“Thank Heaven, Lady Monica isn't Spanish.”
“Ah, but Spain's the fashion now. And you haven't heard all my news. Henri de la Mole says Lady Monica is asked to be a maid of honour for the young Queen of Spain, the one Englishwoman she's to have in attendance.”
“At least the wedding won't be till June. It's only the end of February now. I've got more than three months.”
“You haven't got one. Soon after the Princesses leave Biarritz, Lady Vale-Avon and Lady Monica are going to visit the old Duchess of Carmona in Spain.”
“What, they're going to Seville?”
“If her house is there. I'm telling you what I've been told.”
“The principal house of the Duke is in Seville, though he has a place near Granada, and a flat in Madrid as a substitute for a fine house that was burned down.”
“Then Seville's where they'll be. Anyhow, they're to see the great show in Holy Week there.”
It was as if Dick had suddenly drenched me with iced water.
For a few seconds I did not speak. Then I said, “Are you trying to break it to me that the match is arranged?”