Читать книгу Maids Under The Mistletoe Collection - Christy McKellen - Страница 14
ОглавлениеTHE THOUGHT OF seeing Jack’s parents again fired adrenaline through Emma’s veins as she walked out of the room to get herself ready to face them.
It had been years since she’d had any contact with the marquess and marchioness. They’d been quick to cut ties with her family the moment the news of her father’s debts had broken, not even sending a card of condolence at his passing, and a little part of her hated them for that.
They’d known her quite well when she was a child, after all. She’d spent a lot of time at their house visiting Clare, but as soon as there was a hint of scandal attached to her she’d become persona non grata in their eyes.
And she was absolutely certain their opinion of her wasn’t going to change any time soon.
Not that she particularly cared what they thought about her any more.
Unfortunately though, their interference still had the potential to make things very difficult for her if they decided she was a threat to them and their family’s assets.
She was going to have to watch her back around them.
Shaking off the twinge of worry, she took a deep breath and went over to the phone in the hallway. She wouldn’t worry about that now. There were more important things to give headspace to before they left for Cambridge.
The first thing she needed to do was call her boss, Clio, and let her know what had happened last night at Jolyon’s house.
Clio picked up after a couple of rings and before she had a chance to say much, Emma launched into an abbreviated story of last night’s debacle, quickly filling her boss in on the state of her and Jack’s relationship and the complicated situation she found herself in now.
There was a pause on the line as Clio took a moment to digest all that Emma had told her before she spoke.
‘It sounds like you had quite a night, Emma. Are you okay?’
Her boss’s concern for her well-being above all else reminded Emma of why she loved working for her so much.
Even though she hadn’t expected Clio to be angry with her it was still a relief to actually hear that she wasn’t.
‘I’m okay. Sort of. I’m not quite sure how this is all going to play out, but there’s a good chance I won’t be available to work for at least a week or two.’
‘Don’t worry about that,’ Clio reassured her in soothing tones. ‘I’ll be able to find another job for you as soon as you’re ready, Emma. You’re one of my best girls; all the other clients you’ve worked for have sung your praises to me.’
Emma let out an involuntary sigh of relief. ‘That’s good to hear, Clio. Thank you.’
There was a pause on the line before her boss spoke again. ‘You know, Emma, if you ever need to talk you give me a ring, okay? I’m always here if you need a listening ear.’ She paused again. ‘I had a similar experience myself a few years ago so I understand what you’re going through.’
‘Really?’
Emma was shocked to hear this. Her boss seemed so together, so focussed on her business. It was comforting to hear that someone she respected and looked up to so much wasn’t infallible either.
‘Are you secretly married too?’ she asked tentatively.
Clio made a wryly amused sound in the back of her throat. ‘Unfortunately it’s not as straight forward as that.’
‘When are relationships ever straight forward?’ Emma said with a sigh.
‘A good point,’ Clio agreed.
There was a short pause. ‘Listen, Emma,’ Clio said carefully, ‘for what it’s worth, my advice is to keep in mind that just because the marriage wasn’t right for you then, it doesn’t mean it isn’t right for you now. Both of you have had a lot of time to grow and learn things about yourself since then. That’s worth considering.’
Emma’s first reaction was one of scepticism that Jack would be at all interested in a reconciliation based on his angry outburst last night, but maybe Clio had a point. Sure, they’d grown apart over the years, each finding their own way forwards, but neither of them had gone so far as to ask the other for a divorce. And surely he never would have lost his cool with Jolyon if he didn’t still care about her, at least in some small way?
Her heartbeat picked up as she cautiously entertained the idea of it. Even though he’d been standoffish around her since then, she couldn’t help but wonder whether the more time they spent together, the more chance there was she’d spot a chink in his armour.
That there might still be hope for them.
But she’d be a fool to get too excited about the idea of it. There was probably too much water under the bridge now for them to turn things around.
Wasn’t there?
‘Anyway,’ Clio said, breaking into her racing thoughts, ‘like I said, don’t worry about anything. Just let me know when you’re in a position to take on another job and I’ll make sure to find you something. In the meantime you take care of yourself, okay?’
‘I will, Clio. And thanks. I really appreciate the support.’
She became aware of an achy tension building at the back of her throat and she concluded the call quickly so that her boss wouldn’t hear the emotion in her voice.
