Right Number, Wrong Girl

This was overwhelming.

If I ever got married, I was going to elope to Vegas or somewhere like that.

Seating plans looked like more trouble than they were worth.

I had no idea where to begin. I knew none of these people. I’d heard of a few in the entertainment and society columns, of course, but I barely knew how any of them were connected.

The Duke and Duchess of Worcester, The Earl of Portsmouth, The Dowager Countess of Inverness…

Nope.

All right over my head.

“I hear you’re in need of my help.”

I turned at the sound of Henry’s voice and sighed. “Thank God. I’ve got no idea what I’m doing. You have to help me.”

He laughed, rubbing his hand through his wet hair. “Rupert mentioned the seating plan. Isn’t that my brother’s job?”

“He’s on a farm helping a sheep give birth to twins,” I said slowly. “I think that’s what Rupert said.”

“Ah. Dad’s at a meeting this morning, so that explains it.”

“And you aren’t helping? Why not? Don’t you feel like shoving your hand up a sheep’s rear end?”

“Cannot think of anything I’d rather do less,” Henry said firmly, sitting down next to me. “Have you made a start?”

“I’ve looked at the list.”

“So, no.”

“No,” I confirmed. “The problem is that I don’t know who any of these people are. I don’t know who should and shouldn’t sit together.”

“All right. I don’t pretend to know everything, but we can always send this off to Mum for her opinion when we’re done. Hugo knows a little more than me.” He pulled the chair next to me out and sat down.

“Forgive me for saying so, but he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who knows the ins and outs of high society.”

Henry chuckled. “You’d think, wouldn’t you? But it’s part of our family tradition. Every year at Christmas we hold a ball, and there’s a meal involved. Traditionally, The Duchess of Devon has been the one to organise it, but since he’s single, Mum has been teaching him both sides of it.”

“Makes sense,” said the part of my brain that controlled my mouth.

Oh, he’s single, said the part that clearly controlled my libido.

I beat that part down with the vigour one kneaded bread dough with. Perhaps a little too much.

Still, I wasn’t going to pay attention to it.

The part of my brain that controlled my libido, that was.

The part that had sense was definitely going to be listened to. All the time.

“Okay, so we usually try to keep family together,” Henry said, leaning over. “So let’s start with… Ah, that’s easy. The Baths.”

I had no idea what he was going on about.

“So the Duke of Bath will be attending with his sister, Lady Catherine, and his daughter and her fiancé, Lady Gabriella and Mr. Kingsley.”

I put four little flags on a table. “That leaves… six spaces on that table.”