“We should have sent out save-the-dates,” Jonathan remarks.
“Nonsense. We don’t do that sort of thing,” Lady Meade says plainly, looking disappointed he’d even suggest it.
“Cordelia is very upset,” Jonathan comments, unbothered by Lady Meade’s scolding. “She says Annabel’s done this on purpose.”
“I’m disappointed in Ned,” the marquess says, and I realize he’s referring to Annabel’s father, the Earl of Derrington. “This isn’t like him.”
“What are we going to do about it?” Lady Meade asks.
“Why do we need to do anything?” Tom says, yawning again.“Have the wedding on the same day. Cordelia didn’t want to invite them in the first place, remember? Which I couldn’t agree with more. She went mad when you said she had to invite them and now you’ve got a great excuse for them not to come.”
Ah. That solves that mystery. I thought Annabel and Cordelia were best friends, though. I can’t remember reading anything about a fallout, but there must have been one.
“Don’t be absurd,” Lady Meade says. “We have near-identical guest lists.”
“Right, so you’d see who your real friends are.” Tom shrugs, looking pleased with himself. “Anyone who goes to their wedding and not Cordelia’s you can cross off the Christmas card list.”
“Do take this seriously, Thomas,” his father says wearily.
“Poor Cordelia,” I say, staring down at the invitation. “What a nightmare.”
“I know.” Jonathan sighs. “She so wanted a spring wedding.”
“Is moving the date an option?” I ask the room.
“I suggested a late-summer wedding instead,” Jonathan answers, his eyes falling to the floor. “But Cordelia was quite adamant that her wedding come before Annabel’s.”
I lift my eyebrows. “Before?”
“Cordelia may have mentioned this to you, but there’s always been some… competition between Annabel and Cordelia,” Lady Meade explains. “They were at school together. They used to be good friends, ran in the same circles. But then…” She pauses, searching for the words. “… they grew apart.”
“Maybe when Cordelia’s had time to calm down, she’ll be more reasonable about dates,” Jonathan says, trying to persuade himself as much as everyone else in the room. “It’s just come as a shock. That’s all.”
“Yes, it has,” says a voice behind me. “But I have a solution.”
I spin round to see Cordelia entering the room, dressed in a smart emerald-green minidress with tights and high-heeledboots, her sunglasses swinging from her fingers as though she hasn’t a care in the world. Smiling broadly, she breezes past me to go into the welcome arms of her fiancé and I’m hit by a wave of expensive perfume.
“Look, Cordelia,” Jonathan says, his face brightening as she approaches him. “Emily came to cheer you up.”
“How thoughtful,” she says, not looking at me.
“Cordelia,” her mother says, bewildered, “you’re feeling better?”
“Much. I apologize for my behavior this morning, but I’ve had time to put things in perspective. If Annabel wants that date for her wedding, it’s hers.”
Jonathan kisses her. Lord and Lady Meade look shocked. Tom simply nods in approval before taking another gulp of tea. “Great. I can go back to bed, then,” he announces. “I mean, back to work.”
“It hit me as soon as I heard Emily arriving,” Cordelia continues, ignoring him and beaming at me. “Just the sound of your footsteps inspired me.”
Uh-oh. This can’t be good.
“Really? Great,” I say, a lump forming in my throat. “Well, a late-summer wedding will be absolutely lovely—”
“Oh, no, silly billy, the solution is not to have a summer wedding.” She laughs loudly, as though I’ve said something simplyhilarious.“The solution is to have a winter wedding.”
“Splendid,” Jonathan enthuses. “Sounds good to me.”
“I suppose it gives us more time,” Lady Meade admits, sharing a look of confusion with her husband.