She felt so confused all of a sudden.
After putting down the phone to Clio she took a moment to compose herself before calling Sophie, whose number she’d memorised because they’d worked so frequently together for the agency.
After giving her the same quick summary that she’d given Clio, she asked her friend to drop her missing bag and coat over to Jack’s house, as she couldn’t risk picking them up in person in case the press took more photos of her leaving.
Sophie’s mixture of earnest concern and soothing support nearly set Emma’s tears off again, but she managed to hold it together until they’d arranged how to get the missing items back to her.
Twenty minutes after she’d put the phone down to her friend there was a discreet knock at the back door where they’d agreed to rendezvous. Emma opened it to find Sophie waiting there with a look of worried anticipation on her face.
‘One handbag, one coat,’ Sophie said, holding the items up for her to grab as she dashed inside before any press noticed that she’d vaulted over the back wall and snuck through Jack’s garden to gain entry.
‘You’re a lifesaver,’ Emma said, giving her a tight hug.
‘Are you okay?’ Sophie asked, her voice muffled by Emma’s hair.
It took Emma a moment before she was able to let go of her friend—the comfort of the hug seemed to be releasing some of the straining tension in her—and they drew away from each other.
Emma nodded, tried to smile, failed, then shook her head. ‘Not really.’
‘You poor thing. What a mess,’ Sophie cooed.
‘I know, and it’s all of my own making. I should have contacted Jack before now...’ she sighed and tugged a hand through her hair ‘...but I never seemed to find the strength to do it.’
‘It must be a horrible thing to have to deal with. I don’t blame you one little bit for letting it slide.’
‘Well, there’s no sliding out of it now. We’re leaving to see his parents at their massive stately pile in Cambridgeshire in about ten minutes. I’ll certainly be facing the firing squad there. They’re very uptight about how their family is portrayed in the media and I’m not exactly the daughter-in-law they were hoping for.’
‘Emma, how can they not love you? You’re an amazing woman, kind, compassionate, smart. They’d be lucky to have you as part of their family.’
Emma managed to dredge up a droll smile. ‘Try telling Jack that.’
Sophie gave her a discerning look. ‘You still have feelings for him, don’t you?’
Emma sighed and rubbed a hand across her aching forehead. ‘To be honest I don’t know how I feel about him right now. He can be the most frustrating man in the world, but he does something to me on a visceral level, you know?’
‘I do,’ Sophie said, watching her with a worried frown. ‘You can’t help who you fall in love with.’
‘No.’
They were both silent for a moment, each of them lost in their own personal reverie.
‘Hey, do you have something knockout to wear to meet his parents?’ Sophie asked, breaking Emma out of her thoughts about how she was going to deal with spending more up-close-and-personal time with Jack when she was feeling so mixed up about him.
She glanced up at her friend. ‘Jack’s sister left some of her clothes here, which I can wear. They’re a bit casual for a meeting with a marquess and marchioness, but they’ll have to do. I haven’t got time to go home now. Not that I’ve got anything suitable there either.’
‘Okay, well in that case I’m glad I brought these with me.’ Sophie slipped the strap of a suit carrier off her shoulder and held it out towards her.
‘They’re dresses I’ve just finished sewing for a charity catwalk show. You’re so lovely and slim I think they’ll fit you perfectly.’
The kindness of the act brought tears straight to Emma’s eyes and she blinked hard, knowing that if she let as much as one of them fall she was a goner.
‘That’s so sweet of you, thanks,’ she said, pulling Sophie in for another hug and holding onto her tightly until she’d got herself under control.
After disentangling herself, Sophie smoothed down her hair and gave her a warm smile. ‘You’re welcome. Knock their socks off, Emma! And call me as soon as you can to let me know that you’re okay, all right. The girls and I were really worried about you when you disappeared like you did last night and they’ll want to know you’re in good hands.’
‘I will. And thanks again, you’re a good friend.’
‘My pleasure, sweetheart.’
Blowing her one final kiss, Sophie nipped out of the door and hared back off across the garden before the paps got a chance to get a good look at her.
Shutting the door firmly behind her friend, Emma smiled and took a deep fortifying breath, thanking her lucky stars for such good friends.
It was so good to know that she wasn’t completely on her own with this.
