And the Bride Wore Prada (9 page)

‘Have you chosen anyone yet?’

She nodded and tossed the magazine aside. ‘Natalie, of course,’ she said as she ticked the names off on her fingers, ‘and Wren, my half-sister Petra – not that I think she’ll do it ‒ my bezzie mate Sam, and Cara.’

‘Wren? You only just met her. And that’s only five,’ Dominic pointed out, and frowned. ‘I thought you wanted at least six.’

‘I do.’ She pouted. ‘But Lucy can’t make it as she’s already committed to be a bridesmaid for Sarah’s destination wedding in St Barts, so I’ll just have to ask someone else.’

‘Yeah, right,’ Dom mumbled, and suppressed a yawn. He wondered if he couldn’t sneak off to the screening room for a bit and see what was on offer on Sky...

‘...so I think I’ll ask Caitlin instead.’

Dominic blinked. ‘Caitlin
Campbell
? Tark’s sister?’

She raised her brow. ‘Why not?’

‘You hardly know her, for starters. And from what I’ve seen of her so far,’ he added darkly, ‘I don’t think I much
want
to know her.’

‘Oh, she’s actually quite nice,’ Gemma said airily, and picked up her mobile phone. ‘We had a lovely chat yesterday evening. She really
is
nursing a broken heart, you know.’

Dominic couldn’t imagine the red-haired ball-breaker having anything approximating a heart in the first place, but he wisely kept his opinions to himself. ‘Really? And what poor bloke did she tangle with?’

‘An older man, apparently. Very dashing, she said, and wealthy. But he turned out to be a complete shit. Caitlin says he used her and tossed her aside like a crumpled tissue.’

‘Imagine that.’ Privately Dom thought it must’ve been the other way round, but he said nothing.

It didn’t matter, at any rate, he noticed with a flicker of irritation, as Gemma wasn’t listening, anyway.

She was far too busy posting updates about her upcoming wedding and her silk, hand-beaded Prada gown to notice much of
any
thing where he was concerned.

‘Pregnant,’ Rhys muttered after he’d shown the doctor out, and went into the library to pour himself a stiff drink.

‘What’s that, old boy?’ Tarquin asked affably as he entered the library in search of a good book.

Rhys looked up, startled. ‘What? Oh, nothing. Just...thinking out loud.’

‘I understand Doctor MacTavish was here earlier to see Natalie,’ he added. ‘I do hope she’s all right?’

‘Yes. Yes, she’s fine.’

‘Glad to hear it. Any idea what was wrong?’

‘He seemed to think it was a...reaction to something she ate. Prawns, possibly.’ Rhys disliked lying to their host; but until they could be certain, there was no point in saying anything. Besides, it wasn’t something he felt ready to share, just yet.

He needed to come to grips with the news himself, first.

When Natalie awoke the next morning, Rhys was already up and gone. She rolled on her back and stared up at the ceiling with her thoughts in a tangle.

So I’m pregnant, possibly...yet how could that be? I’ve taken my pill every day without fail. And those pills are 99.09 percent accurate, aren’t they?

Natalie sighed. It was that .01 percent that always got you...

She pushed the covers aside and got up. Her handbag sat on the armchair where she’d tossed it yesterday; she riffled through it now until she found her pill case and took out the instruction sheet tucked under the lid. With a frown, she skimmed it.

‘...pill must be taken at the same time every day...’

Well, I’ve done that
! she thought indignantly.

‘…if a pill is missed, take two pills the following day…’

Well, I’ve done that, too, once or twice
, she admitted.

‘...be advised that allergy medications may negate or lessen the effectiveness of the pill...’

Natalie stared at the words on the folded sheet of paper in her hands with dawning dismay.

Her allergies! Of course, that explained it. She’d taken a couple of allergy pills on the way here to Scotland to curb her sneezing fits. She lowered the bit of paper in her hands and bit her lip in consternation.

On the one hand, she was thrilled – elated! – to be pregnant. She’d longed for a baby of her own ever since she’d held her sister Caro’s little girl in her arms and smelt her sweet, baby scent. She couldn’t wait to do up the nursery and shop for strollers and cribs, and some of those darling little baby shoes and outfits...

On the
other
hand...there was Rhys to consider.

He hadn’t said much last night after Dr MacTavish left them – in fact, he hadn’t said
any
thing apart from ‘goodnight’ and ‘we’ll talk about this in the morning’. But he’d looked decidedly shell-shocked as he’d got into bed.

