would dare to challenge you on that one.”
“It is his wedding day so I’ll let him take the title…just this once,” he said with a squeeze of my hand.
After the cocktail hour, the guests were ushered toward dinner in the palace’s ballroom, complete with two huge thrones at one end of the room for Victoria and Alexander and a grand piano at the other. Gideon and I searched the seating chart and found our names at Table 22 along with the rest of his family and some of their close friends. I couldn’t help but glance around the chart to see where Perry was seated. He was across the room at Table 2 with the Ellicotts and some members of the royal family.
I took the seat next to Gideon and folded my napkin into my lap. A waiter placed a starter in front of us—dressed crab topped with lemon slices and served with a small cucumber salad. A sommelier came by to pour wine for the table, explaining he’d paired this course with an exquisite white Meursault Burgundy, a French wine that was one of Prince Alexander’s favorites.
After the room was served, Victoria and Alexander were announced as the Duke and Duchess of Sussex.
I leaned into Gideon. “Why weren’t they announced as prince and princess?” I whispered.
“You only carry prince or princess before your name if you were born into the role. Because Victoria is a commoner, she doesn’t get the princess title in her own right.”
“I wonder if she knew that before she agreed to marry him?” I joked.
“The king bestowed the titles of Duke and Duchess to mark their wedding,” he added. “Not a bad consolation.”
“Thank goodness I was issued an interpreter for this event. I would’ve been completely lost otherwise.”
“I’ll draw you a chart later.”
“Thank you, Viscount Satterley heir apparent to the Earl of Harronsby.” I nudged Gideon’s side. “Did I say that right?”
“Perfectly.”
“I’m going to go find the ladies’ room, I’ll be right back;” I excused myself from the table.
I wandered out of the ballroom and into a corridor. Large Old Masters paintings lined the long hallway. I recognized a Velázquez and Rubens. I was sure the one at the far end of the hall was a Vermeer but wanted to get a closer look. I leaned in to look for a signature or marking on the painting and knocked into the frame.
“Be careful with that one. You break it. You buy it.”
“I was looking for the bathroom and apparently wandered into a museum,” I said to Perry, who was watching me from the doorway.
“No, you’re right, this is just the hallway to the bathroom,” he said.
I raised my eyebrows. “Some hallway.”
“I know. This is my fourth trip to the palace and I still can’t believe I’m here.”
“Me neither,” I answered.
“Neither,” he responded in his posh British accent.
“Neither, neither. Either, either,” I echoed back to him in the same playful way we used to exchange quips.
“Let’s call the whole thing off,” he finished.
I snickered and looked at the ground.
“What? What is it?” Perry tilted my chin back up again.
“After you returned to London, I used to imagine you sitting in your house playing your Gershwin records, listening to that song and thinking of us. I say tomato and you say tomahto, right? I guess in the end the lyrics rang true. It was easier to call the whole thing off.”
“Is that what you think? That it was easier? Saying goodbye to you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Really? It didn’t seem so,” I responded.
A guy with a headset popped his head out from behind the doorway. “Hey, Perry, they need you for sound check.”
“I’ll be there in a second, Chris,” he yelled back.
“Go. Your performance is all anyone’s talking about.”
“I switched it up. We’re not doing The Accession anymore.”
“No? Which song are you performing?”
“Dudley’s Petition.”
Dudley’s Petition was a powerful love ballad between Robert Dudley and Queen Elizabeth. Dudley, growing desperate, decides to make one last, spectacular attempt to persuade Elizabeth to marry him. Pulling out all the stops, he invites her to Kenilworth Castle and stages several days of extraordinarily lavish entertainments at a huge cost. The Queen enjoys every minute of the visit but, in the end, cannot be dazzled into acquiescence. Although she loves Dudley fiercely, she knows marrying him will court disaster in her kingdom, sparking such intense opposition from Dudley’s rivals that it might even spill out into civil war.
“I’ve never seen that one performed outside of our apartment,” I said.
“You made a wonderful Elizabeth,” Perry said with a playful smile.
“I made a terrible Elizabeth. Didn’t you tell me in all your years of performing music you’d never heard anyone that off key?”
“Yes, true. But the enthusiasm you exhibited—no other actress has quite embodied the role the way you did.”
“Not even Beyoncé?”
Perry leaned in close to me and whispered, “Not even the Queen B herself.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t believe you, but I’ll take the compliment and run with it.”
“Really, Gigi, nobody’s ever even come close to you.”
“Perry, man, what’s the holdup?” Chris shouted again from down the hall.
I glanced from Chris back to Perry. “Go. Don’t keep your throngs of adoring fans waiting on account of me.”
Our eyes locked for just a moment and then he was gone.