new arrivals. A waiter from the caterer relieved guests of their dripping raincoats and umbrellas in the front hall. It all felt very British to Coco, and she wished that she could FaceTime Sam so he could see the scene. It was a whole different atmosphere from their student milieu in New York. This was much more sophisticated and international than what she was used to in her college life, and she was grateful to have Nigel at her side. He gave her the lowdown on everyone, and he seemed to know them all. Whose father was a lord, who had a title, who was a nobody, who had a fantastic job, or a fabulous country house and gave house parties where people killed to be invited. How aristocratic their families were was very important to him, but he didn’t act like a snob. He just liked knowing about everyone and was curious about Coco.
“Great manor house, terrific food, no central heating, and no money, like most of us,” he described one couple. “The roof is going to cave in on them one of these days. The place leaks like a sieve,” he said of one of the houses where the owners gave the best parties, according to him. “Do you ride?” Coco nodded, slightly in awe of all of them, but surprisingly comfortable with him. She liked his openness and lack of pretension, and his good looks had caught her attention when she walked in. She’d noticed him staring at her until he walked over to meet her. She was flattered by his attention, and his description of people’s circumstances made her laugh. “So, what does your father do? Banker, lawyer, head of some vast American corporation, Wall Street genius, famous artist, or a mere mortal?” He was constantly playful, but interested in all the details to place where she fit into his world. Leslie seemed to have a very eclectic group of friends. Coco could tell that one was just as likely to meet someone with a title as a photographer with a heavy Cockney accent in her living room. It was fascinating. Nigel seemed to fit into the upper echelon of the scale, despite being a younger son, as he so easily confessed. He didn’t have the title or the money, but he clearly had the blue blood and noble heritage.
“My parents died last July, a year ago,” Coco said quietly in answer to what her father did. Nigel sobered for a minute, and gazed sympathetically at her.
“Oh, I’m sorry. How awful for you. Both at once?” She nodded. “It must have been an accident. Terrible bad luck. Do you have siblings?”
“No, I don’t,” she said softly, trying not to sound tragic about it, although it was. “Cannes, last July.” He knew instantly what that meant, and touched her hand gently, although he barely knew her. The kind gesture brought tears to her eyes. “We used to go to the South of France every year. I wasn’t with them last year. I had a summer job at Time. I didn’t go back to school last year because of it. I was thinking of starting again this September, but I’ll wait till January now. This is a wonderful change of scene after all that. It was a hard year.”
He nodded and then smiled at her. “Thank you for warning me. We’ll have to do our best to convince you to stay here. University is so boring, and we have much more fun here. Do you hunt?”
“I never have.”
“We can arrange that when the season starts. I have lots of friends who hunt. My brother is the master of the hunt in our region. But we don’t speak so we can’t go there. It’s great fun, if you like to ride. I usually avoid my brother at all cost. We hated each other growing up. I almost got over it, but then he inherited everything, and I can’t stand his greedy little pig-eyed wife,” Nigel said somewhat bitterly. Leslie pulled her away from him then, before Coco could comment, as they set their empty plates down and a waiter whisked them away. Nigel conceded with regret as Leslie removed her. “We can talk about my family some other time,” he said, as Coco followed Leslie.
“Don’t let Nigel monopolize you. He’ll talk your head off. He knows everyone in London. He has a complex about being a younger son, but he’s very sweet,” she said, smiling. Coco had