‘Maybe we need to plan the wedding around the honeymoon,’ said Georgia thoughtfully. ‘I’m sure Capri and Ravello aren’t quite as wonderful in January.’
‘So you want a summer wedding.’
‘But what about New York?’
‘I suppose we don’t have to be married to move out to New York together. Being engaged will save our blushes.’
‘We could get married in America,’ she said, her eyes wide.
‘What would your mother say about that? I thought she thinks America has no culture or soul.’
‘I don’t suppose your parents will be too happy either. I expect they always hoped for a grand wedding at the house. I mean, I bet you even have a chapel in the grounds.’
‘We do,’ he laughed.
‘The sooner we tell people, the sooner we can get planning.’
‘We should probably hold off from that until tomorrow. I guess it’s Christopher’s day today. I don’t want to distract attention from him. Not on his birthday.’
‘Absolutely,’ nodded Georgia in agreement.
‘We can tell them over breakfast,’ he said in a tone that indicated it was all decided.
Georgia was nervous as they went back into the party. From a distance she could see Lord and Lady Carlyle, who suddenly seemed more intimidating than they had an hour earlier. She wondered how they would react to the news that their darling son – the heir to all she could see around them – was marrying penniless, homeless Georgia Hamilton from South Hams, Devon. In bed, Edward had confided that the reason he had invited Georgia’s family to the party was so that the Hamiltons and the Carlyles could meet. Georgia hoped that his plan would not backfire, and was particularly concerned that Estella was not being inappropriately bohemian with someone important.
She felt the engagement ring she had tucked into her bra press against her heart and she smiled, not sure she was going to be able to keep the news secret until morning.
‘What are you grinning about?’
She turned to find Estella standing behind her.
I’m smiling because I’m going to marry the most wonderful man in the world, she thought, but she held her tongue.
‘I was just thinking wha
t a brilliant party this is.’
‘Rather smart, isn’t it? Where’s Edward?’
‘Back on host duty. Apparently it’s a three-line whip that he talks to everybody.’
Estella looked at her daughter quizzically.
‘I suppose you’re glad you did the Season now.’
‘Because of Edward?’
‘He’s a very impressive young man.’
‘Because he has money?’ said Georgia, more sharply than she meant.
‘Because of the way he looks at you. Because I know he can see all the wonderful, special qualities in my daughter.’
Georgia’s mind jumped back to the blanket nest on the tiles, her own dress unzipped, Edward’s lips on her skin . . . She quickly turned away from her mother, sure that she would see it all in her face.
‘I love him,’ she said simply.
‘I know. How about we go and listen to the jazz band in the garden? I can’t see Peter, Sybil or Clarissa anywhere. And I’m not sure I can bear to talk to anyone else about their racehorses or how their darling daughter is coming along with her pianoforte.’