The Trouble With Emma (12 page)

“When can we expect filming to begin?” Mr Bennet asked.

“Probably sometime next week. These things move quickly once they’re underway.” Ms Winspear click-clacked across the terrace, through the French doors into the dining room. “When we return we’ll have the rest of the production crew with us.” She turned to Emma and extended her hand. “Thank you for your hospitality.” She smiled at Mr Bennet. “Both of you.”

“And thank
you
for visiting our humble home,” he said as he shook her hand in turn. “It was a very great pleasure to meet you.”

Her lips curved up in a flirtatious smile. “The pleasure was all mine, I assure you, Mr Bennet,” she replied. “Goodbye.”

“Goodbye,” Emma and her father echoed, and waved at them from the front doorstep.

“Well,” he remarked as the Mercedes disappeared from view, “that’s that. It looks as though you and I and Litchfield Manor are going to be on television after all.”

“Who would’ve imagined such a thing,” Emma said dryly. “I only hope we don’t embarrass ourselves. Some of those stately home owners come across rather poorly on screen.”

Mr Bennet chuckled as they went back inside. “We’re hardly the Osbornes. The only fault we might be accused of is boring the viewers to death.”

“Speak for yourself.” Emma closed the door and followed her father back to the kitchen. “I plan to be absolutely riveting. At any rate, it’s not about us, it’s about Litchfield Manor.”

“Right you are. I only hope Simon and Jacquetta come up with some workable suggestions as to how we might better use the place.”

“A luxury spa? A bed and breakfast?”

“An annual literary festival,” Mr Bennet mused, lost in thought. “With visiting authors, and readings, and writing workshops.”

“I know what Charli will want us to do.”

He looked at her quizzically. “What’s that?”

“She’ll want to hold an annual music festival here, no doubt.”

“Like Glyndebourne, you mean?”

“More like Glastonbury. This is Charlotte we’re talking about, after all.”

Mr Bennet shuddered and shook his head emphatically. “I should think not. I’ll consider anything within reason. But
not
that.”

Chapter 21

“Here’s Elton’s kibble,” Charlotte instructed her father on Saturday morning, pointing to the dog’s bag of dry food, “and his lead, and you won’t forget to give him a treat or put him out from time to time, will you –?”

Mr Bennet let out a breath of impatience. “I raised three daughters; I think I can manage one small dog for two days.”

“Sorry, daddy.” She hugged him. “Thanks for watching him while we’re gone.”

“Speaking of which, are you nearly ready?” Emma asked her sister as she dumped her weekend bag by the door. “I’d like to get to London before midnight.”

“I’m ready,” she retorted. “I’ve
been
ready. I’m just going over Elton’s care and feeding with daddy.”

“You might keep in mind that his care and feeding are handled by both of us all week long,” Emma pointed out.

“I can’t help it that I’m not here during the week. Would you prefer I quit school?” Charli demanded.

“I’d prefer you take responsibility for your actions. You had no business dumping a dog on us when you knew very well you wouldn’t be here to take care of him –”

“Let’s go, girls,” Mr Bennet interrupted, “or we’ll miss your train.”

“Is Lizzy meeting us at Leicester Square station?” Charli asked as they went out to the car.

“Yes. She and Hugh are picking us up.” Emma nudged her aside and put her bags in the boot. “She’s planned a dinner party for us tonight.”

“A dinner party! Who’s coming?”

“I’ve no idea.” Emma opened the rear door and slid inside the car. “Lizzy says it’s to be ‘casually intimate’, whatever that means.”

“I do hope she invited at least a few unattached men,” Charli complained as she settled in the front seat next to Mr Bennet. “My love life’s tragic right now.”

“As it should be,” her father retorted. “You’re at school to study, Charlotte, not to chase after every available male.”

“I know. But this is an opportunity, daddy. A chance to see the sights, do a bit of shopping –”

“For clothes, not boys,” Emma cut in. “Did you bring something nice to wear to Lizzy’s dinner tonight? Something,” she added pointedly, “appropriate?”

“I brought a vintage dress I found in a market stall. I’ll leave you to judge.” She reached for her mobile phone and muttered, “Like you always do.”

Emma opened her mouth to tell Charli to stuff it, but a warning glance from Mr Bennet stilled her, and instead she gazed out of her window, and wondered what the weekend in London might bring.

