Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less

“Delighted, my lord. Show Lord Brigsley to the private rooms.”

James followed the head porter up the red staircase and into a small Regency room where dinner had been laid for three. He could hear Anne’s voice in the next room. She came through, looking even more beautiful than usual in a floating mint-green dress.

“Hello, darling. Come on, I want you to meet Daddy.”

James followed Anne into the next room.

“Daddy, this is James. James, this is my father.”

James went red and then white, and then he felt green.

“How are you, my boy. I’ve heard so much about you from Rosalie that I can’t wait to get acquainted.”

Chapter Seventeen

“CALL ME HARVEY.”

James stood aghast and speechless. Anne jumped into the silence.

“Would you like a whiskey, James?”

James found his voice with difficulty.

“Thank you.”

“I want to know all about you, young man,” continued Harvey, “what you get up to and why I’ve seen so little of my daughter in the past few weeks, though I think I can guess the answer to that.”

James drank the whiskey in one gulp and Anne quickly refilled his glass.

“You see so little of your daughter because I’m always modeling, which means that I’m very rarely in London.”

“I know, Rosalie…”

“James knows me as Anne, Daddy.”

“We christened you Rosalie. It was a good enough name for your mother and me and it ought to be good enough for you.”

“Daddy, whoever heard of a top European model calling herself Rosalie Metcalfe? All my friends know me as Anne Summerton.”

“What do you think, James?”

“I was beginning to think I didn’t know her at all,” replied James, recovering slowly. It was obvious that Harvey did not suspect a thing. He had not seen James face to face at the gallery, he had never seen him at Monte Carlo or Ascot, and James had looked ninety years of age at Oxford earlier in the day. He was beginning to believe he had got away with it. But how the hell could he tell the others at their Monday meeting that the final plan, his plan, would be to outwit not Harvey Metcalfe, but his future father-in-law?

“Shall we go through to dinner?”

Harvey did not wait for a reply. He marched on into the adjoining room.

“Rosalie Metcalfe,” whispered James fiercely. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Anne kissed him gently on the cheek.

“You’re the first person who’s given me the chance to beat my father at anything. Can’t you forgive me?…I do love you…”

“Come on, you two. Anyone would think you’d never met before.”

Anne and James joined Harvey for dinner. James was amused by the sight of the shrimp cocktail and remembered how Stephen had regretted that touch at Harvey’s Magdalen dinner.

“Well, James, I understand you and Anne have fixed a date for the wedding.”