Inside the grand, marble-lined interior of the bank, John and Marguerite were ushered into a private office where Mr. Henshaw, the bank manager, awaited them. The room was filled with the quiet hum of professionalism, the walls lined with polished wood and shelves of financial ledgers.
As they sat, Mr. Henshaw greeted them with a respectful nod. "Lord and Lady Avebury, it's a pleasure to assist you today," he began, his tone both warm and efficient.
John, meanwhile, was going through a folder of Marguerite's financial documents. His eyes widened in amazement as he flipped through the papers, noting the multitude of accounts spread across various countries and under numerous aliases.
"My God, Marguerite. What have you been doing in your life?" he asked, a mix of awe and curiosity in his voice.
Marguerite glanced at him, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. "One day, I'll tell you everything," she promised, her tone light but sincere.
Mr. Henshaw cleared his throat, bringing their attention back to the matter at hand. "Shall we proceed with the consolidation of your accounts, Lady Roxton?" he inquired, his demeanor professional yet courteous.
"Yes, Mr. Henshaw. That's why we're here," Marguerite replied, turning her attention to the bank manager. "I want all my assets consolidated under my current name, and any necessary paperwork updated."
Mr. Henshaw nodded, his fingers poised over his keyboard. "Of course, Lady Avebury. I assure you, your financial affairs will be handled with the utmost discretion and efficiency. We've already begun the process of consolidating your accounts and transferring funds. The complexities of multiple international accounts do require some time, but rest assured, everything will be streamlined and transparent for your convenience."
John listened, his respect for Marguerite's past acumen growing. He realized that her life before becoming his wife was filled with adventures and dealings that he could only begin to fathom.
Mr. Henshaw continued, detailing the next steps and confirming certain details with Marguerite. Throughout the meeting, Marguerite responded with confidence and clarity, showcasing her deep understanding of financial matters.
As the meeting concluded, Mr. Henshaw stood, extending his hand. "It's been a pleasure, Lady Avebury, Lord Avebury. Should you require any further assistance, please do not hesitate to contact me."
John and Marguerite thanked Mr. Henshaw and left the office, their steps echoing softly on the marble floor. As they exited the bank, John looked at Marguerite with newfound admiration.
"Marguerite, I always knew you had an extraordinary life, but today has shown me just how much," he said, his voice filled with respect and love.
Marguerite took his arm, leaning into him with affection. "All this talk about finance has made me rather hungry," she said, her tone light and teasing.
John chuckled, the weight of their recent financial discussions momentarily lifted by her remark. "Well, then, let's find somewhere to eat. Any preferences?" he asked, ready to indulge in a pleasant lunch with his wife.
Marguerite thought for a moment, then smiled. "How about Savoy Grill?"
"Sounds perfect," John agreed, as they began to walk towards the hotel, their steps synchronized, a couple at ease in each other's company.
As they approached the elegant façade of the Savoy Hotel, the doorman greeted them with a respectful nod, ushering them into the grandeur of the establishment. Inside, the Savoy Grill welcomed them with its opulent decor, the clink of fine china and the murmur of sophisticated conversations creating an atmosphere of refined indulgence.
"Shall we indulge in a classic British lunch?" John suggested, perusing the menu with interest.
Marguerite smiled, pleased with the choice of venue. "That sounds delightful. Perhaps some Dover sole and a Waldorf salad to start?" she proposed, her eyes reflecting the elegance of their surroundings.
As they dined, they enjoyed the impeccable service and the exquisite flavors of their meal, the Savoy Grill providing the perfect setting for them to unwind and enjoy their time together away from the responsibilities of the estate.
As they enjoyed the exquisite cuisine, Marguerite glanced across the table at Roxton, her eyes reflecting the soft light. "John, do you think William is doing alright? This is the first time we've left him for more than a few hours."
John, looking up from his plate, met her gaze with a gentle smile. "He's in good hands. Nanny Clara is wonderful with him. And it's important for us to have these moments together, just the two of us."