* * *
Jack was pacing the hall when Emma walked down the stairs to meet him looking a little pale, though still her poised, beautiful self. She was wearing a stunning dress, the structured soft grey material framing her curves in a way that made it impossible for him to drag his eyes away from her. There was something sharply stylish about the cut of it, even though the design was simple, giving the impression of confidence and effortless style. He had to hand it to her, she was a class act, even in the face of such a challenging situation.
In fact after what he’d witnessed in the last twenty-four hours it seemed he’d done her a disservice by assuming he’d have to handle the fallout from this all by himself. Instead of shying away from it, she’d stepped right up when it had become clear he needed her in this with him, and without one murmur of protest.
‘My friend Sophie loaned it to me,’ she said, following his gaze and fluttering her hands across the front of the dress. The strap of the handbag she was wearing over her shoulder slipped down her arm at the movement and dropped to the floor before she could catch it. As she bent down to pick it up something slipped out of the neck of her dress and flashed in the light as it twisted and swung around. He stared at the slim sliver chain. And the ring that was looped through it.
With a lurch of astonishment he realised he recognised it.
Her wedding ring.
She still wore it. Close to her heart.
Following his gaze, Emma looked down to see what he was staring at and when she realised what it was, she tried to stuff the necklace hastily back inside her dress again.
‘You still have it,’ he said, the words sounding broken and raw as he forced them past his throat.
‘Of course.’ She was frowning now and wouldn’t meet his eye.
‘Why—?’ He walked to where she was standing with her hand gripping her handbag so hard her knuckles were white.
‘I’m not very good at letting go of the past,’ she said, shrugging and tilting up her chin to look him straight in the eye, as if to dare him to challenge her about it. ‘I don’t have a lot left from my old life and I couldn’t bear to get rid of this ring. It reminds me of a happier time in my life. A simpler time, which I don’t want to forget about.’
She blinked hard and clenched her jaw together and it suddenly occurred to him that she was struggling with being around him as much as he was with her.
The atmosphere hung heavy and tense between them, with only the sound of their breathing breaking the silence.
His throat felt tight with tension and his pulse had picked up so he felt the heavy beat of it in his chest.
Why was it so important to him that she hadn’t completely eschewed their past?
He didn’t know, but it was.
Taking a step towards her, he slid his fingers under the thin silver chain around her neck, feeling the heat of her soft skin as he brushed the backs of his fingers over it, and drew the ring out of her dress again to look at it.
He remembered picking this out with her. They’d been so happy then, so full of excitement and love for each other.
He heard her ragged intake of breath as the chain slid against the back of her neck and looked up to see confusion in her eyes, and something else. Regret, perhaps, or sorrow for what they’d lost.
Something seemed to be tugging hard inside him, drawing him closer to her.
Her lips parted and he found he couldn’t drag his gaze away from her mouth. That beautiful, sensual mouth that used to haunt his dreams all those years ago.
A lifetime ago.
‘Jack?’ she murmured and he frowned and shut his eyes, taking a step away from her, letting go of the chain so that the ring thumped back against her chest, breaking the strange sensuous connection between them. This was crazy; he shouldn’t be giving in to his body’s primal urges, not with her. Not now.
It was too late for them. They were different people now. There was no point trying to rehash the past.
‘We should go,’ he said, giving her a reassuring smile, which faltered when he caught the look of pained confusion on her face. ‘We don’t want to be late.’
* * *
Jack had arranged for his driver to pull up right outside the house and he and Emma—who had hidden her face behind a pair of Clare’s old sunglasses and the brim of a baseball cap—practically sprinted to the car and flung themselves inside, determinedly ignoring the questions that were hurled at them from all sides.
Once safely in the back seat, Jack shouted for his driver to hit the gas and they left the pack of journalists behind them, scrambling for their own transport. Luckily his driver was able to shake them all off by taking a convoluted route through some back streets and when Jack checked behind them ten minutes later, there still wasn’t anyone obviously tailing them.
They sat quietly, not speaking for the first part of the journey, and Jack took the opportunity to check work emails and calls. After he’d satisfied himself that everything was running smoothly without him, he sat back and looked out of the window, finally allowing his mind to dwell on the situation with Emma again, his thoughts whirring relentlessly.
Something had been bothering him since the phone call with his father, and it suddenly struck him what it was.
