“Good to see you, Marvin.”
Jean-Pierre had escaped. He kissed Anne on both cheeks, whispered in her ear, “Game, set and match to James,” and went off in search of Stephen and Robin. He forgot his original instructions when he found himself face to face with the chief bridesmaid.
“Did you enjoy the wedding?” she asked.
“Of course. I always judge weddings by the bridesmaids, not the bride.”
She blushed with pleasure.
“This must have cost a fortune,” she continued.
“Yes, my dear, and I know whose,” said Jean-Pierre, slipping his arm around her waist.
Four hands grabbed a protesting Jean-Pierre and unceremoniously dragged him behind the pillar.
“For God’s sake, Jean-Pierre. She’s not a day over seventeen. We don’t want to go to jail for rape of a juvenile as well as theft. Drink this and behave yourself.” Robin thrust a glass of champagne into his hand.
The champagne flowed and even Stephen had a little too much. They were all clinging to their pillar for support by the time the toastmaster called for silence.
“My lords, ladies and gentlemen. Pray silence for the Viscount Brigsley, the bridegroom.”
James made an impressive speech. The actor in him took over and the Americans adored it. Even his father had a look of admiration on his face. The toastmaster then introduced Harvey, who spoke long and loud. He cracked his favorite joke about marrying off his daughter to Prince Charles, at which the assembled guests roared heartily as they always do at weddings, even for the weakest joke. He ended by calling the toast for the bride and groom.
When the applause had died down, and the hubbub of chatter had struck up again, Harvey took an envelope from his pocket and kissed his daughter on the cheek.
“Rosalie, here’s a little wedding present for you, to make up for letting me keep the Van Gogh. I know you’ll put it to good use.”
Harvey passed her the white envelope. Inside there was a check for $250,000. Anne kissed her father with genuine affection.
“Thank you, Daddy, I promise you James and I will use it wisely.”
She hurried off in pursuit of James, whom she found besieged by a group of American matrons:
“Is it true you’re related to the Queen…?”
“I never met a real live lord…”
“I do hope you’ll invite us over to see your castle…?”
“The
re are no castles in the King’s Road,” said James, relieved to be rescued by Anne.
“Darling, can you spare me a minute?”
James excused himself and followed Anne, but they found it almost impossible to escape the crowd.
“Look,” she said. “Quickly.”
James took the check.
“Good God—$250,000.”
“You know what I’m going to do with it, don’t you?”
“Yes, darling.”
Anne hunted for Stephen, Robin and Jean-Pierre, which was not an easy task as they were still hidden behind a pillar in the far corner. She was eventually guided to the spot by the subdued but spirited rendering of “Who Wants to be a Millionaire?” issuing from behind it.