Delia blinked. “A party?”
“But of course!” he said, laughing. “What better way to reassure our friends that nothing has changed?”
“But, César, things have changed,” she pointed out.
She was ignored. “We will invite the most influential people in society—Lady Gray, Mrs. Williams… and your cousin, the duke, of course, and his delightful wife. You will make the arrangements?”
“I could,” she murmured doubtfully. “But we can’t really afford to host such a lavish affair, can we? We’re supposed to be cutting costs these days, you know.”
“Nonsense!” he scoffed, brushing that objection aside with a wave of his hand. “We do not worry about such trifles here. This is the Savoy. We do not pinch the pennies.”
“I realize that, darling. Still, it’s not as if we have much choice these days.”
“It shall be a dinner,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Twelve courses. For the dessert, Auguste shall carve an ice sculpture in which to put a serving for each guest. The best wines, of course, and the best champagne. I wonder if there is enough of the Clicquot ’91 for eighty people?”
“Eighty people?” She stared at him, aghast. That particular champagne was the most expensive one in the Savoy cellars, and to serve it to eighty people would run up an exorbitant sum.
“We shall engage a salon orchestra to play through dinner,” Ritz went on happily, not seeming to notice her shock. “Then we can have dancing afterward.”
Suddenly, Simon’s words from their first meeting echoed back to her.
I’ve been here quite long enough to note the wanton extravagance displayed by every department of this hotel.
Remembering those words as Ritz prattled on about this wholly unnecessary party when everyone’s livelihood—including that of the man before her—depended on austerity, she truly appreciated for the first time the validity of Simon’s criticism. But before she could remind Ritz again of the constraints on their finances these days, her friend spoke.
“I shall leave the arrangements to you, dear Delia, of course. The decorations must be superb. Orchids, of course, and perhaps some of those—” He broke off, waving his hands in the air. “What is that flower? The one of New Guinea that is orange and purple, about so big, and has the shape of a bird?”
“Bird-of-paradise?” she murmured faintly, remembering the cost of those ran about six shillings each.
“That is the one, yes. We shall have them at every table. I wonder—should the vases be crystal?”
She’d never been one to let cost get in the way of a good party, God knows, but as agreeable as all this sounded, she knew she simply must bring Ritz back to reality.
“I’m happy to arrange a party, if you like, but I’m not sure Calderon will approve the expense.”
“Him?” In that one word, there was no mistaking his opinion ofthe other man, and Delia winced. It wasn’t surprising, of course, that Ritz didn’t like Simon. He clearly resented the other man’s power over him and he was accustomed to being in absolute control.
Nonetheless, it was not like Ritz to show such open contempt for a peer. He was a snob from head to toe. But then, she thought, remembering the Duchess of Moreland’s odious condescension, Simon’s title was terribly new, and in consequence, perhaps Ritz didn’t deem it worthy of his usual obsequious deference.
Either way, Delia knew that Ritz was going to have to do what she had done: accept the inevitable and call a truce. Perhaps, she thought, studying her friend’s resentful expression, she could help that along. Before she could decide how to set about it, he spoke again.
“You think I care what that contemptible tyrant approves?” he demanded, his voice rising a notch.
She stared at him unhappily as more of Simon’s words came back to her.
Ritz will have to accept my way of doing things, and frankly, I’m not sure he can.
How right he had been.
“Well,” she said in reply, trying to take a reasonable, middle-ground sort of approach, “he is in charge of hotel expenses these days. A party such as this will require his permission.”
Ritz drew himself up. “This is my hotel. I do not ask permission to do what is best here. Especially not from men like him. Men who do things on the cheap, who do not have the vision to see beyond a quarterly profit?Non.”
Delia feared that reminding her friend of tiresome facts was only making matters worse, but she persevered. After all, she was the one being asked to plan this party.
“Of course you are,” she said soothingly. “Of course you are. But we must consider whether or not this is a good time for a party. Theinvestors are expecting a profitable first quarter, and we won’t be able to meet that expectation if we throw any lavish parties. Perhaps when the season starts, we can work with him to plan something acceptable to both of you.”
“I have no intention of working with him. He must work with me.”
