“Dub,” said Guinness, nodding.
“Dubmeans ‘W,’ as in ‘winner,’ ” noted Rich.
Emma smiled at her husband and gazed at her sons. All of them wore suits and ties, their hair clean and combed but still a bit wild. She was filled with love for them. Rich caught her eye and winked. He never made her feel ashamed, ever. He justlikedher, as a person and a wife. All the booze she’d imbibed and the Blenheim Bouquet hit her at once, and she was overcome with emotion.
“I took it all for granted,” she said, standing again, knocking down her chair again, and causing the same man to tilt her upright again. “So sorry,” she said to him.
“S’all right,” said the butler.
“Good Lord, Emma,” said Cleo. “Sit down!”
“Now that it’s all gone,” said Emma, making sure not to slur but to punctuate her words carefully. “Now I get it. Rich Catalfamo, you wereeverything.”
Rich stood, walked around the table, set her chair to rights, sat down in it, and pulled Emma into his lap. “Shhh,” he said, into her hair. His arms were strong and warm. She curled into his embrace, reminding herself that she also loved Rich’s eleven-dollar cologne, Old Spice Classic.
“Pass the wine, please,” said Donna.
“Eeeeew! Don’t kiss!” said Jameson. Rich kissed Emma’s neck.
“Dub,” said Guinness, smiling.
Simon tapped his glass with a silver fork and stood. He cleared his throat, looking toward his father. “Welcome to Mumberton,” he said. “Not all of you know, but this castle has been in my family since the year 1205.”
“Why wouldn’t they know?” said Mac.
“We’re just so glad you’re home!” cried Louisa the freaky librarian, who had entered the dining room wearing a long maroon-and-gold striped gown. She strode to Mac’s side. Her eye shadow matched her dress: maroon on the lids, gold above.
“I met Simon’s mother in town when we were young ones. I was the new veterinarian. She asked if I could castrate her bears!” said Mac, jarringly.
“What does ‘castrate’ mean?” said Jameson.
“To castrate is to remove the testicles,” said Penelope.
“I’m a simple Scottish veterinarian!” said Mac. “I was not to this manor born!”
“It was an unconventional pickup line, but it worked,” said Simon. “My father came to help my mother with the bears, and my mum and dad fell in love, and eventually, he devoted himself to Mumberton Castle.”
Louisa produced a pillbox and began counting pills for Mac. “Notnow,” he hissed at her, and she sheepishly put the medication away.
Mac spoke, his voice weak but audible. “We’ve been waiting a long time for young Simon to find a bride up to the task of taking on Mumberton,” said Mac. “I’d propose a toast to the next Lady Rampling, but…” He seemed to deflate. “Where is she, now?” he said. “What’s happened? I know something happened…but I forget what it was.”
“Sylvie didn’t know what she was getting into. I should have told her sooner, but I…I didn’t tell her. But I wrote it all down, and…she’s reading it, I suppose. Or she’s read it, and she’s gone.”
“Simon, what the hell?” said Florence, getting up.
“Flo,” said Rashid, trying to placate her.
“She’s been through so much,” said Florence, her voice rising as she remained upright. “I told her to believe in you. I told her I thought she could trust someone. I told her to trustyou.”
“You’re right,” said Simon sadly. “I was just…I was afraid she would give up on me if she knew how complicated…”
“You own this castle? Is that where your money comes from?” said Florence.
“My dear,” said Mac, “that’s where the moneygoes.”
Emma looked at Simon. Instead of anger at the man who’d apparently kept secrets from Sylvie, Emma felt sympathy. She knew what desperation tasted like in the back of your throat. She knew how desire for something false to be true could warp your morals and change you into a stranger to yourself.
“I lied, too,” said Emma.
