He opened his mouth to reply when the doors to the parlor busted open for a third time and paparazzi rushed in to surround Lacey. Lacey pulled her big hat over her face and turned away, while the hotel security guards hurried in to get rid of the press. Harrison hustled Lacey out of the room. They were both led to safety through a side door by one of the security guards.
I decided to use the commotion to get out of there. “Well, we’re off to have dinner, see you later,” I said to Marianne, Elinor, and Migel as I tugged Jeremy’s hand, and we slid out the parlor doors on either side of the paparazzi. We made it into the lobby and outside in a matter of moments and moved to the side to get out of the melee.
“Let’s go.” I motioned to Jeremy. “I know a really good little Italian place not far from here that’s probably still open.”
An hour later, I was full of pasta and regrets. Pasta was never a good choice when dealing with a pot belly. Clearly my half-ass diet was still in full swing. “Thanks for letting me sleep,” I said to Jeremy.
“Did you get enough rest?” he asked, running a hand through his dark hair and mussing it just enough to make it look even hotter than it normally did.
“Yep.” I pushed my glasses up my nose. “I feel much better. I took the couch, by the way, and now you can’t have it back. I slept on it before I took a shower.”
He sighed. “You didn’t need to do that, Meg.”
I waved a hand in the air. “You’ll just need to give me a heads-up if you’re going to bring Elinor or Marianne back to the room one night.” I’d tried to sound breezy and nonchalant.
He frowned. “Who are Elinor and Marianne?”
“Oh, sorry. I mean Karen and Suzanne.” Our waiter came to bring us more water.
“They recite from Sense and Sensibility, eh?” Jeremy asked.
I lifted my water glass to my lips, reminding myself that it was always wise to drink as much water as possible while traveling. “Yeah. Harrison and I call them Elinor and Marianne.”
Jeremy drank water too. “I hate to ask what you call Mary and Nigel.”
“Migel.” I winced.
Jeremy laughed. “Anyone else I should be on the lookout for?”
“Well, there’s Patsy and Mr. Periwinkle, and the other judges are their own sets of interesting.”
“How do you know who the judges are?” Jeremy asked.
“They announced their name on the online forum. It’s people who’ve been really into the Austen Society for a number of years. We all know each other.”
Jeremy leaned back in his seat. “How do they feel about all these Americans coming over here and horning in on their author?”
“They appreciate anyone who appreciates Austen,” I replied. “Though I’m sure they won’t like it if Americans win.”
“Are all the judges English?”
I shrugged. “Most of them. But there are a couple of Yanks on the panel.”
“So, besides the good doctor and the actress, our biggest competition is Migel, huh?”
“Yep. I’m pretty sure they think it truly is 1813.”
Jeremy allowed me to pay the check this time, which I appreciated. We were here for work. It would keep things much clearer. I had just finished signing the bill when he stood and helped me out of my chair, which I also had grown to appreciate. “What next?”
“We need to unpack all the clothing and borrow a steamer. I called ahead and the hotel has one. I already reserved it for the night.”
Jeremy looked impressed. “How did you manage that?”
“Charm.” I smiled and batted my eyelashes. “And the fact that I made friends with Patsy, the hotel manager, last year.”
He smiled at me and shook his head. “What’s the first event?”
“Cards, tomorrow afternoon.”
Jeremy cocked his head to the side. “I’m ready to win.”
Chapter 21
Thursday
The woman who ran the hotel was a perpetually drunk, formerly blonde woman who reminded me of Patsy from Absolutely Fabulous. Her name also happened to be Patsy, so it was a win/win. Her hair was up in a messy beehive. She wore too much makeup for her wrinkle-level and she smelled like booze. I liked her a lot. She knew the gossip about everyone and was always willing to share. My discussion with her the next morning served a two-fold purpose: the disbursing of information and the gathering of different information.
Over breakfast (scones and a coffee for me, a Bloody Mary for Patsy) I told her all about how Lacey and Harrison were only together for the publicity, how Harrison and I still planned to become engaged by the holidays, and how Jeremy and I were just friends. Yes, Jeremy was single.
“Marianne and Elinor wanted to know,” Patsy said with a slow wink, displaying an eyelid full of bright blue eye shadow.
“I know,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“What happens if you win?” Patsy asked, pushing her celery stalk around her glass.
“I don’t know, I get fired, I guess.” I didn’t want to talk about that possibility, ever since Ellie had pointed out that it didn’t make sense for me to defy my boss. I’d spent far too much time examining my newfound rebellious streak. I’d decided I’d take a page from Mitchell’s Southern book and think about that tomorrow, a la Scarlett O’Hara. Besides, having imparted the news I’d intended to, it was now time to collect the info I was looking for from Patsy.
“How are Mary and Nigel this year?” I asked, picking at my scone. On the surface it seemed like an innocuous question, perhaps about their health, but Patsy and I both knew that such a vague question opened the floor for her to tell me anything and everything she knew about Nigel and Mary’s chances this year.
“Nigel’s been favoring his right knee,” Patsy said, taking a swig of her drink.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I lied. “And Mary?”
“Tells me she memorized an entire chapter for the acting portion.”
“No!” Damn that Mary. Sounded like she had the same strategy Jeremy and I had. More being better. “Didn’t happen to mention which chapter, did she?”
“She did not. They seem as sharp at whist as ever,” Patsy added, bobbing the celery stalk up and down in her glass. “Saw them playing Marianne and Elinor last night for fun.”
Whist was Migel’s strongest skill. I swear they played it every night in real life. Jeremy was a decent card player, but Luke usually beat him. Had the night we’d played whist with Ellie and Luke and won merely been a fluke? I bit my lip. We’d have to really make up points in acting and dancing and costume if Nigel and Mary beat us at whist.
“So, what’s the real story between you and Mr. Remington?” Patsy asked, sipping on her Bloody Mary.
“I told you, we’re old friends.”
“Just friends, eh?” Patsy asked in as skeptical a voice as I’d ever heard.
“Yes.” I blinked.
She sighed and gave me another slow wink. “That’s a shame, darling.”
That afternoon at precisely thirteen hundred, I met Jeremy at the back door off the parlor that led out to the crescent, where the tents for the competition were set up. The whist tent had been arranged with multiple tables of four. The judges would walk around and monitor the play.