Now he was gone off God-knew-where in this enormous castle, and she didn’t know quite what to do.

Natalie frowned. She couldn’t share her happy news with anyone just yet; it wasn’t certain, after all. The doctor had said most emphatically that he’d need to run a urine test first.

She brightened. That was it! All she needed was one of those at-home pregnancy test kits, and she could have a wee on the stick, and find out for herself whether she was really pregnant or not. She was beyond anxious to know if she was to be a mother.

She wanted to know the answer
now
.

Without wasting another moment, Natalie rummaged through the drawers and flung on a pair of jeans and a jumper and thrust her feet into a pair of wellies. Then she grabbed her handbag and headed out the door.

Chapter 15

As Natalie hurried down the hallway towards the stairs, Helen’s door opened.

‘Oh – hello,’ Natalie said, pausing in mid-flight to take in the other woman’s coat and boots. ‘Where are you off to this morning?’

Helen slid the strap of her purse over her shoulder. ‘I’m meeting the tow truck driver. He’s taking me – and my late, lamented hire car – into the village.’

‘I see,’ Nat said, disappointed. ‘Then I don’t expect you’d have room for one more.’

‘Did you need to go into Loch Draemar?’

‘Yes. Rhys has disappeared, and I need to buy,’ she paused ‘something, erm, personal...from the chemist’s.’

Helen smiled. ‘I quite understand. I’m sure we can make room for one more in the truck’s cab.’

Colm was waiting downstairs as they descended the stairs. ‘I’ve come to take you into the village, Miss Thomas.’

‘But...I arranged to ride along with the tow truck driver,’ Helen told him, puzzled. ‘He said I might. So there’s really no need for you to take me. Us,’ she amended as she glanced over at Natalie.

‘Well, you haven’t much choice, I’m afraid,’ Colm informed her. ‘Your car’s already been towed away. Now, ladies, if you don’t mind,’ he added brusquely as he reached for the door, ‘I’ve things to be doing. Let’s go.’

And so it was that Natalie arrived in Loch Draemar a short time later, after agreeing to meet Helen and Colm in an hour’s time. She made her way with trepidation into the chemist’s and winced as the bell jangled over the door.

But after the proprietor called out a pleasant ‘good morning’, no one bothered her, and she found herself alone, studying the assortment of pregnancy kits on offer with a frown of concentration.

She’d no idea there were so many brands available to tell you if you were pregnant or not. It did her head in. How was she to know which test kit was the most reliable?

Was it best to buy this famous one she’d seen advertised on TV? Or the one that claimed to be ‘easy to use’? Or this one over here, that screamed ‘doctor recommended’ in large blue letters?

In the end she went with the famous one. It cost the most...so that meant it was the best, surely?

Just before lunch they piled into the Range Rover and returned to Draemar.

‘It looks like I’ll be depending on the kindness of strangers for another week,’ Helen remarked as Colm turned up the drive that led to the castle.

‘What? Your car won’t be ready until then?’ Natalie asked.

She shook her head. ‘The mechanic says they have to send to Inverness for the parts. I really hate to impose on Tarquin and Wren any more than I already have.’

‘Oh, they don’t mind,’ Natalie assured her. ‘They love the company. But it’s a bit inconvenient for you, I imagine.’

‘A bit,’ Helen agreed, although secretly she was glad of the delay. It gave her time to wrangle an invitation to Northton Grange from Dominic and Gemma, and hopefully, to get the scoop – and photos – of their soon-to-be, not-so-secret wedding.

And while she remained at Draemar castle, she mused, she could do a bit more research into Andrew Campbell’s death, as well.

Natalie eyed her quizzically. ‘What brings you to Scotland, if you don’t mind my asking? Are you here visiting family?’

Colm slanted a glance at Helen in the rear-view mirror, but he made no comment.

‘No,’ Helen answered, ‘I’m a writer. Freelance. I write pieces on spec for women’s magazines.’

‘But that’s fabulous!’ Nat exclaimed. ‘I’d no idea you were a writer.’

Helen smiled briefly but was spared a further reply as they approached the castle. A salt-encrusted Jeep was parked before the entrance as Colm drew the Range Rover to a stop.

‘I wonder who that belongs to?’ Nat mused as she opened her door. ‘It looks as if it’s been through a war.’

‘It belongs to Archibald Campbell,’ Colm replied. ‘Tarquin’s father.’

‘But I thought Tark’s parents were in Corfu,’ Helen said in puzzlement.

He shrugged. ‘They must’ve cut their holiday short.’

