‘Why would you want some aged, overpriced filet mignon when you have the world’s best burger?’ she asks.
I really can’t tell if that’s complimentary or offensive or both.
‘Ethan is not what you think, okay, we’re not together,’ I tell her.
‘Oh, right, so he’s free for the taking?’ she replies.
I hesitate for a second.
‘He’s my ex, sort of, and I told him he could come for a free holiday – that’s it. And, well, that he could pretend to be my plus-one. But that’s really it.’
‘You’re not over him then,’ she points out.
‘What? No, I absolutely am,’ I insist. ‘What the two of us had was just a weird sex thing, but it was too much. We just cause trouble, whenever we get together, so we agreed to just be friends.’
‘Cuz, all I’m hearing is that you brought your ex – who sounds frankly like the shag of a lifetime – to a family wedding. You are not over him. But, sure, I’ll help you shag the earl. What are cousins for? And I suppose they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else – and there aren’t that many titles above earl.’
She might not think I’m over him but there’s nothing to get over. We were never anything but sex.
‘Tell me what an earl’s girl is like,’ I say, moving the conversation along.
‘Not you, I’m afraid to say, lovely,’ she says frankly. ‘Nor I, so you’re in good company.’
‘Ah,’ I reply.
‘The interesting thing is that while our lot just have money because we do, being an earl is a whole thing,’ she explains. ‘Beau is – I forget – the right honourable sixteenth… or maybe seventeenth… earl of Wrancaster. Beau to his friends, Lord Cunningham to everyone else.’
‘So, you call him Lord Cunningham, not Earl Cunningham?’ I check.
‘Darling, I’ve never called him anything other than Beau or other unrelated four-letter words,’ she jokes. ‘But yes, he’s a lord. He owns an estate – and the most beautiful twenty-bedroom manor house. It makes Uncle Walt’s place look like a shack. He runs the estate which, really, is a real job. He owns thousands and thousands of acres, with residential properties and farms paying him rent, so he makes plenty of money; however, he isn’t fulfilling his obligations, as an earl, and that’s a no-no.’
‘How do you mean?’ I ask.
‘Well, these sorts of titles are hereditary, so the title and the estate go to the eldest male heir. Beau has no children, no partner, no prospects,’ she continues.
It’s a crying shame when you can be an actual earl, the owner of a huge estate that makes lots of money, and still be considered someone with ‘no prospects’.
‘He has no brothers, no uncles,’ she continues. ‘You’re supposed to have an heir and a spare, so the pressure on him to get married is humongous.’
‘But he must be inundated with offers?’ I reply.
‘Well, yes, but honestly, the pressure to choose the right kind of girl – he needs a lady, but someone he can live with, someone he can start a family with, who isn’t a gold digger. And of course, image is important. He has this PR person trying to make him relevant, but Beau says he would sooner remove the sword fromthe wall of the drawing room and impale himself before he’ll dance on TikTok.’
I laugh – a man after my own heart.
‘If he likes you, he likes you,’ Tiggy says sincerely. ‘You’ll soon be able to tell. But I’d curtsy, just in case.’
‘Oi, Lana.’ I hear Ethan’s voice from the back of the bus.
I turn to face him as he throws me something and my reflexes kick in just in time to catch it. It’s a pack of Tim Tam biscuits.
‘Aw, he brought snacks for the bus,’ Tiggy teases. ‘Adorable. What’s he going to do when you ride off into the sunset with Beau?’
‘He reckons he’s going to try and stop me,’ I say with a smile.
‘I think you want him to stop you,’ she tells me. ‘I think this is all to make him jealous.’
‘Tiggy, Beau is a handsome earl – a regular Prince Charming,’ I remind her. ‘Ethan is a Buttons kind of guy. Have you never read a fairy tale?’
