Okay, I could see that was going to be fraught with problems, but I’d cross that bridge…
My dad entered the discussion. “We’ve put by a nice sum for when you got married, but I spoke to Rafe, and he says the wedding will cost next to nothing, seeing as it’s being held at his house and catered by his staff. He refused our money, so we thought we’d add it to the house money and buy something nice here.”
My mother nodded. “We almost spent your wedding money on a new car. After you and Todd broke up, it didn’t seem likely that we’d be called upon to pay for a wedding.” They both chuckled as though this were a humorous anecdote.
I was long over the humiliation of Todd’s betrayal, but nobody likes to be reminded of that day their boyfriend butt-dialed them while engaging in amorous activities with somebody else.
“First, however, we’ve got your hen party to think about. Violet and I had such fun planning it.” Her eyes twinkled. I hadn’t seen Mom that excited since she dug up a jeweled bracelet that could have belonged to Cleopatra.
Clearly, I hadn’t managed to impress upon Vi how very much I did not want this. I turned to Mom. “Please, I don’t want to be paraded through the streets of Oxford on some drunken pub crawl.”
“Nonsense. It’s a rite of passage, my love. Don’t worry. We’ll be there to hold you up if you get tipsy.” So not the maternal support I’d been hoping for.
I wanted to argue more, but Dad grabbed my mother’s arm. “Come on, Susan. We’ve got drinks with Professor Pinkerton and her husband. Mustn’t keep them waiting.”
Mom glanced at her watch. “Right. Never a dull moment.” And with a wave, she and my dad were off.
Chapter 6
Sunday morning found me at Rafe’s place. We were enjoying a lazy morning which seemed more than usually luxurious as I’d been so busy recently. William made me brunch—eggs Florentine with homemade cheese scones. So good. While I ate, I told Rafe about my dread over my hen night and my mother’s insistence on this embarrassing ritual.
“Poor you,” he said, looking slightly appalled.
I put extra butter on my scone. Not that I needed it, but I had no willpower where William’s cooking was concerned. “I relied on Violet to stop her, but Vi’s as bad. How am I going to get out of this?”
“I’m not sure you can. It’s only one night, and if it gets too much, text me and I’ll spirit you away.”
“Unless you’re underneath a lap dancer at the time,” I muttered.
“I beg your pardon?”
“My father’s got plans, too, you know. For you.”
“I’ll have Lochlan put a stop to that. All the wedding planning seems to be precipitously early.”
He was right. Even Jennifer, my oldest friend, had decided to make a holiday of it and was arriving tomorrow. She was a fan of the exclamation mark at the best of times. When she was excited, there were more punctuation marks than letters.
“Hey Loose!!!!!!!!!!” her most recent email had started.
“Sick news!!!!!!! I got extra time off work and I’m headed your way!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Can’t wait to catch up, see Oxford and meet the fiancé!!!!!!!!!!!! Can’t believe you found your lobster first!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
I had to smile that she’d used a Friends reference. We’d watched all ten seasons together.
I’d tried to explain it to Rafe, but he had no idea who Ross and Rachel were or why anyone would be interested in them. The lobster thing was a step too far. I could imagine him looking at me, all cool and intellectual, and saying, “But that’s absurd. Lobsters don’t mate for life. They’re not even monogamous.”
I didn’t even try.
Apart from his lack of modern culture, Rafe was an excellent companion, and we chatted about his work, my work, the wedding, the future. Now that I’d accepted my feelings for him and his proposal, we were free to share everything, knowing we’d be part of each other’s lives until death did us part. Mine, most likely, but I pushed that thought away.
When William returned to clear my all-but-licked-clean plate, he brought in a wrapped gift. “This came for you both by private courier.”
“Ooh, a present,” I squealed.
Rafe looked amused. “You’re like a small child at Christmas.”
“I don’t care what you think. I love presents.”
“Then you’d better open it.”
I pulled the silver ribbon away and happily tore into the white and silver paper. Inside was a white cardboard box. I removed the lid and peeked inside.
I saw something wooden that appeared old. Gingerly, I lifted out a box with strange symbols carved into it. I thought at first the writing was Egyptian hieroglyphics, which I could read, having spent many a summer helping my parents on digs. However, while the symbols were similar, they weren’t Egyptian.
I showed Rafe, who accepted the box and studied the inscription. “These are runes,” he said. “Very old. I wonder if this is from Lochlan.” He glanced around. “Was there a card?”
I’d been so eager to unwrap the present, I hadn’t even looked for a card. Now we searched, but there wasn’t any indication who the gift had come from. “Open the box,” I said. “Maybe there’s a card inside.”
Sometimes I’m not so smart.
He lifted the lid, and an odd expression crossed his face.
“What is it?” I leaned forward to look. Then pulled my head sharply back again. “Ugh. It looks like camel dung that’s been petrified.” That might sound like an odd thing to say, but I’d spent enough summers in Egypt that I knew what petrified camel dung looked like. Like a baked potato in its jacket left in the oven too long. “Why would Lochlan send us camel dung?”
“I don’t think it is from Lochlan, and it’s not camel dung.”
He put two fingers into the box and retrieved a note. “‘To Lucy, from an admirer,’” he read aloud. “And there are instructions. ‘Break off a little of this mixture,
