Page 76 of My Big Fat Vampire Wedding
“Wow,” Victor said, shaking his head. “Are they all as … colourful as everyone here?” He glanced over at Dudley, who was feeding his cockatoo pieces of pasta out of his own mouth.
“I wish I could say not,” she said, wincing.
The sound of footsteps drawing near had her attention turning to the doorway.
Really, if she’d been given a thousand guesses as to who might be at the door, she still never would have landed on the right person.
Because right there, standing next to her father, was the woman whose eyes had followed Pandora around the sitting room her entire life.
It was her great-great-grandmother.
Ambrosia Von Ashmore.
She couldn’t exactly say that the quite youthful, stunning woman standing just a few yards away was her great-great-grandmother, now, could she?
But no one else seemed capable of coming up with a good lie on the fly either.
“Well, don’t you look just like your mother,” Ambrosia said, those haunting grey-blue eyes pinned on Pandora.
“I … Thank you,” Pandora said, not really seeing the resemblance herself, but knowing that was meant as a compliment. Even if Ambrosia’s cool tone didn’t suggest as much.
“Wait,” Victor said, brows scrunching as he looked at Ambrosia.
He’d seen the painting in the sitting room.
And there was a spark of recognition in his eyes.
“Aren’t you the woman from the painting?” he asked.
“There is no painting, young man,” Ambrosia said, her tone sending a shiver down Pandora’s spine. But not so much as the way her eyes seemed to glow as she spoke to Victor. Almost as if …
“No,” Pandora said, jumping out of her seat so quickly that her chair overturned, knocking onto the wood floor, making half the table jump.
“Whoa. That was fast,” Victor said, looking at her, seeming a little drunk.
Of course he did.
Her great-great-grandmother had justglamouredhim.
That was completely out of line.
“Pandora,” Ophelia said, her voice a hushed warning.
Sure, Pandora had been raised to respect her elders. And you literally couldn’t get any older than Ambrosia. But that didn’t mean she had the right to go around glamouring whoever she wanted. Especially Victor.
“Is there a problem?” Ambrosia asked, brows lifting, the picture of innocence, like she genuinely couldn’t understand what she’d done wrong.
Maybe that was the case. The last Pandora heard, Ambrosia lived in a castle in Scotland, far removed from society as a whole.
“No, no, of course not,” Ophelia said, gesturing toward an empty seat. “Would you care to join us?”
“I would like to speak to my grand—”
“To Pandora,” Ophelia butted in. “Of course. Of course. Pandora,” she added, her tone tight.
“I’ll be right back,” Pandora told Victor, then gave Lucy big eyes so she knew to keep an eye on things, before following her great-great-grandmother out of the dining room and into the sitting room.
“News got to me that you are to be married,” Ambrosia said as soon as they were alone.
