Not a Penny More Not a Penny Less Read online

  “Good evening, my lord,” said Mr. Mills, the club owner.

  “Good evening. I’m dining with Miss Summerton and I’ve had to leave my car double-parked. Can you take care of it?” said James, dropping the keys and a pound note into the doorman’s white-gloved hand.

  “Delighted, my lord. Show Lord Brigsley to the private rooms.”

  James followed the head porter up the red staircase and into a small Regency room where dinner had been laid for three. He could hear Anne’s voice in the next room. She came through, looking even more beautiful than usual in a floating mint-green dress.

  “Hello, darling. Come on, I want you to meet Daddy.”

  James followed Anne into the next room.

  “Daddy, this is James. James, this is my father.”

  James went red and then white, and then he felt green.

  “How are you, my boy. I’ve heard so much about you from Rosalie that I can’t wait to get acquainted.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “CALL ME HARVEY.”

  James stood aghast and speechless. Anne jumped into the silence.

  “Would you like a whiskey, James?”

  James found his voice with difficulty.

  “Thank you.”

  “I want to know all about you, young man,” continued Harvey, “what you get up to and why I’ve seen so little of my daughter in the past few weeks, though I think I can guess the answer to that.”

  James drank the whiskey in one gulp and Anne quickly refilled his glass.

  “You see so little of your daughter because I’m always modeling, which means that I’m very rarely in London.”

  “I know, Rosalie…”

  “James knows me as Anne, Daddy.”

  “We christened you Rosalie. It was a good enough name for your mother and me and it ought to be good enough for you.”

  “Daddy, whoever heard of a top European model calling herself Rosalie Metcalfe? All my friends know me as Anne Summerton.”

  “What do you think, James?”

  “I was beginning to think I didn’t know her at all,” replied James, recovering slowly. It was obvious that Harvey did not suspect a thing. He had not seen James face to face at the gallery, he had never seen him at Monte Carlo or Ascot, and James had looked ninety years of age at Oxford earlier in the day. He was beginning to believe he had got away with it. But how the hell could he tell the others at their Monday meeting that the final plan, his plan, would be to outwit not Harvey Metcalfe, but his future father-in-law?

  “Shall we go through to dinner?”

  Harvey did not wait for a reply. He marched on into the adjoining room.

  “Rosalie Metcalfe,” whispered James fiercely. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  Anne kissed him gently on the cheek.

  “You’re the first person who’s given me the chance to beat my father at anything. Can’t you forgive me?…I do love you…”

  “Come on, you two. Anyone would think you’d never met before.”

  Anne and James joined Harvey for dinner. James was amused by the sight of the shrimp cocktail and remembered how Stephen had regretted that touch at Harvey’s Magdalen dinner.

  “Well, James, I understand you and Anne have fixed a date for the wedding.”

  “Yes, sir, if it meets with your approval.”

  “Of course I approve. I was hoping Anne would marry Prince Charles after I’d won the King George and Elizabeth Stakes, but an earl will have to do for my only daughter.”

  They both laughed, neither of them thinking it was remotely funny.

  “I wish you’d come to Wimbledon this year, Rosalie. Imagine, me there on Ladies’ Day and the only company I had was a boring old Swiss banker.”

  Anne looked at James and grinned.

  The waiters cleared the table and wheeled in a trolley bearing a crown of lamb in immaculate cutlet frills, which Harvey studied with great interest.

  “Still,” said Harvey, chattering on, “it was thoughtful of you to ring me at Monte Carlo, my dear. I really thought I was going to die, you know. James, you wouldn’t have believed it. They removed a gallstone the size of a baseball from my stomach. Thank God, the operation was performed by one of the greatest surgeons in the world, Wiley Barker, the President’s surgeon. He saved my life.”

  Harvey promptly undid his shirt and revealed a 4-inch scar across his vast stomach.

  “What do you think of that, James?”

  “Remarkable.”

  “Daddy, really. We’re having dinner.”

  “Stop fussing, honey. It won’t be the first time James has seen a man’s stomach.”

  It’s not the first time I’ve seen that one, thought James.

  Harvey pushed his shirt back into his trousers and continued:

  “Anyway, it was really kind of you to phone me.” He leaned over and patted her hand. “I was a good boy too. I took your advice and kept that nice Doctor Barker on for another week in case any complications arose. Mind you, the price these doctors…”

  James dropped his wine glass. The claret covered the tablecloth with a red stain.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “You all right, James?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  James looked at Anne in silent outrage. Harvey was quite unperturbed.

  “Bring a fresh tablecloth and some more wine for Lord Brigsley.”

  The waiter opened a fresh bottle of claret and James decided it was his turn to have a little fun. Anne had been laughing at him for three months. Why shouldn’t he tease her a little, if Harvey gave him the chance? Harvey was still talking.

  “You a racing man, James?”

  “Yes, sir, and I was delighted by your victory in the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Stakes—for morereasons than you realize.”

  In the diversion caused by the waiters clearing the table, Anne whispered sotto voce:

  “Don’t try to be too clever, darling—he’s not as stupid as he sounds.”

  “Well, what do you think of her?”

  “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  “Rosalie.”

  “Magnificent. I put £5 each way on her.”

  “Yes, it was a great occasion for me and I was sorry you missed it, Rosalie, because you would have met the Queen and a nice guy from Oxford University called Professor Porter.”

  “Professor Porter?” inquired James, burying his face in his wine glass.

  “Yes, Professor Porter, James. Do you know him?”

  “No, sir, I can’t say I do, but didn’t he win a Nobel Prize?”

  “He sure did and he gave me a wonderful time at Oxford. I enjoyed myself so much I ended up presenting the university with a check for $250,000 to be used for research of some kind, so he should be happy.”

  “Daddy, you know you’re not meant to tell anybody about that.”

  “Sure, but James is family now.”

  “Why can’t you tell anyone else, sir?”

  “Well, it’s a long story, James, but it was quite an honor for me. You do understand this is highly confidential, but I was Professor Porter’s guest at Encaenia. I lunched at All Souls with Mr. Harry Macmillan, your dear old Prime Minister, and then I attended the Garden Party, and afterward I had a meeting with the Vice-Chancellor in his private rooms along with the Registrar and the Secretary of the University Chest. Were you at Oxford, James?”

  “Yes, sir. The House.”

  “The House?” queried Harvey.

  “Christ Church, sir.”

  “I’ll never understand Oxford.”

  “No, sir.”

  “You must call me Harvey. Well, as I was saying, we all met at the Clarendon and they stammered and stuttered and they were totally lost for words, except for one funny old guy, who was ninety if he was a day. The truth is that those people just don’t know how to approach millionaires for money, so I put them out of their embarrassment and took over. They’d have gone on all day about their beloved Oxford, so eventually