“An after-party.” He mulled this over. “Does this mean we could have a select list of guests?”
“Certainly. You could exclude some of the guests from the ceremony and include some others that were not fortunate enough to receive a ceremony invite. The after-party can be as formal or informal as you’d like.”
This appealed to him. He knew his sister and her fiancé had a lot of friends—friends that had to be overlooked for invitations to the ceremony in order to invite heads of state and dignitaries from all over Europe and beyond. This would be a way for his sister to have everyone she cared about around her on her big day.
“I like it,” he said. “But for the moment, let’s just keep this between us. I’ll have a list of guests for you by the end of the week.”
“That’s good because we don’t have much time to plan something like this.” She hesitated.
“What’s bothering you?”
Her gaze lifted to meet his. “With it being so close to the wedding, a lot of people might have other obligations already?”
“Let me worry about it. You pick out an appropriate invite and I’ll put together the list.”
“What about the venue?”
“That’s the easiest part. We will have it at the Hampstead estate next to the lake. It’s about fifteen kilometers from here. Far enough that it won’t bother my mother with the loud music.”
Bianca’s eyes widened. “You were serious about letting your hair down.”
“Definitely. I just wish I’d have thought of it.”
“Why? I don’t mind sharing ideas with you. After all, it’s my job.”
He shook his head. “It’s not that. If I’d have had this idea a lot sooner, I could have booked some headline bands. As it is, they are probably all booked.”
They continued to talk about bands. He named the ones he’d heard his sister mention. Then he inquired about Bianca’s favorite band and in turn, he told her his. For a moment, it wasn’t work. It was like they were two friends getting to know each other.
“Thank you.” Bianca finished her list of potential bands. “I’ll do the best I can to get someone your sister will approve of.”
“And my mother doesn’t need to know about any of this for now. Speaking of which, it is time to dress for dinner.” He got to his feet. And then he realized he needed to make something else perfectly clear. “You will be reporting to me on this wedding. I know my mother likes to think she’s in control, but I would like to have dinner with you each evening to go over everything—to make sure we’re on track.”
Bianca nodded. “Understood. And we can discuss my promotional campaign.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “I won’t forget. I already have my people working on some preliminary mockups. I’ll have them for you to approve shortly.”
Her face lit up with excitement. “Thank you.”
“I’ll stop back and walk you to dinner.” And with that he left.
CHAPTER SIX
IT WASN’T A QUESTION.
It wasn’t an invite.
It was a declaration. Prince Leopold woul
d be escorting her to dinner.
As Bianca stared into the mirror, she became distracted. Try as she might, she couldn’t forget the turmoil back in Tuscany. Her attention focused on her face. She searched for signs that she was a Bartolini. Her nose—was it too small? She turned this way and that way.
Her eyes—were they too close together? Were they the same size and shape as her father’s? She struggled to conjure up the exact details of her father’s face. The more she struggled to recall, the more frustrated she became.
As she continued to stare at her reflection, she remembered people commenting on how much she resembled her mother. Was that a clue? Did she look like her mother because her father wasn’t truly her father?
And if she wasn’t a Bartolini, who was she?