Page 19 of Marry Me…Maybe?
The countess dropped her gaze to the table. ‘Yes, Hugo died young. That’s why it’s so important for Theo to start thinking seriously about having children. He’s the only male heir left in the Berkeley family.’
‘I can understand why you’d be so upset at the thought of the family line ending. And for this place to be sold to someone outside the Berkeley lineage.’ She swept her hand to encompass the whole room. ‘It’s a beautiful house. In fact…’ She took a deep breath. ‘My best friend is getting married soon and she’s looking for a place to hold her wedding reception. This house would make a wonderful wedding venue.’
The countess gave Emily her characteristic narrow-eyed look. ‘Theo knows how I feel about hiring this house out for events.’ She spat the word out as if she found it distasteful.
A pulse beat hard in Emily’s temple as she fought the urge to give the woman a good old-fashioned telling-off and instead concentrated her energy on formulating her next tactical move. ‘Yes, of course. I totally understand that. But surely you wouldn’t mind us holding a reception here for a good friend of ours? Itwould be a very strict guest list, of course – only a few very special, very select people.’
Lady Berkeley gave her a hard stare, before finally saying, ‘I’ll think about it.’
Emily clapped her hands together, attempting to imply utter delight. ‘That would be wonderful of you.’ So, it was going to have to be a softly, softly approach, then. Her heart sank. She’d hoped to be able to win the woman over faster than this, but clearly that wasn’t going to happen.
An overwhelming sense of frustration threatened to drag her down, but she beat it back. So what if it was going to take a bit more effort to clinch the deal? She was game for it.
Time to redouble her efforts.
As they continued through the meal Emily finally found some common ground with Theo’s mother by chatting about going to the Cheltenham races each year, and they were able to discuss horses that they’d backed and even hats they’d worn. By the end of lunch, she almost had the woman eating out of her hand. At least, if not actually that, she’d come an awfully long way since that frosty greeting at the door.
She gauged that it probably wouldn’t be a good move to push the wedding venue issue again today though, in case she sounded too desperate. This whole situation called for some very delicate handling.
‘Well, I really ought to get back to London,’ she announced finally, placing her linen napkin on the table beside her empty dessert bowl.
‘You must come back and have supper with us on Thursday,’ the countess said, not bothering to clear it with Theo, who had opened his mouth at the suggestion, then closed it again as if he’d remembered he was meant to be sitting this one out.
Clearly, he’d been having real trouble keeping his opinions tohimself and his control under wraps, judging by the tension on his face.
‘That would be lovely, my lady,’ Emily said, producing what she felt must be a spectacularly sycophantic smile.
‘Oh, call me Francesca,’ Theo’s mother invited, her voice much warmer after their lunchtime natter.
Emily had to restrain herself from punching the air in triumph.
Francesca walked with Emily and Theo to the hallway, still talking about a horse she’d owned a few years ago.
‘It was lovely to meet you, Francesca,’ Emily said once they’d reached the front door.
‘Likewise.’ Francesca gave a regal nod. ‘I’ll let Theo see you out. I’m going for a rest,’ she said to him, sweeping off towards the stairs without a backward glance.
Theo couldn’t quite believe what he’d seen unfold before his very eyes.
Emily had somehow managed to charm his mother, and even though she hadn’t yet been successful in getting her to agree to allow her friend to hold her wedding at the house he didn’t think it would take too much more pushing before she did.
She was incredible.
She was also the most frustrating woman he’d ever met in his life. All her teasing, on top of his mother’s vicious jibes, had left his head and body buzzing with adrenaline.
His jaw was actually aching from biting his tongue so hard.
Bored with all the horse talk at dinner, he’d found himself trying not to let his wilful imagination run away with the notion of how good it would feel to strip Emily of those prim clothes and give her what she seemed so keen on getting from him. Therepeated contact of her wandering foot had kept him constantly aroused and on edge, until he’d felt as if he was buzzing with the strain of holding himself together. All he’d wanted to do was grab hold of her and drag her out of the room.
And then what?
That he didn’t want to think about.
‘I’ll walk you to your car,’ he said as they watched his mother mount the stairs on her way up for her afternoon nap.
‘Okay.’
She looked a little disappointed at being sent away, but he’d reached his limit of being around her.