They’d be fools to think that trying to get divorced quickly would make all their problems go away. The press would be far more interested in them if they suddenly announced they were splitting up after their marriage had only just become news. His father would be sure to drag Emma’s troubled past into the spotlight again, especially if he thought it would add weight to the Westwood’s side of the claim in the divorce settlement. The man was capable of doing whatever it took to protect the family’s estate.
He hated the idea of Emma having to go through the torture of being hounded by photographers again, having them hiding in her bushes and jumping out at the most inopportune moments. It would be incredibly stressful, especially if she had to cope with it on her own. At least when she was with him he could protect her from the majority of it, using the vast resources he had to hand.
The more he thought about it, the more an idea began to take shape in his mind. What if they stayed married, at least for the time being, and made out to the world that they were happy together? The press would soon grow bored with that—there wouldn’t be any conflict in the story to get excited about. His father would be forced to leave her alone too if she retained the Westwood name.
Surely they could deal with being around each other for a while longer, just until the interest in them had died down.
‘Emma?’
‘Hmm?’ She turned to look at him with an unfocussed gaze as if she too had been deep in thought.
‘What if we stayed married?’
Her gaze sharpened up pretty quickly at that.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean what if we pretend our marriage is solid? To everyone. Including our parents. That would give them time to get used to it and for the press interest in us to die down, then we could get divorced quietly and without anyone noticing in a few months’ time.’
‘A few months?’ she repeated, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard and was a little unnerved by it.
‘We’d only have to project a happy marriage in public—in private we could completely ignore each other if you like.’ He knew he sounded defensive, but her sceptical response had rattled him.
Surely they could get past any awkwardness about being around each other again if it meant they’d be left alone to deal with this mess in a private and dignified manner. On their terms.
She seemed to be mulling the idea over now that she’d got over the initial shock of his suggestion, and she turned to face him again with a small pinch in her brow.
‘You mean we’d live together in the same house?’
He took a breath. ‘Yes, I guess that would make sense. To make it seem plausible that we’re a happy couple, madly in love.’ He was aware of tension building in his throat as he talked. ‘You could move into my house. Just for those months. You’d be able to hide out there more easily than your flat and use my driver to get where you wanted to go.’
Turning away, she stared out of the window, her shoulders slightly hunched and her hands clasped in her lap.
‘Okay,’ she said so quietly he wasn’t sure if he’d heard her correctly.
‘Did you say okay?’
‘Yes.’ She swivelled to face him. ‘I said okay. It makes sense to do that.’ She paused to swallow, the look in her eyes a little circumspect. ‘Just to be clear, you are talking about just being housemates, nothing more?’
He clamped his jaw together and nodded. ‘Yes, that’s what I meant.’
They’d be fools not to keep things strictly platonic between them; it would only complicate things if they didn’t.
Sex hadn’t even been on his mind when he’d made the suggestion. He’d been more concerned with protecting her from the press and keeping his own family out of the limelight.
He was thinking about sex now though.
That dress she was wearing was doing something unnerving to his senses. It accentuated her body in all the right places, making his blood race and his skin prickle as an urge to run his hands down it and trace her soft curves with his fingertips tugged at him.
Giving a small cough to clear the sudden tension in his throat, he gripped the handle of the door more tightly.
‘I’m sure we can outwardly project the image that we’re madly in love if we try hard enough,’ she said quietly.
He twisted to look at her again, but she was staring out of the window again, her face turned away from him.
Sighing, he sat back in his seat and watched the countryside whizzing past, wondering exactly what they were letting themselves in for here.
* * *
The Westwood ducal estate was one of the most impressive in the country. Emma had heard that whenever the family opened their doors to the public, which wasn’t often, they were so inundated with eager visitors there was gridlock in the roads around the estate for miles.
She would have been excited to have been invited to visit here under less stressful conditions, but as it was her stomach rolled with nerves as Jack’s driver drove the car up the oak-tree-lined road to the front of the formidable-looking gothic stately home, with its geometric towers interspersed with harsh spires of grey stone, and came to halt in front of the grand entrance.
Jack’s suggestion that they live together for the next couple of months had both terrified and electrified her.
The tense standoff at the bottom of the stairs earlier when he’d discovered that she wore her wedding ring around her neck seemed to have changed something between them. In that moment when he’d lifted it from around her neck she’d thought for a second he was going to kiss her. Her whole body had responded on a primitive level, her blood rushing through her veins and heating her skin in anticipation of the feel of his mouth on hers again after all this time.
