Page 115 of Storm of Bells
‘So…he’s leaving the guest list entirely toyou?’
‘Yes.’
Slowly, a grin began to spread across herface. ‘The poor man has no idea what he’s in for.’
‘As a certain person I know wouldsay—indeed.’
‘So…’ Scuttling over to a small desk in thecorner, Adaira snatched up pen and paper, and returned to me,squatting beside me in conspirator-mode. ‘Whom do you want toinvite?’
I stroked my chin. ‘Well, for starters, allthe people from London who despise me from the bottom of theirshrivelled little hearts.’
Adaira’s hand with the pen started tomove—then she blinked, and glanced up abruptly. Whatever she’d beenexpecting, it wasn’t that.
‘Why in God’s name would you wantthat?’
A seraphic smile spread across my face as Ileaned back, thinking of all the obnoxious people who had lorded itover me—or tried to—for years now. They had been so superior…justbecause they had a higher position, a bigger wallet, or, in mostcases, just a bigger head. But now…
‘Well, let me put it like this: what do youthink they’ll feel when they arrive here, see this place, and meetmy groom-to-be, Lord Rikkard Ambrose, heir to the MarquessAmbrose?’
A pause.
Then…
‘Lilly?’
‘Yes?’
‘Remind me never to get on your badside.’
‘I doubt that will be necessary.’ Our eyesmet. Out of all my siblings, only Ella had ever felt like a realsister, like someone I could rely on always and forever. But now…Iwas starting to think that soon, I’ll have one more sister to counton.
She held my gaze—and nodded. ‘Neither do I.So—who, if I may ask, has the misfortune of being on this list ofpeople you dislike?’
‘Hm, let me think…Lady Allbright, Miss MabelFinchley, The Baroness Marlington, Lady Ellington, Lady Bindle,Lady Allington, Lady Vindington, Lady Dellington, LadyHarrington…’
‘Dear me. That’s a ton of Ladies.’
‘Yes, they do seem to have a particularantipathy towards me. Hm…who else despises me? Oh yes, of course!Most of my family. But they are already here. And, of course, thereare a few dancing partners whose feet I have trampled on over theyears. Perhaps I’d best list them in alphabetical order. Mr Abbit,Mr Abbet, Mr Abbot, Mr Abbs, who by the way didn’t have any, MrAbner, Mr Abney, Mr Abrahams, Mr Ace, who wasn’t one, Mr Ackerly,Mr Ackland—’
‘Err…Lilly? How many are on this alphabeticallist, exactly?’
I stroked my chin, thoughtfully. ‘You know,I’m not entirely sure. It’s so hard to distinguish swollenfeet.’
‘Hm. I’ll have to try that out myselfsomeday.’
‘By all means, do. Now, about thatlist…should I provide you with all the names on paper at myearliest opportunity?’
‘Thatwould be nice.’ Adaira glanced down at her notes. ‘I’d prefer notto get carpal tunnel syndrome.’[24]
‘Good. Now that we’ve got the preliminariesout of the way…,’ I rubbed my hands and threw her a grin, ‘let’sget to the juicy part of this list.’
Adaira’s eyes sparkled. ‘So…who do you thinkmight piss off my brother even more than the squashed-footsquad?’
I considered the question. Whom else could Ipossibly invite to the wedding? Who would be willing to come, andbe able to create enough of a scandal to rock Mr Rikkard Ambrose’swell-ordered world?
Suddenly, an idea appeared in my head. Anoutrageous idea. A fiendish idea. A marvellous idea. I wondered whyI hadn’t had it sooner. After all…who do you invite to yourwedding?
Simple. Your friends.
