Page 85 of A Change of Location
“I’m too tired to argue.”
They left the Art Deco bar for the rose and cream splendor of the Long Gallery. In her near stupor, she couldn’t locate the guest lift. Realizing they were approaching the restaurant, she paused to get her bearings. Martin’s hand closed on hers.
He drew her behind a pedestal topped by a giant floral arrangement and pulled her into an embrace. The whisky-flavored mouth teased and tasted hers, and she melded her body to his.
“Martin?”
Two young women on their way from the dining room had stopped nearby. Hannah recognized Martin’s dark-haired former girlfriend from the magazine article. The same issue contained a multi-page photo feature on her lavish wedding to an Italian duke. On that occasion, she’d worn a Venetian lace gown and a pearl coronet. Tonight her dress was red, short, and tight, and all of her jewelry was gold—necklace, earrings, and cuff bracelets.
“Hello, Natalie.”
“You didn’t used to bring dates to the Ritz. For me, it was either a naff club or your silly old boat.” She gestured to her blonde companion. “Adriana, my sister-in-law.”
“We’ve met. At your wedding,” he said pointedly.
This is bizarre, Hannah thought. She’s had more of his kisses than I have.
Natalie’s eyes fell on Hannah. “Hang on to him as long as you can. He’s got a habit of violating his exes’ privacy.”
“I had nothing to do with that magazine piece, Nat,” he responded. “Ask your brother how Posh got the picture of us on St. Barth’s.”
Hannah wondered whether this bickering was habitual.
Natalie patted Martin’s cheek. “Good to know you’ve come out of hiding. I miss seeing you. Ciao.” She hooked her arm through Adriana’s, chattering to her in Italian as they continued along the gallery.
“That was fun,” Hannah commented.
“Wasn’t it? Quite the charmer, Natalie.”
“Poppy called her a nightmare.”
“I’m not disputing the description. Fortunately, I woke up several months before meeting my dream girl.”
“I can’t say I’m impressed by your method of keeping a low profile.”
His arms fell to his sides. “It was a kiss, Hannah.”
“In a public place.”
Turning a corner, she wandered aimlessly, her confusion mounting. Opening a glossy wooden door, she found herself surrounded by the porphyry columns of a staircase hall. She’d been here before, months ago. With Martin.
He wasn’t here now.
The eighteenth-century courtiers depicted in the colorful mural decorating the wall and upper landing could have stepped from the pages of Forsaken Fortune. The fashionable ladies in lace and flounces leaned over the painted balustrade and seemed to regard her critically—disdainfully. No doubt about it, any one of them would have invited a handsome and wealthy marquess to her bedchamber.
Chapter 25
Not since childhood had Martin experienced the ritualistic and impeccably served afternoon tea at the Ritz. Alicia, determined to do her grandmotherly duty, had introduced him at an early age to the grandeur and gentility of the Palm Court.
“Mother bribed me into submission by promising a visit to Hamleys toy shop. Greedy as I was for all this,” he said, gesturing to the three-tiered serving piece filled with petite cakes, macarons, scones, and crustless sandwiches, “I was desperate to escape.”
“And now?” Liz Gregorio asked.
“There’s no place I’d rather be. Unless my grandmother should appear. She’s no less intimidating now than during my childhood.”
“I had a granny like that,” said Liz. “Crucifixes and pictures of the Pope and the Blessed Virgin Mary all over her house. She scared me to death when I was little. When I was older, I could tell that deep down, she was a softie.”
“If Alicia has a soft spot, I’ve yet to detect it.”