The scary thing was, she’d wanted him to. So much.
Because then she’d know once and for all whether there was any way they could rekindle what they’d once had.
But he’d pulled away from her and the moment had disintegrated around them, taking any hope she might have had with it.
Until he’d just made the suggestion that they stay married, at least for a little while longer.
She could see that he was coming at it from a practical point of view, but, even so, she didn’t think he would have suggested it if he didn’t still care about her, at least a little bit.
Jack got out of the car and walked round to her side, opening her door and holding out his hand to her.
‘Shall we?’ Jack asked, his voice tinged with tension. Hearing that he wasn’t entirely comfortable with being here either gave her that little bit of determination she needed to swing her legs out of the car, put her hand into his and stand up with a grace and dignity that she summoned from the depths of her soul.
They were in this together now.
He squeezed her fingers gently, as if hearing her thoughts, sending goose bumps rushing up her arm from where his warm skin made contact with hers.
‘Okay. Are you ready?’ he asked.
‘As I’ll ever be,’ she said, dredging up a tense smile for him.
‘Good. Remember, we’re the ones in control here, not them.’
She let out a nervous laugh. ‘If you say so.’
He nodded, his mouth twisting into a grim smile, and tugged gently on her hand, asking her to walk with him.
They’d barely made it halfway up the wide stone steps when the door was flung open and Jack’s mother appeared on the doorstep, her perfectly coiffed chignon wobbling a little in her haste to get to them.
‘Jack! Darling!’ She tripped nimbly down the steps to meet them, the pearls around her neck swinging merrily from side to side. ‘I’m so glad you’re here.’ Taking his face in her hands, she drew him towards her for a kiss on each cheek, then turned to Emma, giving her an assessing glance. ‘It’s good to see you again, Emma, dear.’ The wary expression in the marchioness’s eyes made Emma think she wasn’t being entirely truthful about the ‘good’ part.
‘Come on in, we’re all in the drawing room.’
All? Emma mouthed at Jack with a worried frown as his mother walked regally back up the steps, leaving them to follow in her wake.
Jack just shrugged, looking as confused as she felt.
Emma had never been in this house before. It had belonged to Jack and Clare’s grandfather when she’d known them and she’d never been invited here. It was a breathtakingly impressive seat, with wide corridors filled with ancient paintings and artwork, leaning heavily on gold and marble to propagate the ridiculous wealth of the family.
‘We’re just through here,’ the marchioness called over her shoulder, her voice sounding a little more strained now they were about to walk into what was bound to be the close equivalent of the Spanish Inquisition.
The room they walked into, with their hands still tightly entwined and their postures stiff, was positively cavernous, with a soaring ceiling painted with gaudy frescos of angels frolicking in the clouds. Emma held her breath, her eyes scanning the room quickly to take it all in before she was forced to concentrate solely on the people that sat stiffly on the sofas positioned around the grand gothic fireplace in the centre of the room.
Which was why it took her a good few seconds to realise that there was at least one other friendly face in the room.
‘Clare!’ she gasped, dropping Jack’s hand in her shock at seeing the woman she’d considered to be her best friend for most of the formative years of her life.
Clare stood up and walked towards them, her face breaking into a huge smile, a smile that flipped Emma’s stomach with the warm familiarity of it.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I happened to be visiting the olds and thought I’d stick around to greet my new sister-in-law. Or apparently not so new,’ her friend said, her lips twisting into a wry, quizzical smile.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ Emma said, burying her face in her friend’s curly auburn hair and breathing in the comfortingly floral scent of her. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she whispered fiercely into Clare’s ear, pulling back to look into her face so her friend could see just how sincerely she meant that.
‘I’ve missed you too, Em,’ Clare said, her eyes glinting with tears.
‘Well, Jack,’ Clare said, turning to give her brother the same perplexed smile, ‘you’ve pulled some crazy stunts in your life, but I never thought getting secretly married to my best friend would be one of them.’
Jack smiled at her with a pinch in his brow as if trying to figure out how best to frame his answer.
‘How—? I mean, when—?’ Clare shook her head and took a breath. ‘I mean how did I not know about this? I’m beginning to worry I’ve been abducted by aliens and had six years’ worth of memories erased or something.’
A lead weight of guilt dropped into Emma’s stomach.
