‘Where will you be at nine a.m. on Monday the seventeenth?’
‘Where you’ll find me at nine o’clock every morning, keeping an eye on the two thousand jars of fish paste as they come off the line every hour. But where would you like me to be?’
‘Close to a phone, because I’ll be calling to advise you to make a substantial investment in a shipping company.’
‘So your little plan is falling into place.’
‘Not quite yet,’ replied Cedric. ‘There’s still some fine-tuning to be done, and even then I’ll need to get my timing spot on.’
‘If you do, will Lady Virginia be angry?’
‘She’ll be absolutely livid, my darling.’
Bingham laughed. ‘Then I’ll be standing by the phone at one minute to nine on Monday,’ he checked his diary, ‘the seventeenth of August.’
‘Did you pick the cheapest thing on the menu because I’m paying the bill?’
‘No, of course not,’ said Sebastian. ‘Tomato soup and a lettuce leaf have always been my favourites.’
‘Then let me try and guess what your second favourites might be,’ said Samantha, looking up at the waiter. ‘We’ll both have the San Daniele with melon followed by two steaks.’
‘How would you like your steak, madam?’
‘Medium rare, please.’
‘And you, sir?’
‘How would I like my steak done, madam?’ Sebastian mimicked, smiling across at her.
‘He’s also medium rare.’
‘So—’
‘How—’
‘No, you first,’ she said.
‘So what brings an American girl to London?’
‘My father’s in the diplomatic service, and he’s recently been posted here, so I thought it would be fun to spend a year in London.’
‘And your mother, what does she do, Samantha?’
‘Sam, everyone except my mother calls me Sam. My father was hoping for a boy.’
‘Well, he failed spectacularly.’
‘You’re such a flirt.’
‘And your mother?’ Sebastian repeated.
‘She’s old-fashioned, just takes care of my father.’
‘I’m looking for someone like that.’
‘I wish you luck.’
‘Why an art gallery?’
‘I studied art history at Georgetown, and then decided to take a year off.’
‘So what do you plan to do next?’
‘I start work on my PhD in September.’
‘What’s the subject going to be?’
‘Rubens: Artist or Diplomat?’
‘Wasn’t he both?’
‘You’re going to have to wait a couple of years to find out.’
‘Which university?’ said Sebastian, hoping she wouldn’t be returning to America in a few weeks’ time.
‘London or Princeton. I’ve been offered a place at both but haven’t made my mind up yet. And you?’
‘I haven’t been offered a place at either.’
‘No, stupid, what do you do?’
‘I joined the bank after taking a year off,’ he said as the waiter returned and placed two plates of ham and melon in front of them.
‘So you didn’t go to university?’
‘It’s a long story,’ said Sebastian. ‘Another time perhaps,’ he added as he waited for her to pick up her knife and fork.
‘Ah, so you’re confident there’ll be another time.’
‘Absolutely. I’ve got to come in to the gallery on Thursday to pick up Jess’s paintings, and the following Monday you’ve invited me to the opening of the unknown gentleman’s art collection. Or do we now know who he is?’
‘No, only Mr Agnew knows that. All I can tell you is that he’s not coming to the opening.’
‘He clearly doesn’t want anyone to find out who he is.’
‘Or where he is,’ said Sam. ‘We can’t even contact him to let him know how the opening went, because he’ll be away for a few days, shooting in Scotland.’
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ said Sebastian, as their empty plates were whisked away.
‘So what does your father do?’
‘He’s a storyteller.’
‘Aren’t most men?’
‘Yes, but he gets paid for it.’
‘Then he must be very successful.’
‘Number one on the New York Times bestseller list,’ said Sebastian proudly.
‘Harry Clifton, of course!’
‘You’ve read my father’s books?’
‘No, I must confess I haven’t, but my mother devours them. In fact, I gave her William Warwick and the Double-edged Sword for Christmas,’ she said as two steaks were placed in front of them. ‘Damn,’ she added. ‘I forgot to order any wine.’
‘Water is just fine,’ said Sebastian.
Sam ignored him. ‘Half a bottle of Fleurie,’ she said to the waiter.
‘You’re so bossy.’
‘Why is a woman always described as bossy, when if a man did the same thing he’d be thought of as decisive, commanding, and displaying qualities of leadership?’
‘You’re a feminist!’
‘And why shouldn’t I be,’ said Samantha, ‘after what you lot have been up to for the past thousand years?’
‘Have you ever read The Taming of the Shrew?’ asked Seb with a grin.
‘Written by a man four hundred years ago, when a woman wasn’t even allowed to play the lead. And if Kate were alive today she’d probably be prime minister.’
Sebastian burst out laughing. ‘You should meet my mother, Samantha. She’s every bit as bossy, sorry, decisive, as you.’
‘I told you, only my mother ever calls me Samantha, and my father when he’s cross with me.’
‘I already like your mother.’
‘And your mother?’
‘I adore my mother.’
‘No, silly, what does she do?’
‘She works for a shipping company.’
‘Sounds interesting. What kind of work?’
‘She works in the chairman’s office,’ he said as Samantha tasted the wine.
‘Just what he wanted,’ she told the waiter, who poured two glasses. She raised hers. ‘What do the English say?’
‘Cheers,’ said Sebastian. ‘And the Americans?’
‘Here’s looking at you, kid.’
‘If that was meant to be a Humphrey Bogart impression, it was dreadful.’
‘So tell me about Jessica. Was it always obvious how talented she was?’
‘No, not really, because to begin with, there wasn’t anyone to compare her with. Well, not until she got to the Slade.’
‘I don’t think that changed even then,’ said Sam.
‘Have you always been interested in art?’
‘I started out wanting to be an artist, but the gods decided otherwise. Did you always want to be a banker?’
‘No. I’d planned to go into the diplomatic corps like your father, but it didn’t work out.’
The waiter returned to their table. ‘Would you care for a dessert, madam?’ he asked as he picked up their empty plates.
‘No, thank you,’ said Sebastian. ‘She can’t afford it.’
‘But I just might like—’
‘She just might like the bill,’ said Sebastian.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Now who’s being bossy?’ said Samantha.
‘Don’t you think conversations on first dates are weird?’
‘Is this a first date?’
‘I hope so,’ said Sebastian, wondering if he dared to touch her hand.
Samantha gave him such a warm smile that he felt confident enough to say, ‘Can I ask you a personal question?’
‘Yes, of course, Seb.’
‘Do you have a boyfriend?’
‘Yes I do,’ she replied, sounding rather serious.
Sebastian couldn’t hide his disappointment. ‘Tell me about him,’ he managed, as the waiter returned with the bill.
‘He’s coming into the gallery on Thursday to pick up some pictures, and I’ve invited him to attend the opening of Mr Mystery Man’s exhibition the following Monday. By then, I’m rather hoping,’ she said as she checked the bill, ‘he’ll have enough in his bank account to take me out to dinner.’
Sebastian blushed as she handed the waiter two pounds and said, ‘Keep the change.’
‘This is a first for me,’ admitted Sebastian.
Samantha smiled, leant across the table and took his hand. ‘Me too.’