he was horrified that the existence of his bastard, soz, lurve child had to be announced through, of all thing's, a *gossip mag.
wot dya expect from a *trolley dolly*, yer highness? a dignified closed-door business-like meeting??
duh.
* the letter b admits she used to read said gossip mag whenever she had her meal at delifrance. to improve her french, that is. but due to wee islanders' complaint's, it's been since replaced by dodgy local mag's.