Jack advanced towards his sister and pulled her into a tight hug before releasing her to look her in the eye.
‘I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, Clare. I feel terrible about keeping you in the dark all this time.’
Emma put her hand on Clare’s other shoulder. ‘I’m sorry too, sweetie. I should have told you when it happened, but I—’ She looked down at the floor and shook her head. ‘I guess I got a bit carried away with the romance of it all and I had no idea how to explain my feelings for Jack to you. To be honest, I was terrified you’d hate me for falling for your brother. The last thing I meant to do was hurt you.’
‘Yes, yes, this is all very touching, but I’d like to hear how this all came about,’ said a deep, penetrating voice from the corner of the room.
Emma turned to see Jack’s father, Charles Westwood, Marquess of Harmiston, advancing towards her.
‘Emma,’ he said, giving her a curt nod.
She wondered for a second whether he expected her to drop into a curtsey.
Well, he could expect all he wanted, there was no way she was going to pander to him.
‘My Lord,’ she said, keeping her chin up and her back straight. ‘Thank you for welcoming me here today. I can imagine how upsetting it must have been for you to hear about Jack and I being married the way you did, and I apologise for that.’
Something flickered in the man’s eyes, but his expression remained impassive.
‘Are you going to tell us why it’s been kept such a secret for all this time?’ he asked, his tone strident now.
Before she could speak, Jack stepped up next to her to address his father.
‘As I mentioned on the phone, we started a relationship when Emma was seventeen and I was twenty, but we decided to keep it quiet at the time because we wanted time to explore it without our families sticking their noses into our business.’
Jack let that hang in the air for a moment before continuing.
‘Then when I got the offer from the States to go and work out there I decided I wanted Emma to go with me and the easiest way to make that happen was for us to get married.’
His father raised a censorious eyebrow and looked as though he was about to say something, but Jack ignored him and carried on speaking.
‘Unfortunately Emma’s father passed away right after the wedding ceremony so it became impossible for her to follow me out there and I’m sad to say our relationship drifted after that. In retrospect we realise we weren’t emotionally mature enough at the time to make it work then.’
She felt his arm slide around her shoulders and forced herself to relax into his hold, as a woman who felt loved would, despite the awareness that Jack must be struggling not to add that he actually believed she’d abandoned him.
‘We’ve stayed in contact over the years and since I’ve been back in England we’ve decided to reconcile our marriage,’ Jack continued, still not looking at her. Even though he looked outwardly relaxed she would swear she could feel the underlying tension in his hold on her.
To her surprise, Clare moved quickly towards them and wrapped her arms around her and Jack, dragging them all into an awkward group hug.
‘Well, I couldn’t be happier for you both. Honestly. I always thought you’d make a great couple. You were always so sparky together. And now there’s definitive proof that I’m always right,’ Clare said, grinning at them both.
Emma forced herself to grin back, her scalp feeling hot and tight as her friend’s misplaced enthusiasm caused a stream of discomfort to trickle through her.
She pushed the feeling away. Now wasn’t the time to feel guilty about what they were doing.
‘Well, now that’s all straightened out I suppose we can relax a little,’ the marchioness said in a rather brusque voice.
Clearly she didn’t share Clare’s joy at the news that she now had a waitress with a tarnished reputation for a daughter-in-law for the foreseeable future.
Jack’s father didn’t say anything, just looked at them with a disconcerting smile playing about his lips, as if he suspected there was more to it than they were telling him.
Shrewd man.
And a dangerous one. Emma could see now why Jack had wanted them to show a united front. Judging by the look of cold distrust in the marquess’s eyes, Emma imagined the man would happily feed her to the wolves, given half a chance.
Well, at least it was over with now and they could go back to London without the fear of Jack’s parents interfering in their relationship.
A loud ring of the doorbell made them all start in surprise.
‘Ah, that will be Perdita,’ the marchioness said, rising from her chair.
A moment later a deathly pale woman with a shock of white-blonde hair and the palest eyes Emma had ever seen was shown into the room by a butler, followed by a man with a camera slung around his neck.
‘Perdita is our good friend and a journalist from Babbler magazine,’ Jack’s mother announced to them all with a cool smile. ‘She’s going to do a lovely feature for us showing how invested we all are in your marriage and how excited we are about welcoming you into your place in our family, Emma.’
