Chapter 47
With the ceremony concluded, we entered the Rampart Room to be met with a rain of confetti.
Of course everyone was agog about what the hell had happened on the south lawn—something must have alerted them, because faces had been plastered against the windows—but fortunately no one came up to us and asked. Enough people had been out there, and they could fill the others in.
We danced our first dance, kissed when spoons tapped glasses, stopped by each table to chat with our guests, and dined on the meal Chef Edouard had outdone himself to prepare for us. The lobster tail looked delicious, but the memory of my reaction to prawns was too recent for it to tempt me.
The Venetian Hour was about to start when Mrs. Miller, Granddad’s nurse, approached us. “Mr. Martin is—”
I didn’t gi
