Lies and Weddings(70)
“What did you do?”
“I lunged at her in the middle of the forest like a gorilla in heat.”
Martha bellowed with laughter. “No you didn’t!”
“I did. It was in the middle of a wedding banquet, with lava flowing around us, and I lost my mind trying to inhale her face.”
“Sounds rather romantic.”
“It wasn’t very romantic for Eden. I shocked the bejesus out of her, and things between us have never been the same since.”
“You need to woo a woman slowly, don’t you know that?”
“Apparently I don’t. I was caught up in a moment and felt the urge to express all of my feelings, which as it turns out is always a mistake for me.”
Martha rolled onto her back and inhaled the steam deeply. “Let me see if I understand this…if you can fix your family’s financial problems, your mother won’t care if you marry Eden.”
“Uh, not exactly. If I manage to fix the finances, then I’m sure she’ll want me to marry a princess.”
“A princess?”
“Yes, a French one.”
“Ahhh. I see what’s happening now…Mummy’s one of those snobby bitches who wants her kids to marry up at all costs.”
“You hit the nail right on the head.”
“I think you need to tell your mother to shove it.”
“You haven’t met her.”
“I’d like to. And I’d love to meet Eden.” Martha entered the pool, floating up alongside Rufus. “You know, I have the most fabulous idea. Take me to Greshamsbury.”
“If I take you home, my mother’s going to immediately jump to conclusions.”
“That’s exactly what I’m hoping for…”
VI
LE ROYAL MANSOUR
MARRAKECH, MOROCCO ? NEXT MORNING
Rosina sat up in bed with her breakfast tray, eating her perfectly prepared omelet and drinking her black coffee as she scrolled through her phone. She came upon a news item and immediately started to text Arabella.
Rosina Leung: It’s working. Check Page Six right now.
Arabella Gresham: For what?
RL: You’ll see.
AG: One minute…
Arabella clicked on her Page Six app and loaded the home page of breaking gossip. Scrolling down past the usual nonsense about football players and fake housewives she didn’t care about, a headline caught her eye:
MARTHA DUNG’S SKY-HIGH ROMANCE
Love is literally in the air for Martha Dung. The Chinese heiress was photographed embracing a mysterious young man in a hot-air balloon high above Marrakech yesterday, the same man spotted leaving the ultra-exclusive Palais Rhoul this morning in a very rumpled tux. Sources have confirmed that the lanky lothario is none other than Rufus Gresham, Viscount St. Ives, the international playboy photographer who was named Tattle’s Most Eligible Bachelor three years in a row. Rufus, in addition to possessing the most symmetrical twelve-pack on the planet, is in possession of one of Britain’s oldest and biggest fortunes. If this isn’t a match made in the heavens, we don’t know what is.
Arabella could feel the blood rushing to her head. She started texting back feverishly:
AG: Oh my god oh my god oh my god can this be true?
RL: I’ve been watching love blossom with my very eyes.
AG: I googled her. She’s so dark. Is she Mongolian?
RL: She is Chinese, born in Hong Kong just like you!
AG: How come I don’t know the family?
RL: Father was from Fujian and settled in HK after you left.
AG: Mainland new money. And the mother?
RL: Former Hong Kong starlet.
AG: One of those. Does she speak English well?
RL: The mother? Slight Shanghai accent but acceptable. She only wears Chanel and Akris, you’ll love her.
AG: I meant Martha. How’s her English?
RL: Perfect. She studied in Australia.
AG: God help us. Where did she go to uni?
RL: No idea. Trust me, you’re not going to care where she went to uni when she bails out your family and funds ten new hotels for you.
AG: How much is she worth?
RL: Her net worth exceeds that of everyone on the Sunday Times Rich List.[*1]
AG: Sounds too good to be true.
RL: Please stop looking a gift horse in the mouth when I am trying to save your ass.
AG: Ok, ok, I’m jumping up and down!
RL: So is her mother. She’s dying for Martha to marry a good title.
AG: At least we have one thing in common.
RL: Rufus just informed me he’s inviting her to Greshamsbury. Turns out she’s obsessed with royals and has been in love with Rufus since that infamous photo was published!
AG: Really?
RL: Isn’t it meant to be? Once she sets eyes on Greshamsbury Hall it will be a fait accompli.
AG: Parfait!
RL: Time to roll out the red carpet. She needs the Full English.
AG: She’ll have cucumber sandwiches and Branston pickle coming out her ears.
RL: Don’t Branston pickle her, she needs the royal treatment. You need to throw a ball in her honor and invite every grand Brit you know.
AG: I’ll get the Devonshires, the Yorks, the Kents, the Michaels of Kent, the Gloucesters, the Grosvenors, the Cadogans, the Norfolks, the Northumberlands, the Richmonds, the Rothschilds, the Butes, the Bamfords, the Guinnesses, the Goldsmiths, Dame Maggie Smith, the Manners sisters, the Van Cutsem brothers, the Spencer twins, the Spencer-Churchills, the Mittals, the al-Thanis, the Astors, the Dufferin & Avas, the Duffields, the d’Abos, the de Bottons, the de Waldens, who else?