was enjoying it, and some other questions. All very harmless, and he had the most delicious chocolate biscotti. Actually, we didn't have tea. It was sherry. It was a wonderful sherry, but when I asked him where I might get a bottle he apologized and said it was bottled for him expressly. I've never seen him again, but I think he liked me,' Savannah concluded. 'He said that if he could ever be of help I was simply to leave him a message, and he would help me. Wasn't that nice? Maybe I'll ask him if he can do something about Gillian Brecknock. I wonder if he could. I hate it when Reg goes to see her.'
Emily nodded. 'Sounds a bit odd,' she said. 'But nice.' She yawned. 'I have to get some rest if we're going up to London day after tomorrow, Sava.' Turning away from her friend, she curled up and was soon asleep. Lady Palmer quickly joined her.
The two women spent the next day relaxing, riding out into the autumn countryside, and playing with Savannah's children. They went to bed early, and the following morning were up early. Tonight Emily would be flying home, and the two friends were going up to London for a few hours of shopping before Lord Palmer's chauffeur would take them out to Heathrow. In late afternoon they stopped in at Claridge's for tea.
'Put us somewhere discreet,' Savannah said to the maitre d'. 'We don't wish to be disturbed by fans, Charles.'
'Of course, Lady Palmer,' the maitre d' said, leading them to a table in a corner where they might observe the room without necessarily being observed. 'High tea?'
Savannah nodded. 'Perfect!' she said.
'I'll send the waiter over immediately,' the maitre d' replied with a bow, and he hurried off.
'I love having tea here,' Emily said. 'It's so genteel, even today.'
'Yes,' Savannah agreed. 'Well, are you ready to finish
'The whole thing is in my head and ready to be written. Poor Trahern will be very disappointed to know our time is almost over and done. He's been a most charming character, and I've actually enjoyed interacting with him. I think I would have felt guilty about it, except I made him look like Devlin.' She chuckled.
'Will Mick recognize himself?' Savannah was curious.
'No,' Emily said. 'You describe a character on the pages of your manuscript, and you see him or her one way, but every reader sees them a little differently. Devlin hasn't recognized himself. It's odd. I've come to like Trahern. He's been more a friend and a confidant for me. Given the nature of what I do, I don't really have a lot of friends. Rina Seligmann is in her late fifties, and more a surrogate mother to me. You're in England.' Emily laughed. 'And the truth is, I don't really have a great deal of time for friends.'
'I know what you mean,' Savannah agreed. 'If it weren't for Reg and the children I'd be pretty much alone. I'm just barely involved in village life, but only because of him and the kids. And I don't really have any close women friends except you, and as you pointed out, we're an ocean apart. Well, that's the life of a successful writer, isn't it? We live for and are consumed by our work. It's a lonely business.'
'But you manage to do it even married with children,' Emily remarked, and then her eye caught a couple entering the room. The woman looked familiar. 'Oh, my God!' she said, and forced herself not to stare.
'What is it?' Savannah wanted to know.
'Your husband just came in with a woman who looks suspiciously like Madame Rose,' Emily said, her fingers fumbling for her teacup. 'Thinner, but same face and blazing red hair.'
'Oh, that's Gillian Brecknock,' Savannah said casually. 'Reg's little friend.'
'She looks older than him,' Emily observed from beneath lowered lashes.
'She's twelve years older, sweetie,' Savannah replied with a small grin.
'Why does he do it? I can see he loves you and the kids,' Emily said.
'Well, I wondered that myself,' Savannah answered, 'when I found out he was coming up to town to see her every now and again. He swore to me when we married that he had given her up, but as he obviously hadn't, I hired an investigator to find out for me what was going on. Gillian styles herself an actress, but she hasn't had a play in five years, and she hasn't done a film in eight. She needs to support herself, and Reg is just one of a number of friends she has who suffer from what I call naughty-boy syndrome. Gillian has become a dominatrix. It's all very discreet. A number of very prominent men go to her for what is referred to as correction. She's obviously very good at what she does. I was shopping here in town about a year ago and saw them together. That's when I got suspicious, but I suppose it's harmless, and I know Reg loves me, so I simply pretend I don't know, like the wives of all the other men for whom Gillian serves a purpose. However, she was Reg's girlfriend before she became what she is, which makes it a little different. He handles her investments, and now and again she calls him.'
'And you manage not to kill her?' Emily said. 'I'd be furious, not to mention jealous of a woman like that.'
'Oh, I have my little ways of getting even just to remind her who's really in charge of Reginald Charles George Arthur Palmer,' Savannah said as she popped a miniature lemon-curd tart into her mouth and ate it. 'You'll see when we go out.'
The two women finished their tea and prepared to leave for the airport. Savannah stood up. She smoothed her cream-and-beige tweed skirt and the cream cashmere turtleneck she was wearing, checked her lip gloss, and fluffed her shoulder-length ebony curls. Then, sliding from behind the table, she gave Emily a wink and charted their path to take them directly by the table where her husband and Gillian Brecknock were now seated. Emily followed, swallowing back the giggles bubbling up in her throat.
Savannah stopped directly in front of the table. She smiled brightly. 'Darling! What a coincidence! Em and I had just finished our tea when I saw you. Gillian, what a surprise. You're well, I hope.' She bent and air-kissed the woman as her husband stood up from his seat at the table.
'Very, darling,' Gillian Brecknock replied in her plummiest tones. 'You look wonderful for someone who lives in the country. I do adore tweed, but one just doesn't wear it in London these days.'
'This is my best friend, Emilie Shann, the novelist,' Savannah introduced her.
'Charmed, Miss Shann,' Gillian Brecknock replied, offering Emily four limp fingers. 'My mother adores your novels. When is the next one coming out here?'
Lord Palmer looked very uncomfortable, Emily noted, pleased. He should. He was such a pig. 'Em really not certain,' Emily answered the woman.
'Reg, my love,' Savannah said brightly, 'I've got the car, and I'm running Emily out to the airport. Are you coming home tonight? I can come back and pick you up. I have a wonderful surprise for you.' She hesitated, and then continued. 'Oh, I just can't wait for you to come home! I have to tell you now! We're expecting again!'
Lord Palmer grabbed Savannah and kissed her a lingering kiss. 'What fantastic news!' he exclaimed. 'Yes, I'll wait for you here at Claridge's, darling. Shall I book us a room for the night so we can celebrate?' he asked her.
'Oh, darling, what fun! That's brilliant,' Savannah responded. 'I'll come back to the hotel after I drop Emily. But no champagne for me now that I'm preggers again.' She laughed. She gave her husband a kiss and, sliding from his embrace, smiled at Gillian Brecknock. 'So good to see you, darling. Ta!'
'Good-bye, Miss Brecknock,' Emily said. 'My housekeeper just adores your old movies on the telly. So nice to have met you. When I tell Essie she'll be thrilled.' And, turning, Emily followed Savannah from the restaurant.
They both burst into giggles as the hotel doorman signaled Lady Palmer's car, and they climbed into it.
'What are they serving in there, m'lady? Never thought tea was that funny,' the family chauffeur asked, grinning in his mirror at the two women, who were caught in the throes of their laughter.
'Just a particularly silly jest, Jim,' Lady Palmer answered, and she pressed the button that put up the privacy window between driver and passengers.
'That was fun!' Emily said.
'I know,' Savannah replied. 'It's almost too easy with Gillian. Is Essie really a fan of the bitch's?'
'Essie wouldn't know Gillian Brecknock if she fell over her,' Emily responded, 'but after that remark about her mother enjoying my books I couldn't resist having my revenge. Wait until Mama reads
'I really am going to miss you,' Savannah said.
