“Yes, sir, if it meets with your approval.”
“Of course I approve. I was hoping Anne would marry Prince Charles after I’d won the King George and Elizabeth Stakes, but an earl will have to do for my only daughter.”
They both laughed, neither of them thinking it was remotely funny.
“I wish you’d come to Wimbledon this year, Rosalie. Imagine, me there on Ladies’ Day and the only company I had was a boring old Swiss banker.”
Anne looked at James and grinned.
The waiters cleared the table and wheeled in a trolley bearing a crown of lamb in immaculate cutlet frills, which Harvey studied with great interest.
“Still,” said Harvey, chattering on, “it was thoughtful of you to ring me at Monte Carlo, my dear. I really thought I was going to die, you know. James, you wouldn’t have believed it. They removed a gallstone the size of a baseball from my stomach. Thank God, the operation was performed by one of the greatest surgeons in the world, Wiley Barker, the President’s surgeon. He saved my life.”
Harvey promptly undid his shirt and revealed a 4-inch scar across his vast stomach.
“What do you think of that, James?”
“Remarkable.”
“Daddy, really. We’re having dinner.”
“Stop fussing, honey. It won’t be the first time James has seen a man’s stomach.”
It’s not the first time I’ve seen that one, thought James.
Harvey pushed his shirt back into his trousers and continued:
“Anyway, it was really kind of you to phone me.” He leaned over and patted her hand. “I was a good boy too. I took your advice and kept that nice Doctor Barker on for another week in case any complications arose. Mind you, the price these doctors…”
James dropped his wine glass. The claret covered the tablecloth with a red stain.
“I’m so sorry.”
“You all right, James?”
“Yes, sir.”
James looked at Anne in silent outrage. Harvey was quite unperturbed.
“Bring a fresh tablecloth and some more wine for Lord Brigsley.”
The waiter opened a fresh bottle of claret and James decided it was his turn to have a little fun. Anne had been laughing at him for three months. Why shouldn’t he tease her a little, if Harvey gave him the chance? Harvey was still talking.
“You a racing man, James?”
“Yes, sir, and I was delighted by your victory in the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes—for morereasons than you realize.”
In the diversion caused by the waiters clearing the table, Anne whispered sotto voce:
“Don’t try to be too clever, darling—he’s not as stupid as he sounds.”
“Well, what do you think of her?”
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Rosalie.”
“Magnificent. I put £5 each way on her.”