Christmas At Pemberley: And the Bride Wore Prada. Katie Oliver

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ so kindly vent your spleen at me, not my wife.’ He put his arm around Wren’s shoulders in a protective gesture.

      ‘You?’ Caitlin regarded him in outrage. ‘Why? How could you, Tark? How could you do that to me?’

      ‘You’ve been thrown out of university,’ he said evenly. ‘What else was I to do? Mum and Dad have a right to know. They’re paying your tuition, after all.’

      ‘How did you find out?’ she demanded. ‘I never said a word to you!’

      ‘I found out purely by accident when I went on the university website looking for information for a friend. Imagine my dismay when I discovered that the Christmas holidays don’t start until the end of next week. I made a discreet enquiry and learned you’d been expelled.’

      Caitlin glared at him, then turned and stormed away up the stairs. The sound of her door slamming echoed down to the hallway.

      Tarquin’s father let out a sigh and stepped forward, his hand outstretched to the newcomers.

      ‘It’s a poor welcome to Draemar you’ve had, to be sure,’ he said gruffly. ‘I do apologize for the drama. We’re normally a fairly tranquil lot. Archibald Campbell,’ he added as he shook their hands in turn, ‘the owner of this great pile of stone. Now, let’s all go into the drawing room to get acquainted and have a wee dram, shall we?’

      ‘I’d love to join you,’ Natalie demurred as his hand engulfed hers, ‘but I need to run up to my room for a few moments. If you’ll excuse me?’

      ‘Of course! We’ll see you at lunch, then, I hope?’ Archibald asked.

      ‘Oh, yes. I’ll find my husband Rhys and bring him along, as well.’

      ‘Splendid! I’ll look forward to it.’

      Natalie excused herself and made her way upstairs to the en suite bathroom she shared with Rhys. She was anxious to do the test before he returned.

      She had to know if she were pregnant or not.

      As she opened the test kit, she wondered where her husband had disappeared to. With a quick glance at the directions – how difficult was it to wee on a stick, after all? – Natalie did what needed to be done, then went into the bedroom to wait for the results.

      She prowled the room. She checked her email. She sat and stared out the window at the snow.

      It was the longest three minutes of her life.

      When she returned to the bathroom and reached out with an unsteady hand for the stick, she scarcely dared to breathe. She was almost afraid to look. Could it be? Could it possibly be?

      She turned it over; two thin blue lines met her gaze. Natalie stared at it, scarcely able to comprehend the enormity of what she saw. She was really pregnant, then. There could be no question.

      She left the bathroom and sank down on the end of the bed. There was no need to go and see Dr MacTavish; no need to schedule an appointment. She’d arrange to see an obstetrician just as soon as they returned to London.

      Natalie’s thoughts whirled. She’d need prenatal vitamins, and an examination, and she’d need to start shopping straight away for lots of adorable little baby things...

      ...but she’d have to tell Rhys, of course. He’d want to go along with her to see the doctor, she knew he would.

      First, she thought with a tiny flutter of uncertainty, she had to find her husband, and tell him that there could be no doubt.

      She was definitely, unquestionably pregnant.

       Chapter 16

      As everyone assembled in the dining room for luncheon, Natalie took the chair Rhys held out for her.

      She longed to tell him her news. But he’d only just walked in. Besides, she could hardly discuss something of such import with him in the middle of Draemar’s enormous dining room.

      ‘Where did you disappear to this morning, Rhys?’ she asked instead as she picked up her napkin and smoothed it over her lap.

      ‘I had a look around the castle.’ He took a sip of water and offered nothing further.

      ‘And what do you think of our wee castle, Mr Gordon?’ Archibald enquired. ‘Being that you’re a fellow Scotsman, I’m curious to know your opinion.’

      ‘I don’t know much about castles, I’m afraid. I grew up in a tower block in Edinburgh. It was nothing like this, I can assure you.’

      ‘That must’ve been difficult.’ Laird Campbell eyed him with interest. ‘Nevertheless...you made your way out of there and went on to become a highly regarded businessman.’ He raised his wine glass. ‘That’s a heroic accomplishment in my book.’

      ‘Thank you.’ Rhys took a sip of his wine and glanced around the table. ‘I found an interesting room during my explorations this morning, at the top of the west tower. There were books, and a desk, as well as some intriguing paraphernalia – Maori weapons, a didgeridoo, even a West African talking drum.’

      Tarquin glanced up. ‘That was my brother Andrew’s study, Mr Gordon,’ he said quietly.

      There was an awkward silence.

      ‘I see,’ Rhys murmured. ‘I apologize. I’d no idea. I shouldn’t have gone poking about like I did.’

      ‘Nonsense,’ Penelope Campbell reassured him, and smiled as the soup course arrived. ‘Andrew’s been gone for eighteen years, Mr Gordon. I keep meaning to clear his things away, but...’ her words trailed off. ‘I can’t quite bring myself to do it. By leaving everything exactly as it is, I can pretend that he might come back.’

      ‘Excuse me.’

      They looked up to see Colm standing in the doorway, flat cap in hand. ‘I’ve brought in your luggage and left it in the entrance hall, Laird Campbell,’ he said.

      ‘Good man. Come in,’ Archibald invited him.

      Helen sipped her wine and studied Colm over the rim of the glass as he took a couple of wary steps into the dining room. Although his face remained impassive, he looked a bit out of his element, like a thief at a policemen’s ball.

      ‘Join us for lunch, MacKenzie?’ Laird Campbell asked.

      ‘Thank you, no.’ Colm’s words were polite but firm. ‘I’ve work to be doing. If there’s nothing else?’

      ‘No, not a thing. Off you go, then, and thank you.’

      And as he left, striding past Laird Campbell on his way out, Helen was suddenly struck by the resemblance between Colm MacKenzie and his employer. They were roughly the same height and build, with the same dark-ginger hair; they even shared the same long Campbell nose.

      Why had she not noticed it before?

      Was the resemblance merely coincidence? Or was it, perhaps, something more?

СКАЧАТЬ