Hamish had really got his feet under the table (or Lavinia’s bed really). The young Scotsman cackled smugly:
“Snaffle! Snaffle! Och! I’ve really landed on me feet here! Lovely young bride, Go-er for a ma-in-law, nice hoose! Nae money but never mind, this will do until something better turns up…”
Unfortunately for the young scoundrel, Lord Posh heard every word…….
Immediately, he runs and tells the young Lavinia the Caledonian’s awful words:
The young nymph laughs: “Why, Poshie! You’re not jealous, are you? (titter)”
“‘pon my soul, you young filly! Of course not! But you must heed my warning about that so-called fiancee of yours!”
His patience at an ebb with the young doe, he seeks out Mary for consolation (and tells her not to put the cake in the washing machine!)
Despite her mocking of the old family friend’s warnings, Lavinia starts to have serious doubts about Hamish. How come he’s moved into her bed – without her? How come he spends so much time with Mama?
Meanwhile, at Marjorie’s piano recital that evening, Lord Posh brings his new filly, Krista. A corker of a girl from Sweden.
Marjorie leaves the room to “tuck Hamish in bed”, at least that’s what I thought she said.
And Lord Posh excused himself for a “drink of water” in the spare room with Mary. He’d be gone for hours.
My God, that man was a machine!