***

The Darcys’ home in Westminster was a refurbished Georgian terraced house in the heart of Covent Garden. Emma and Charlotte had a bedroom each with an en-suite bathroom and views of Craven Street. Shops and restaurants were within walking distance and Leicester Square was but a few minutes away.

“This is amazing,” Charli crowed as she flung her duffle on Emma’s bed and ran to the window to peer outside. “Lizzy’s done really well for herself, hasn’t she?”

“Lizzy’s happy. She married Mr Darcy for love,
not
for his money.”

“I know that. Still – better to fall in love with a rich bloke than a poor one, any day. Good deal if you can manage it.”

Emma paused as she withdrew a stack of knickers from her weekend bag and regarded her sister in surprise. “When did you become so cynical?”

“I’m not cynical,” Charli corrected her, “I’m practical. I intend to get my degree and get myself a good job here in London; but if I should happen to meet the right man and fall in love, and if he should happen to have pots of money, so much the better.”

“What if the man you fall in love with isn’t rich? What then, Miss Practical?”

Charli shrugged and picked up her duffle. “Then I’ll marry someone rich and see the poor bloke on the side.” She grinned. “He can be my bit of rough.”

Emma gasped. “Charlotte Bennet! If daddy heard you talking like that, he’d come to London and drag you back to Litchfield straight away –”

But as the younger girl began to giggle, snorting with laughter and pointing at Emma’s shocked expression, Emma felt her face relax into a smile. “All right, you’ve had your fun, winding me up like that. Go up to your room now and get unpacked. I’ll see you later.”

“You open yourself up for it, Em.” Charli walked to the door and turned back. “Why don’t you let your guard down for once and quit being so bloody serious? Relax and have fun! We’re in London for two whole days.”

“I will. I promise I’ll try, at any rate.”

“Well, I intend to make the most of every minute.” She sighed. “Isn’t Darcy’s driver the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen? He winked at me when he let me out of the car.”

“I have one word for you, Charlotte,” Emma said firmly. “‘Ciaran.’ Remember all the trouble flirting with him got you into, and not so long ago –?”

She shrugged. “That was entirely different. This is just a bit of harmless fun. Now, I’m off to my room to enjoy the luxury of having my own en-suite. Laters.”

And with a waggle of her fingers, Charli left.

***

Emma had just unpacked the last of her things and put them away in the dresser when there was a tap at her door.

“Em?” Lizzy asked, and peered inside the room. “Can I come in?”

“Of course! As if you need to ask.” She pushed her weekend bag aside so they could sit down on the bed. “This is your home now, after all.”

“No it’s not, it belongs to Hugh’s family. Every stick of furniture, every priceless painting on the walls…” Her smile was rueful. “The Darcys are so incredibly rich! I don’t think I’ll ever get used to living here.”

“Quite a change after ours, I should imagine,” Emma nodded. “No buckled wallpaper, or window sashes that stick…no fireplaces giving out more smoke than heat, and no buckets of rainwater to trip over in the dining room.”

“No. It’s all quite posh here.” Lizzy came in and sat cross-legged on Emma’s bed. “But I miss Litchfield Manor, and you, and I even miss that wonky floorboard on the third tread from the top of the stairs.” She glanced around the room. “Where’s Charli gone?”

“Up to her room. Then she’ll be flirting with the footman, no doubt.”

Lizzy laughed. “Em – we don’t
have
a footman.”

“Sorry, I meant that good-looking chap in the black uniform.”

“Alec? Oh. He’s Hugh’s driver. He’s very fit,” she admitted.

“He’s not half as fit as Hugh,” Emma reminded her, and lifted her brow. “Don’t tell me you just got back from your honeymoon and you’re already eyeing up the chauffeur –?” She picked up a tasseled pillow and tossed it at her sister. “I’m telling your husband.”

“You know I love Hugh to distraction.” Lizzy smiled and hugged her knees to her chest. “Oh, Em…I’ve never been so happy in all my life.”

“I’m glad. I’m thrilled for you, Lizzy. We all are.” Emma stretched across the bed on her side, her head propped up in one hand. “Tell me – what’s it like to be in love? To be as besotted as you and Hugh so obviously are?”

“It’s the best, most wonderful thing in the world. I feel safe. Like I’ve come home, and I never have to leave again.” She eyed her sister expectantly. “What about you, Em? Any new men on the horizon?”

