Page 32 of Duchess Material

“I’m going to murder him.” Lucy groaned.

“Who is it? It’s clearly someone we know,” Vanna said. “I don’t know who his mum is but… wait. Does Rita know? Are we talking about Rita?”

Lucy blushed in an incriminating way.

“Oh, it’s Winston,” Vanna guessed. “Is it? Well, that makes all the sense in the world, Lucy. Oh, I’m happy for you both.”

“She was paranoid you’d be cross with her!”

“I’m sorry if it makes it all weird. We are dating in a weird cart-before-horse way. We decided to give romance a shot since everything else was downright idyllic.”

Vanna smiled. “Well, that’s wonderful. Why would I be offended?”

“Well, George and Winston are cousins—”

“And he’s Rita’s son!” Vanna laughed. “Oh my God, he would deserve someone as sweet as you. She must be over-the-moon. I’m his godmother. I’d be a lousy godparent for being upset.”

Rita arrived outside the conference room.

“Are we gossiping?” She whispered and rubbed her hands together.

Vanna smacked her arm. “Mairead, thanks for leaving me in the dark!”

“About what?”

“Winston and Lucy. I heard they are dating!”

“She guessed,” Lucy winced.

Natalie snickered. “We assume you know.”

“Yes, but I was sworn to secrecy by my son, so… I was on good behaviour for fear he would get cross. I am chuffed.”

“She was worried,” Natalie said.

“Oh, stop. Why? Darling, Bruno and I have wanted to hear this news for months. Thank you for finally putting him out of his pining, unrequited misery. All I ask is you be good to him. I know you will be.”

“I intend to be,” Lucy said. “So very much.”

* * *

Winston endured a performance put on by all of Henry Tudor’s wives. It was interesting even if not his preferred way of going. It was worth it to see Lucy happy. She beamed. He was now in on the jokes. Lucy, Natalie, and Sheena regularly quoted the soundtrack. Lucy loved it. That alone was worth the trip and the suit for the evening.

They grabbed drinks after the show and Lucy was still all smiles.

She sipped her gin cocktail. “So, like are you any relation to the Tudors? I know it’s like… different?”

“No, unless there is something I don’t know,” Winston said. “My late grandmother was not the biological child of Princess Bethany of Kent. So, she wasn’t Queen Margaux’s full biological sister. Instead, she was her father’s niece. He adopted her as an infant after her mother died. She was raised a princess and had the title, but she wasn’t related to the royal side of the family. The Duchy isn’t connected to the Tudors. It was instead connected to the Norwegian house. My great-great-great grandmother was a Norwegian Princess. Given that line and intermarriage… a tiny bit? Through the British line and then the Norwegian line.”

“Wild.”

“What about your family?”

“Um… who knows? Americans. My dad was Scots Irish… supposedly. My mum’s family is straight up Polish. That’s pretty common in Chicago. They immigrated in the early 1900s, but you can still find my grandmother and mother making pierogi together.”

“What is that?”

“Dumplings. Amazing, delicious dumplings.”

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