Who Needs Mr Willoughby?

Author:Katie Oliver [Oliver, Katie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781474049450
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2016-04-24T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 31

On Sunday morning, promptly at nine-thirty, Kit Willoughby arrived to collect Marianne. He’d arranged for the two of them to have tea with his aunt at Allenham.

She came to a stop as she caught sight of the grey Mercedes sedan parked in the drive. “What’s this? That’s not your car! Where’s the Jag?”

“You won’t believe it, but it was stolen yesterday.”

She drew in a sharp breath. “Stolen? But you only just got it! How? What happened?”

“When the show-jumping competition ended yesterday, I came outside afterwards to find my car gone.” He sighed. “It was my own fault. I got distracted, and left the keys in the ignition. Bloody stupid.”

She looked at him in dismay. “Oh, Kit…I’m so sorry. Have the police found it yet? Have they got any leads, or any idea who might’ve taken it?”

“Not a clue. In the meantime, I’m driving this hire car until the insurance paperwork’s sorted.”

“Poor Kit,” Marianne murmured, and slid her arms around his neck in a show of sympathy, “reduced to driving a boring old sedan…”

He kissed her once more and his lips curved into a smile. “At least I’ll have a gorgeous fiancée to ride with me in my boring old sedan.” He held the door open and waited for her to get in. “Are you ready to meet my aunt?”

She groaned and leaned her head back against the seat. “No. I’ll never be ready.”

He laughed and closed the door. “You’ll be fine. You’ll charm her within five minutes, I promise you.”

And as he went around the bonnet and got in behind the wheel and drove them to Allenham, Marianne only wished she shared his conviction.

***

“Come in, please. Your Aunt Eugenia is expecting you.”

Marianne exchanged a nervous glance with Kit as the butler ushered them through Allenham’s massive front door. She had a vague impression of marble, echoing silence, and portraits painted with pale sunlight as they followed him across the entrance hall to the drawing room.

Kit squeezed her hand reassuringly and smiled. “Buck up,” he murmured. “You’ll be fine.”

Before she could do more than give him a fleeting smile in return, the butler opened the double doors, stepped inside, and intoned, “The Honourable Christopher Willoughby and his guest, Miss Marianne Holland.”

Marianne quailed. Crikey… Was this a meet-and-greet with Kit’s aunt, or a formal presentation at Buckingham Palace? She glanced down at her outfit with misgivings. She hoped she wasn’t underdressed in the pencil skirt and twinset she’d borrowed from Elinor.

Willoughby took her elbow and guided her through the door to his aunt, who presided over a table set with tea and an assortment of tiny sandwiches and miniature cakes. She stood as they came closer, dressed conservatively in a tweed skirt and silk blouse, and eyed Marianne with an inscrutable expression.

She allowed Kit to draw her into a brief embrace and turned her attention to Marianne. “Miss Holland. How nice to see you again. We met – very briefly – at Lady Violet’s picnic, did we not?”

You know very well we did, Marianne thought, but “Yes, Mrs Smyth, we did.

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