“What are you doing in Australia?” He always worried about her.
“Just looking around,” she said. He didn’t believe her.
“Don’t do anything foolish.”
“I won’t. And I’ll be back in time for your ceremony.” The twins had been impressed too.
When he told John Markham the next day, he responded with a promotion and a raise. He invented a fancy new title for him, since he was already stable master, and the raise was appropriate. Jonathan had promised to invite him to the ceremony too. And Annie learned while she was home that Annabelle Markham had a new secretary and Jonathan had just started dating her. The twins said she was very nice, and good-looking. Annie was happy for him. He deserved it. He had done so much for her, and always had. He was going to bring his new date to the knighting ceremony too. He still got tears in his eyes whenever he thought about it. He had never expected anything like it to happen to him. He was going to be a knight!
* * *
—
Annie left for Sydney after a week at home. She only stayed two weeks in the end, and was disappointed in the amateur races. She thought they were poorly organized and unprofessional. She was able to sign up for two of them and didn’t like her mount in either case. The women were rough and the organizers seemed crude to her. It wasn’t what she had hoped for, and she was happy to come home, although she thought the country was interesting.
She was happy to be back in England, and had dinner with Anthony when she returned. He was having one of his first events in the new job that weekend, and wanted her to come. It was to introduce a well-known American into British social circles. He’d rented a fabulous house in Mayfair for the weekend to give the party.
“I feel a bit like a pimp doing this kind of thing,” Anthony admitted to her. “These guys want to meet women, mostly hookers in the end, and be seen with respectable women. I draw the line at drugs, but they expect me to do everything for them. And they’re powerful men. They don’t take no for an answer. Will you come?” he asked her hopefully.
“I’m not going to impress anyone, Anthony. And I have nothing to wear.”
“Go to Harrods or Hardy Amies, your aunt Victoria shops there. I need you on my team,” he said, nearly begging her.
“I am on your team. Why do I have to be there?”
“To impress them.”
“Will Victoria be there?”
“She’s going to some ball in Venice. I need you.”
“All right, all right,” she said grudgingly. “What kind of dress?”
“Sexy, slinky, half naked,” he said without hesitating.
“That’s not me.”
“All right. As sexy as you dare.”
“Now I feel like a hooker,” she grumbled.
“That makes two of us. I feel like a pimp,” he said and she laughed.
She went to Harrods the next day and bought a simple black velvet strapless dress and a fake diamond necklace that looked real, black satin high heels and an evening bag. The night of the party, she pulled her blond hair into a neat-looking bun, put on a little makeup, and looked surprisingly regal when she arrived in Mayfair at the address of the house he had rented for the event. He took her aside immediately, and took a leather box out of a drawer. He opened it and held out a beautiful small antique tiara and placed it on her head as she looked at him in surprise.
“I borrowed it from Garrard’s. It was Queen Victoria’s. Now you look like a princess,” he said, looking pleased, and she was startled when she looked in the mirror.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“You can’t keep it. But you can say it was your great-great-great-grandmother’s.” He was perfect in the role of PR man, and she was impressed when she saw him in operation that night. The party went off seamlessly and his client was delighted. The press was there and took a photograph of her with the host, who was an oilman from Texas, who had just invested a fortune in aeronautics in England, and wanted to make a big splash. He had wanted to meet the queen, which Anthony told him wasn’t possible, so Her Royal Highness Princess Anne Louise was second best and an adequate consolation prize for the Texan, who invited her to visit him in Dallas. She looked beautiful that night and every inch a princess, and Anthony thanked her and kissed her cheek when she left and handed him the tiara.
“I thought you did a great job,” she complimented him. “You make an excellent pimp.”
“And you make an excellent princess, Your Royal Highness.” He was glad they were friends now and so was she. “I’m keeping you on my list. And I like the dress by the way.”