Page 162 of How (Not) to Marry a Duke
Ashford coughs, embarrassed. “Mick Jagger… Paris… the Rolling Stones.”
Such good times… “Oh, Paris! If I remember correctly, Led Zeppelin were there too, that weekend. Robert Plant was as handsome as a demigod! I don’t remember whether I met him before or after the night I spent with Lou Reed. Or was it Rod Stewart? Vance, would you happen to have one of his records? Would you please playDo You Think I’m Sexy?”
Jemma leans over the table towards me. “Take the cake away from her!”
The music stops abruptly and I stand up, really annoyed. “Didn’t we run a test on the audio system yesterday evening? It hasn’t just short-circuited, has it, Margaret?”
She looks at me, frightened. “Lady Delphina—”
“God save the Queen! God save the Queen! God save the Queen!” The guests exclaim in unison as they stand up as one.
“Oh, sit down!” I beckon them. “Let’s get the system fixed, now! The best man and the maid of honour will soon make their speeches.”
In answer, I hear a voice behind me: “If I’m not mistaken, I’m the one who is supposed to grant permission to sit down, but I’m not surprised. I had heard that the manners of the Parker family were not what they were lately. However, I did not imagine the extent of it.”
I turn round to reply, and I seeher, in her unmistakable pastel coloured tailored suit and matching hat, with white gloves and a handbag on her arm.
While every single person in the room is taking a bow, I can’t say anything but: “Margaret! My smelling salts!”
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Epilogue
Not everyone lived happily ever after. Delphina has never recovered from the shock of the royal visit, so she self-exiled in the isolated Parker estate in Yorkshire, to the endless joy of Ashford and Jemma, who are no longer annoyed by her presence.
Jemma can go to the stadium now, and Ashford is becoming a fan of Arsenal.
Vance has turned a large portion of Denby Hall’s park into a vegetable garden where he grows organic vegetables.
The little Frederick Brandon Ashford Philip has never had a nanny, and is being raised by his mum and dad, who, however, haven’t been sleeping for months.
Harring still hasn’t admitted to himself that the relationship with Cécile is serious, even though he erased all the numbers of the New York Fashion Week models from his phone. He keeps visiting his tailor every Wednesday morning.
Cécile has reduced the number of her therapists from three to one, and she no longer wears just black, but also dark blue.
Carly has stopped making peyote cakes.