‘How odd. I wonder why they’ve come back?’ she mused as she stepped out of the car.

‘Not really your business, is it?’ Colm said.

Before she could form a suitable response, he put the Range Rover in gear and drove away.

Low but charged voices reached Helen and Natalie’s ears as Dominic opened the front door and let them in.

‘What’s going on?’ Nat asked. She glanced across the entrance hall and was surprised to see that the drawing room doors were firmly shut.

‘Tark’s parents are back, that’s what’s going on,’ Dominic hissed. ‘I came down to see what the cook had on the menu for lunch – no haggis, thank God ‒ and I was headed back upstairs when all hell broke loose.’

‘Why? What’s happened?’ Helen asked.

‘I don’t know, exactly,’ Dom confided, ‘but it’s something to do with Tark’s sister Caitlin. I heard raised voices and shouting, then Tark came down the hall and herded everyone into the drawing room and shut the doors.’

Natalie frowned. ‘Why are they all
shouting
, if the Campbells have only just got home?’

Her question was answered when the drawing room doors flew open and Caitlin, her face red and her eyes swollen with tears, burst into the entrance hall and launched herself towards the stairs.

‘Caitlin Morag Campbell, don’t you dare walk out on this conversation!’ an equally red-faced man called out after her. ‘I’m your father, damn you, and I won’t bloody have it!’

With his ginger hair and beard bristling with anger, Tarquin’s father was an imposing figure.

‘Archie, please.’ A tall, attractive woman laid a hand on his sleeve as she glanced over at Natalie, Helen, and Dominic hovering uncertainly by the front door. ‘We have company.’

‘I’m sorry, Pen, but Caitlin and I didn’t finish this conversation.’ He shook off his wife’s hand and levelled a glare on his daughter.

‘It’s not a conver
sation
,’ Caitlin hurled back as she whirled around to face him, ‘it’s an inquisition! I planned to tell you both everything...but Wren went and spoiled it, like she always does.’ She shot a venomous glance at Tarquin’s wife, who stood in the hallway next to her husband. ‘She couldn’t wait to land me in trouble.’

‘I think you’ve done that well enough on your own.’ Tarquin scowled. ‘Wren had nothing to do with this, Caitlin. I did. I was the one who called to inform Mum and Dad, so kindly vent your spleen at me, not my wife.’ He put his arm around Wren’s shoulders in a protective gesture.

‘You?’ Caitlin regarded him in outrage. ‘Why? How could you, Tark? How could you
do
that to me?’

‘You’ve been thrown out of university,’ he said evenly. ‘What else was I to do? Mum and Dad have a right to know. They’re paying your tuition, after all.’

‘How did you find out?’ she demanded. ‘I never said a word to you!’

‘I found out purely by accident when I went on the university website looking for information for a friend. Imagine my dismay when I discovered that the Christmas holidays don’t start until the end of next week. I made a discreet enquiry and learned you’d been expelled.’

Caitlin glared at him, then turned and stormed away up the stairs. The sound of her door slamming echoed down to the hallway.

Tarquin’s father let out a sigh and stepped forward, his hand outstretched to the newcomers.

‘It’s a poor welcome to Draemar you’ve had, to be sure,’ he said gruffly. ‘I do apologize for the drama. We’re normally a fairly tranquil lot. Archibald Campbell,’ he added as he shook their hands in turn, ‘the owner of this great pile of stone. Now, let’s all go into the drawing room to get acquainted and have a wee dram, shall we?’

‘I’d love to join you,’ Natalie demurred as his hand engulfed hers, ‘but I need to run up to my room for a few moments. If you’ll excuse me?’

‘Of course! We’ll see you at lunch, then, I hope?’ Archibald asked.

‘Oh, yes. I’ll find my husband Rhys and bring him along, as well.’

‘Splendid! I’ll look forward to it.’

Natalie excused herself and made her way upstairs to the en suite bathroom she shared with Rhys. She was anxious to do the test before he returned.

She had to know if she were pregnant or not.

As she opened the test kit, she wondered where her husband had disappeared to. With a quick glance at the directions – how difficult was it to wee on a stick, after all? – Natalie did what needed to be done, then went into the bedroom to wait for the results.

She prowled the room. She checked her email. She sat and stared out the window at the snow.

It was the
longest
three minutes of her life.

When she returned to the bathroom and reached out with an unsteady hand for the stick, she scarcely dared to breathe. She was almost afraid to look. Could it be? Could it possibly be?