Maids Under The Mistletoe Collection. Christy McKellenЧитать онлайн книгу.
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.’