Page 17 of Marry Me…Maybe?
‘I’m not sure “charmed” is the word I’d use,’ he replied, squeezing her hand back a little harder than was absolutely necessary, making her blood pulse through her body in the most disconcerting way.
‘Says the man who refers to getting married as “future nuptials and the furthering of the family line”,’ Emily countered, flashing him a grin and digging her nails into the back of his hand in response to his jibe.
He made his mouth smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
‘So, the two of you have talked about getting married?’ the dowager asked, surprise clear in her voice.
‘We’re both open to the idea – aren’t we, darling?’ Emily said, feeling Theo stiffen beside her.
‘Yes,’ he said, shooting her a warning glare that thankfully his mother didn’t pick up on.
‘Well, at least you’ve got him to talk about the possibility of marriage. No other woman ever has,’ Lady Berkeley said curtly. ‘Shall we go through to the drawing room for pre-lunch drinks? The staff finally seem to be doing their jobs properly now I’ve had a word with them.’
Without waiting for a reply his mother swept out of the hallway and into the drawing room, leaving them to follow in her wake.
‘Why on earth did you let her think an engagement was imminent?’ Theo whispered, pulling Emily to a stop before the doorway and dropping her hand.
‘I didn’t feel I had much choice. She needed more convincing. The most important thing is to get her to take me seriously first – then, once I’ve got her on side, I’ll use the full force of my charm on her.’
Theo threw up his hands in frustration. ‘Heaven help us all if it comes to a showdown between you and my mother.’
‘What? You don’t think I could take her?’ Emily pretended to square up to him.
‘Oh, I’m sure you’d put up a good fight, but my mother’s a tiger.’
‘Then I shall have to sharpen my claws,’ she said with a smile. ‘Look, just let me lead the conversation and keep out of it asmuch as possible. Don’t rise to anything she says. Can you do that?’
‘Yes,’ he said through gritted teeth.
She nodded and turned her back on him, walking off through the doorway that the dowager Countess had disappeared through, trying not to let his delicious citrusy scent distract her from the task at hand.
Lady Berkeley had already rung for the housekeeper to come and serve them drinks and had made herself comfortable on one of the sofas when they joined her.
Following her lead, Emily asked for a gin and tonic. Theo declined a drink, leaning back on the sofa opposite his mother with his arm resting along the back. His body language was dominant, but detached. Emily perched next to him and pinched her knees together primly, smoothing down her skirt and making sure she wasn’t showing too much leg. She was so acutely aware of Theo, right there next to her, that she worried for a second that it might affect her concentration.
Buck up, Em.
When she glanced up Lady Berkeley was giving her another coolly assessing look.
‘You know, you seem very familiar,’ the woman said, narrowing her eyes.
‘That’s because I’m on TV. I’m the host ofTreasure Trail?—’
The countess flapped a dismissive hand in the air. ‘No, that’s not it. I don’t watch trash on television. I have better things to do with my time.’
Emily couldn’t help but turn to Theo and murmur, ‘You really are your mother’s son.’
He scowled back at her.
‘What did you say your surname was?’ The countess asked.
A slow trickle of discomfort ran down Emily’s spine. There wassomething in the woman’s face that made her nervous – as if she was running through a database in her mind of all the undesirables she’d logged there. ‘I didn’t.’
Theo’s mother sighed, as if she was fed up with dealing with a recalcitrant child. ‘Are you hiding your roots from me deliberately?’
Emily bristled. ‘No, of course not.’
Although, actually, she kind of was.
