“Don’t fret, my dear.” Letty tapped her gloved fingertips against her temple. “I have it all up here. I am to make the introduction seem casual and say he is a friend of the spa, which is the truth. I am indebted to Mr. Godwin…and to you. Your friendship and happiness mean everything to me, and I will not let you down.”
Gigi squeezed her friend’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, dearest. Now enjoy yourself, and I will bring your handsome devil to you and your parents after he arrives.”
Gigi circulated, chatting with friends from London and extolling upon the virtues of the spa and local businesses. During a lull, she enjoyed a break with her parents, who’d arrived yesterday. She stood with them in an alcove, watching as guests lined up at the pump to sample the famous water straight from the source.
“I am proud of you, dear.” Resplendent in an indigo gown that complemented her curves and upswept raven hair, Mama said warmly, “Your gala is a smashing success.”
“The credit belongs to Miss Letty,” Gigi demurred. “I merely helped with a few details.”
Mama’s violet eyes twinkled. “Well, whoever decided to incorporate souvenirs into the décor was a genius.”
Building upon the success of her marketing scheme, Gigi had decorated with the theme of romance in mind. She’d ordered figurines of the star-crossed lovers from the local potter and sprinkled them throughout the room. The menu cards at the buffet table were written on a lovely cream cardstock engraved with a sketch of the lovers. The tinted pink glasses used to serve the water came from a nearby manufacturer. Guests who admired the items could find them all in the gift shop, along with other merchandise made by Chuddums’s artisans.
Gigi smiled with satisfaction. “Thank you, Mama. I learned from the best.”
“You certainly did.” Papa, whose formal evening wear suited his austere handsomeness, put an arm around Mama’s waist. “Your mama isn’t London’s most sought-after hostess for nothing.”
“You are exaggerating, Marcus,” Mama protested.
“Pandora, my love, there are two things in life that are impossible to exaggerate—your social acumen and your beauty.”
Papa gallantly kissed Mama’s hand. While Gigi was accustomed to her parents’ open affection, her recent experiences gave her a new awareness of their intimacy. Papa’s head remained bent over Mama’s hand a moment longer than necessary, and although his expression was stoic, there was a glint in his steel-blue eyes that she hadn’t noticed before. Mama, for her part, was blushing like a newlywed.
Eww. Stop noticing your parents flirting.
Gigi thought of Conrad, her pulse quickening. Introducing him to her parents was a big step, yet it felt…right. At the very least, it didn’t make her feel like running for the hills. Anyway, if she ran, Conrad would undoubtedly give chase. A depraved image from The Naughty Naiad fogged her brain, heat blooming inside her. She still couldn’t believe that Conrad had shown her the erotic book…or how titillating she’d found it.
Realizing that her father was addressing her, she tamped down a guilty blush.
“You have inherited your mama’s charm, Gigi,” he said. “How fetching you look.”
“Thank you, Papa. This dress is courtesy of Mrs. Sommers.” She beamed at him. “And it will require only the teensiest supplementation of my pin money this month.”
Papa raised his brows. “Define teensiest.”
“Now, darling,” Mama said. “You know how important it is to support local businesses. Moreover, Mrs. Sommers charges a fraction of what the modistes in London do, and that dress makes our Gigi look like an angel. Don’t you agree that the effect of the silver netting over that water-blue satin is exquisite?”
The dress was heavenly, with its demure off-the-shoulder neckline, fitted bodice, and wide, frothy skirts. Colette had secured Gigi’s hair in a topknot, leaving dangling ringlets to frame her face. Fresh flowers, white silk gloves, and a pearl necklace completed the look. When Mama gave her a subtle nudge, Gigi performed a graceful pirouette.
“I am no arbiter of fashion, but as a former military man, I avoid fighting losing battles,” Papa said wryly. “Which is all battles where the two of you are concerned.”
“In that case, Papa.” Gigi extended one elegantly shod foot. “I hope you do not mind that I ordered matching shoes as well.”
“Those buckles are exquisite,” Mama exclaimed. “I shall have to order a pair myself.”
Papa’s sigh was that of the long-suffering. “Since I risk becoming a pauper if this conversation continues, I shall make myself useful and fetch some champagne.”
“That would be lovely, darling,” Mama agreed.
After Papa strode off, Gigi looked at her mother, and they burst into giggles.
“Don’t mind Papa,” Mama said. “You know he enjoys indulging us.”
“I know.” Seeing the glow on her mother’s beautiful face, Gigi felt her heart lift. “You look well. The time away did you good.”
“As usual, Papa had the right of it.” Her mother’s smile turned wistful. “I did need some time to collect myself after Sister Agatha’s passing.”
