Page 50

“ P ippa, my dear,” said the Dowager Duchess of Larsen, “you and I truly are geniuses.” She raised her glass to the Dowager Marchioness and sank back in her chair at the dining room table at Larsen Manor.

“That we are, my dear.” Pippa brought her champagne glass to her lips and took a hefty sip.

She was fairly certain it was not even noon yet—too early to be drinking champagne, she supposed.

But rules were made to be broken. Besides, this sugar-filled morning tea that Sandra had provided was just screaming out to be washed down with a few bubbles.

“Where exactly are our two young lovebirds today?” she asked.

“They have gone for a picnic in Hyde Park, if you can believe it.” Sandra laughed heartily.

She pulled the edge off a fruit bun and gave a piece to each of the dogs, who were snuffling around beneath the table in search of crumbs.

“To think, my Wyatt, who claimed he would never give his heart to a woman, is taking his wife off for a picnic .” She emptied her champagne glass and waved the footman away as he approached the table to refill it.

She grabbed the bottle herself and poured out another glass. Bubbles erupted onto the tabletop.

Pippa chuckled, reaching for an elaborate-looking slice filled with what appeared to be lemon custard.

“That is almost as amusing as my Gemma going along with him. Her old self would simply die to know she was doing something so utterly romantic.” She scooped Patch up from the floor and fed him a large piece of lemon slice—which was not nearly as tasty as it looked.

“Wherever would those two be without us?”

Sandra scanned the plates of food on the table, opting for an enormous pink meringue. “I know where Wyatt would be. Latched to that hideous Henrietta Henford, that's where. That boy had better be thanking me until the day I die.”

Pippa scratched Patch under his chin. “What did Martha say when she heard about Miss Henford's demise?”

Sandra sipped her champagne and cackled loudly. “Oh, my dear, it was simply wonderful. I may have delighted a little too much in reading the news to her. She has been acting terribly put out. As though Miss Henford's actions were a direct slight on her.”

“That sounds about right,” Pippa snorted. When it came to questionable sons- and daughters-in-law, she and Sandra had certainly drawn the short end of the stick.

“In any case,” Sandra continued, “I do believe she is beginning to warm to Gemma a little.”

“Good,” Pippa said firmly. The thought that anyone might think badly of her granddaughter galled her, especially after all Gemma had been through.

Sandra reached over and pressed a bejeweled hand against Pippa's. “You ought to be very proud of Gemma. Her mother would be very proud of her too. And very grateful to you for all you have done for her.”

Pippa felt a sudden lump in her throat and chased it away with hurried mouthful of champagne.

She knew Sandra was right—her lost daughter would be filled with pride and joy to see where Gemma had ended up.

But her job was only just beginning. “Well,” she said firmly “That may be.

But I'll not be satisfied until all three of my granddaughters are happily married.”

“I have no doubt you will succeed,” said Sandra, raising her glass to her friend once more. “If we can make our hot-headed young Duke and Duchess see the light, then you, my dear friend, can do anything!”

The End?