Читать книгу The Trouble With Emma - Katie Oliver - Страница 25

Chapter 15

Saturday morning found Emma in the kitchen, in desperate need of a cup of coffee.

Such a flurry of pie baking, scone making, and flour flinging went on as her father and Martine – who’d come in to help on her day off – prepared for tomorrow’s party, that Emma felt guilty as she reached for the coffee pot.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked Mr Bennet.

“Nothing,” he replied, cutting butter into his flour mixture with a grim expression, “unless you can bake a cake or make fondant.”

“You know very well I can’t do either.”

“Then you have your answer.” He glanced down at Elton, who would keep getting underfoot. “Charlotte’s not up yet; why don’t you take Elton for a walk? I’m sure he’d like that.”

At the word ‘walk’, the pug began to yap and chase himself in excitement.

“All right,” Emma agreed, and sighed. “Lord knows when Charli will decide to get up…just let me finish my coffee.”

Twenty minutes later she and Elton made their way across the field to Cleremont – slowly, because the dog stopped to investigate and sniff every rock, tree, and pile of horse manure along the way. But Emma didn’t mind. It was a lovely sunny day, and she was anxious to see Lizzy again.

Her thoughts wandered, as they sometimes did, to Jeremy North. She wondered what he was doing now. How strange it was, knowing they’d be married now if things had turned out differently. She’d be Mrs Emma North and they’d live in London.

Would they have been happy? Was remaining single a mistake?

No, she decided, and tugged on the lead to pull Elton away from the brambles. She was perfectly happy. It was true she missed her sisters…even Charli. The house was too quiet by half with only her and daddy remaining at home.

But who’d look after him if she left?

The thought troubled her. While Mr Bennet was in the pink of health in most regards, he was no longer a young man. His knees troubled him and he tired more easily; she often found him sleeping in his study, slumped back against the chair and snoring softly.

Perhaps instead of fixing Litchfield Manor up, she should persuade him to sell it, and move into something smaller and easier to manage – a flat, for instance.

Even as the thought occurred she dismissed it. He’d never give up his home, and he wouldn’t leave until, as he often declared, ‘I go out in a box.’

Besides, it was too late to change her mind now – Simon Fox and Jacquetta Winspear of Mind Your Manors would arrive on Tuesday to have their first look round the house and property. The television wheels were in motion.

Which meant, Emma realised with sudden dismay, that as a writer and associate producer, Mark Knightley would surely be spending time at Litchfield Manor as well.

“Come along, Elton,” she said now, sharply. “We’ve a ways to go to reach Cleremont. Chop chop!”

He trotted obediently alongside her as she strode towards the Darcys’ stately home, its chimneys rising against the distant sky like sentinels.