There are five or six wineglasses at each place setting. The light from the crystal chandeliers rebounds onto the silverware and lights up the flower arrangement in the middle. It looks like we’re on the set of a movie. We could be in a scene fromA Duchess for a Duke.
“The flowers are stunning,” I say as we take our seats. “The roses are exactly the same as the ones you sent me this morning,” I say to Ben.
“He sends you flowers even when you’re with him? Or do you two not live together yet?” the duchess asks.
My stomach falls through my chair when I realize what I’ve said. Why would Ben send me flowers if I was living at his place? And what engaged coupledoesn’tlive together these days?Shit, shit, a thousand shits.
“I suppose it’s rather lazy,” Ben says, his breezy tone not giving away we’ve just been caught in our lie. “Perhaps I should go and get them myself and then bring them home with me, rather than call a florist.”
The quarter second before the duchess speaks feels like an hour, like we’re both on trial awaiting the foreman of the jury to read the verdict to the courtroom.
“I think it’s lovely you’re still giving her flowers, however they come. George could take a leaf out of your book.”
I try to cover my exhale of relief. Under the table, Ben squeezes my knee.
Though we got away with my slip, the moment settles resolve in my gut. I can’t do this again. I won’t spend another evening with the duke and duchess before I leave London. I can’t lie to them anymore.
“We are never short of flowers, either here or at Fairfield,” the duke says.
“I know, but it’s only because I order them for the house. Not because you buy them for me. Anyway, what were we talking about?” She frowns slightly and then answers her own question. “Oh, yes, Cannes. The duke comes out to France when work allows. If I have my way and he retires, this summer we’ll get to spend more time together than ever.”
“Retires?” The duke sounds completely horrified.
I keep silent, determined not to say anything that might make him veer off course. I’m sure Ben is desperate to hear what his plans are. “Never! Letting go here and there is one thing. Retiring is quite another. I shall never fully retire. Fairfield House will see to that. One never retires when living in a place like Fairfield. There’s always far too much to do.”
“Exactly,” the duchess says. “There’s far too much to do without you having to worry yourself running thirteen separate businesses.”
“You can’t count each hotel. That’s ludicrous. There are four businesses, including the hotels.”
“Ben,” the duchess says. I smell trouble brewing. “Running that many hotels is a huge undertaking, isn’t it?” She turns back to the duke. “You get offers all the time. I don’t understand why—”
“Enough!” the duke snaps. “I don’t want to discuss this anymore. We’re off on holiday next week, for goodness’ sake. There’s only so many times a year a man can sit around doing nothing, isn’t that right, Ben?”
“I do struggle to spend time away from my desk, sir.”
The duke shoots the duchess a look, but she won’t be silenced. “All that tells me is you both have a problem. Not that it’s right.” She takes a sip of her champagne. “You should come with us. We’re off to Scotland for a couple of weeks. Now the midges have gone, it’s quite beautiful up in the Highlands. Have you ever been, Tuesday?”
I shake my head. “Never. I’ve heard the scenery is astonishing.” Astonishing? When did I start using words like that? My brain is starting to think like a Brit.
“It absolutely is. Our place up there is in the middle of nowhere. It’s so peaceful.”
“The Wi-Fi is terrible,” says the duke. “Absolutely shocking. No amount of complaining from me changes anything. It’s infuriating. I have to do everything on the phone and get documents couriered. It’s like we’re in the late nineties.”
I can’t help but laugh. I would have expected the duke to be something of a Luddite, but obviously the opposite is true.
“Unfortunately, I have some immoveable obligations next week. Thank you very much for the invitation,” Ben says.
“Maybe Tuesday can come on her own.” The duchess shakes her head. “At your age, newly engaged, you probably don’t want to be away from each other. Never mind. Another time. It’s such a shame it’s empty for so much of the year. It would be nice to see it used more.” She sighs. “When the duke retires, or even semi-retires, we might make it up there a little more often. You know my mother was Scottish.”
“Beautiful woman,” the duke mumbles, and the duchess smiles.
“She was. I’d spend summers up there, just outside Loch Lomond. Very happy times. Where did you grow up, Tuesday?”
“Upstate New York in Madison County. We spent a lot of time outside when my father wasn’t working. I want the same for my children.” I say it without thinking because I’m relaxed, just having a nice conversation with three people I’m fond of, but it fits in perfectly with the narrative Ben and I have established.
Even though I’m telling the truth, my mouth takes on a tinny feel, like I shouldn’t have said it. I just hate lying to these people. Ben and I won’t spend our summers in Scotland. I haven’t got long left in England. I’m not going home engaged ... Hell, I’m not even sure I’m going to fly home with a job. I’m going to get on that plane, sad to be leaving, and ... I’m going to miss Ben.
Really miss him.