Olly covered his shock by hurrying over to offer Eleanor his arm, bowing awkwardly as he did so.

“You seem like a practical person,” she told him. “That is a most welcome change for this family.” She turned to me. “Close your mouth, Rebecca, you look like a trout. I told you I wanted to see a civilian wedding. It was very efficient. Far better without the priest up there doing all of that boring speechifying. Perhaps I’ll engage in a little Church of England reform.”

My mom shot me a look that said, Manners, Rebecca.

“Uh, everyone, this is…” I stammered.

“They know,” Eleanor said. “Please, no formalities. We’re all family today.”

“I need to call Father,” Nick said, mostly to himself, groping his pockets. “Where did I leave my bloody mobile?”

“Thank you for the support, Your…ma’am,” Lacey managed after we introduced Olly’s family, and they excused themselves from what had to be a surreal moment and made for the exit to gossip in peace about this development.

“You can thank me by giving my driver the address of the reception,” Eleanor said, “as Rebecca chose not to pass that along. I should like to buy those nice people a tequila on the rocks. Do you suppose they have that at the pub?”

“I clearly need to speak to your protection officers,” Nick said, hurrying over to a suit-clad man near the door.

“This is a bad idea,” I said to Eleanor, waving a stunned Lacey and Olly ahead of us. “Your doctors are going to kill you.”

“I’d like to see them try.” Eleanor tilted her chin high. “I suspect I am invincible.”

*  *  *

By the time we arrived at The Eagle, the pub was humming with a collection of Olly’s friends, some mutual pals he and Lacey had made in town, and several of his coworkers. Gaz, Cilla, Bea, and Gemma were clustered around the entrance discussing the latest episode of Cotswolds Coroner—in which a man was killed by a Peloton bike—and, as requested by Nick, mobilized as soon as they saw us to try to block the view of Eleanor’s entrance as much as possible. It was an impossible task, in part because Eleanor kept nudging them ever so slightly out of her way. The party quieted somewhat while the crowd parted and performed a series of wobbly curtsys and head bobs.

“No, no, do not stand on ceremony tonight,” Eleanor announced. “The bride is very special to me and I simply want to toast her. Consider the bar open.”

Everyone cheered, and a chorus of “God Save the Queen” broke out.

“The bar already was open,” Mom said.

Gaz and Nick had secured a corner booth, but Eleanor marched right past them and chose a table with a clear view of the entire party. Lacey hurried over with a large water.