“Gwenyth. How lovely to meet you.” Albert offered her a curt shake of the hand before pulling his away. “Is that a Welsh name?”
“It is, I believe.”Really. The first thing I say to him is clarifying if my name is Welsh?“Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Different spelling from the actress, though,” James said. “But we all call her Gwen.”
“Yes, I insist that you call me Gwen, sir.”
Albert said nothing, let alone any variation of her name.
They had settled at the table overlooking the gardens when a servant entered with a platter of coffees and light finger-snacks. He also carried with him a message.
“Lady and Ms. Welsh are here, sir.”
James did a double-take; Albert remained content. Gwen, meanwhile, had no idea what any of that meant. Was that code about her and her name?
If only.
“They must be dropping by for a quick chat.” Albert shrugged. “Show them in. I’m sure Cassandra would love to chat with her old friend.”
James was still speechless. When he turned to Gwen, she offered a shrug like Albert’s and a wan smile that suggested she was fine with anything.
Two minutes later, an older woman and her grown daughter entered the salon, the both bedecked in matching wrap-dresses that highlighted the older woman’s flawless skin and the younger woman’s bouncing curls. Cassandra, the young woman, took a step back when she saw James and Gwen. Her mother went straight to Albert and shared with him a look that Gwen instantly realized was one of love.
She should have listened to her gut when it said that none of these people would be good for her.