“Unless you count a gay man with a purple Mohawk and a fondness for baking, no.”

“What about Mark Knightley? You two seemed to get on pretty well at daddy’s party.”

“He’s nice enough, I suppose, but I barely know him. And he’s a bit too up-his-own-arse for my liking.”

Lizzy burst out laughing. “Oh, Emma…I pity the poor man who falls in love with you. He’ll face an uphill battle of it just to persuade you to give him a chance.” She pushed herself off the bed. “But if anyone can manage it,” she added thoughtfully, “Mark can.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Emma warned her. “I’m quite happy as I am and have no need of a man –
any
man – in my life, thank you very much.”

“It may be too late…”

“What do you mean?” Alarmed, Emma followed her sister to the door.

“Oh, nothing,” Lizzy said airily, and smiled.

“Elizabeth, so help me, if you plan to shove some poor hapless man at me over the rack of lamb tonight, I’ll –”

“You’d best start getting ready,” Lizzy advised her, “or you’ll never be down in time for dinner. We’re having medallions of beef, by the way, not rack of lamb. We’ll see you for drinks in the reception room at seven…don’t be late. Bye!”

And before Emma could protest, her sister was gone.

Chapter 22

Promptly at seven that evening, Emma and Charlotte made their way downstairs. The reception room – in Litchfield, they’d have called it the drawing room, only this was a much grander version – was scattered with knots of people talking and holding drinks. Music played unobtrusively from an unseen sound system.

“It’s beautiful,” Charli whispered. “I suddenly feel a bit terrified.” She glanced down at her simple black cocktail dress. “And way underdressed.”

The room was long and elegant in its simplicity. Groupings of chairs and sofas, all of them antiques, were arranged at intervals along its length. A fireplace blazed at the end closest to the girls, although it gave off no heat, and a bar was set up at the far end.

After skimming the guests’ faces to reassure herself that Mark Knightley was not lurking among them, Emma laid her hand on Charli’s arm. “Let’s go and get a drink. I don’t see Hugh or Lizzy anywhere.”

“Here we are,” Lizzy called out as she and Hugh came down the stairs and joined them at the door. “Sorry. We were running a bit late.” She blushed.

“Really? And after you
insisted
we be on time,” Emma teased. She glanced at Hugh. “I hope you realise your new bride is chronically late for everything?”

“I’m learning.” He smiled and indicated the doorway. “Shall we go in? I’ll introduce you round, although I expect you already know most everyone here tonight.”

Lord and Lady Darcy turned to greet them, as well as Hugh’s godmother, Lady de Byrne, and her daughter Imogen; and Harry Darcy, Hugh’s younger brother, presented his date, Holly James. Ten people, Emma mused as she chatted and laughed and sipped her gin and tonic, keeping one eye on the doorway.

But of Mr Knightley, there was no sign.

She told herself she was glad. And she was. She had no desire to see him tonight, no matter how handsome he might be, and no matter how much she enjoyed sparring with him.

Emma took a rather large sip of her gin and tonic and pressed her lips together in a tight, determined line. Mark Knightley was a complication she could do very nicely without.

***

At eight o’clock they adjourned to the second reception room for dinner, and Emma’s glance swept over a trio of tables draped in cream linen and arranged throughout the room, each with a bowl of white orchids and four place settings of china and silver.

Twelve settings
? she thought, puzzled. Yet there were only ten people present. She tried to catch Lizzy’s eye to ask who the additional couple was, but her sister was engaged in conversation with Lady de Byrne outside the reception room and did not look up.

“Emma, shouldn’t we go in?” Charli asked as they hovered in the doorway.

“I’m sure Lizzy has a seating plan,” she said, stalling for time. She wanted to know who the missing couple was. “Let’s wait a moment before we go in and find our places.”

“I’m so sorry,” Lizzy apologised to her sisters as she and Lady de Byrne joined them a few minutes later. “We were expecting two more for dinner, but it seems they’re not coming.” Disappointment showed on her face. “I’d so hoped…” She smiled. “Oh, well. Let’s go in and find our seats, shall we?”

They were just about to go inside and sit down when Emma heard the sound of voices in the hallway just outside.

“I apologise for the late arrival, Darcy, but the traffic through Islington was not to be believed. I swear I might’ve walked and got here sooner.”

“No apology necessary – I’m quite used to it myself. I’m only glad I have Alec to deal with it most of the time.”