Page 89 of The Ice Queen
“Let us just say that the conversation with her at the Austrian embassy did not go well. My father, God rest his soul, signed over the necklace to her, on the condition that she only has to return it when a new countess comes into the title. So, until I marry, I cannot claim it back. And yes, she was her usual charming self about it, thank you for asking,” he replied.
He did not want to make mention of the unkind words the countess had said about Caroline. He had seen them for what they were: a means to bait him into anger.
“So why not marry now, and claim the necklace before she leaves England?” replied Francis.
Julian had promised Caroline the wedding of her dreams. A full service at St Paul’s, married by her uncle the Bishop of London. A glittering ball at Strathmore House would follow, attended by all of London’s social elite. His mother would not steal that from his bride.
He was determined that their marriage celebration would be a triumph for Caroline. One that put all rumors by Harry Menzies to rest. She was Julian’s chosen bride and his countess. “I understand what you are saying, and if it were anyone else, I might consider it, but this is Caroline. I would not do that to her. Not after what she has been through. She deserves a full society wedding, reflective of her status, and I am determined that she will have it.”
Will and Francis exchanged a knowing look.
Two servants arrived at that moment, one carrying two bottles of French burgundy, the other, a platter of cold meats and pickles.
Will reached over and picked up a piece of cold pickled pork and looked at it. Just before he put it in his mouth, he met Julian’s gaze. “How about the three of us have a glass or two of this fine wine and discuss the options before us?”