Marguerite's expression softened as she clasped his hand. "You're right, of course. It's just... everything feels so different now, more complete with William in our lives. But I do cherish these quiet moments with you."
Observing the patrons around them, Marguerite changed the topic and said. "It's remarkable, isn't it? How the city pulses with change. After all the hardship of the war, there's a sense of... renewal."
John, his eyes scanning the grand room, nodded in agreement. "Indeed. It's like the entire country is eager to leave the past behind and leap forward. You see it in the arts, in fashion, even in the way people speak about the future."
"The Roaring Twenties, they're calling it," Marguerite mused, a hint of amusement in her voice. "A fitting name, I suppose. Everything feels more vibrant, more daring. Just look at the fashions around us. Hemlines rising, the bobbed hair... it's a revolution of sorts."
"Speaking of hair... I hope you don't mind me saying, but I've grown rather fond of your long, black curls. They're a part of you I've come to adore."
Marguerite, taken aback slightly by his sudden earnestness, smiled softly, a playful sparkle in her eyes. "John, are you saying you wouldn't like it if I decided to embrace the fashion of the times and cut my hair short?"
"It's not that. You would look stunning in any style, of that I have no doubt," he said earnestly. "But your long hair... It reminds me of so many moments, so many adventures, on the Plateau. It's part of the incredible woman I fell in love with."
Marguerite's smile broadened, touched by his words. "Well, then, I suppose I can forgo the allure of the bob for now. Besides," she added with a twinkle in her eye, "I rather like the drama of my curls myself. They've become a part of my identity, in a way."
After their delightful evening at the Savoy Grill, Marguerite and John, feeling slightly light-headed from the wine and enamored by the beauty of the night, chose to walk home, hand in hand, through the vibrant streets of London.
Upon arriving at their London home, the Roxtons found a letter waiting for Marguerite. She opened it with a mix of curiosity and anticipation. It was from her former business partner, Ahmed Khalid, affectionately known as Ali, an Egyptian millionaire with a reputation for his kind nature and warm, Muslim hospitality.
Marguerite read the contents of the letter.
My dear Marguerite,
I trust this letter finds you in good health and high spirits.
I am writing to extend a personal invitation to an event that I believe will greatly benefit from your unique talents and esteemed presence. I am hosting a private auction in London, an affair that promises to be both exclusive and memorable, attended by a select group of distinguished guests and influential figures.
Your expertise in the world of auctions is unparalleled, and I would be deeply honored if you would grace us with your presence as the leading auctioneer of the evening. Your charisma and skill in this realm are renowned, and I am confident that you will add a touch of elegance and excitement to the proceedings.
Moreover, it would be a pleasure to see you and Lord John Roxton at this event. His reputation as an adventurer and a man of distinction precedes him, and I am certain that his company would enhance the evening.
Please do consider this invitation as a token of my highest regard and esteem for you. I look forward to the possibility of reconnecting and to what I anticipate will be an enchanting evening.
Kindly let me know at your earliest convenience if you are able to join us.
Warm regards,
Ahmed Khalid - Ali
Roxton, listening intently, raised an eyebrow. "A private auction, led by you? That does sound intriguing."
Marguerite pondered for a moment, recalling her past interactions with Ali. "Ali is a good man, short in stature but large in heart. Unlike Dominic Archer, who always had a shadow of shadiness about him, Ali has always been straightforward and fair in his dealings. He's the kind of person who makes you feel at ease, despite his immense wealth. What do you think, should we go?"
"I must admit, the idea of seeing you in your element, leading an auction, does intrigue me," he said thoughtfully. "I am always eager to read a chapter or two of your life before we met."
Marguerite's eyes lit up at the idea. "Then it's settled. We'll attend Ali's auction. It'll be a night of elegance and excitement. And who knows, it might be quite refreshing to step into my old world, even if just for an evening."
With that, they retired to their room, the prospect of attending the auction adding an element of anticipation to their stay in London. The Roxtons, ever ready for adventure, whether in the wilds of the unknown or the refined halls of high society, prepared themselves for yet another exciting experience in their extraordinary lives.