Katie Oliver - Christmas At Pemberley - And the Bride Wore Prada

‘Then why not ask me? Why go behind my back?’

She opened her mouth to argue, to say that she’d only done it to protect herself, to protect her heart from being broken, that she was sorry she’d unearthed the sad tragedy of his wife and child’s death...

...but Colm, his face etched in contempt, had already turned on his heel, and left.

Chapter 42

‘Well,’ Pen observed as she turned away from the window, ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Colm MacKenzie so angry.’

Caitlin, standing next to her, raised her brow as the groundskeeper stormed off down the drive. ‘I wonder what Helen did? Whatever it was, it must’ve been pretty bad.’

‘I think,’ Wren ventured, ‘that the two of them are seeing each other.’

‘Colm and Helen?’ Lady Campbell enquired as she breezed into the drawing room and joined them at the window. ‘Oh, unquestionably! I don’t normally like to gossip,’ she went on, ‘but I was looking out my window the other morning when I saw Miss Thomas doing the walk of shame up the drive from the gatehouse.’

‘Really? And how do you know that’s what it was?’ Caitlin scoffed. ‘She often goes out walking.’

‘She had on the same clothes she wore the day before – jeans, and that hideous Christmas jumper.’ She sniffed. ‘I know, because she didn’t do up her coat. It was flapping behind her like a great quilted bird.’

‘Helen’s not the sort of woman who’s bothered about her clothes,’ Pen pointed out, and moved towards the door. ‘I admire her for that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some correspondence to catch up with. I’m woefully behind.’

‘Does anyone still write letters?’ Caitlin wondered, mystified.

‘I do,’ her mother replied. ‘It’s a lovely habit, and one you should cultivate.’

‘In my day, every young woman had monogrammed stationery,’ Lady Campbell agreed. ‘Now it’s all texts and status updates and God knows what... If you’ll wait, Pen, I’ll come with you. I’d like your input on the dinner menu for Hogmanay this year...’

As the two women left, discussing the relative merits of fish versus fowl, Caitlin moved to follow them. She didn’t want to talk to Wren about the baby, not just yet. She needed time to think first, to find the right words.

But what were the ‘right words’ to tell someone – namely, Wren ‒ that she’d changed her mind and was keeping the baby?

‘Caitlin, wait.’ Wren turned from the window and followed her. ‘You said you wanted to talk to me...about the baby.’

‘I do,’ she hedged, ‘but I’m a bit busy just now. I promised Tark I’d make ginger cookies while I’m here. He loves my ginger cookies. It’s nearly Christmas, after all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d best get started—’

‘Please.’

A world of pleading and hope was contained in the word.

Caitlin sighed and turned around. ‘All right. Let me just close the doors so we can have a bit of privacy.’

‘Have you decided whether to have natural childbirth or not?’ Wren enquired as Caitlin moved to shut the doors. ‘It’s better for the baby, you know. Much less traumatic. You could give birth in one of those water pools…’

‘I’m having a baby,’ Caitlin said irritably, ‘not... baking a custard in a bain-marie.’

‘It’s a very lovely, very gentle way to give birth.’

‘Honestly, I haven’t given it much thought. But I’m sure I’ll want every pain medication on offer. The truth is,’ Caitlin admitted as she went to one of the sofas and sank down, ‘I’m terrified.’

‘Tark and I will go with you, if you like. We’ll be your...your birthing partners. Isn’t that what they call it nowadays? And I can help you pack whatever you’ll need in hospital.’

As she looked over into her sister-in-law’s excited, enthusiastic face, something of her own mixed feelings and misgivings must have shown. Wren’s smile faltered.

‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s wrong.’ Caitlin stared down at her hands, twisting the onyx ring on her finger round and round. ‘I just have a lot to think about at the moment.’

‘You’ve changed your mind, haven’t you?’

Caitlin looked at Wren, and the words she’d started to say ‒ no, of course I haven’t – remained unsaid. What was the point in lying? She had changed her mind, because of Niall, because he wanted her and he wanted this child she was carrying.

‘You’re keeping the baby,’ Wren said evenly.

‘I – yes, I am. I’m sorry,’ she added in a rush, ‘but Niall asked me to marry him, which caught me completely by surprise, and he wants this baby—’

‘What about me?’ Wren’s words were low but fierce. ‘What about what I want? You said you wouldn’t keep the child, that you were giving it up for adoption. To us. To Tarquin and me.’

‘I know I did,’ Caitlin said. ‘But things have changed. I’m sorry, Wren, truly—’

‘Sorry?’ she echoed, and let out a sharp, bitter laugh. ‘No, you’re not sorry . You’re enjoying every minute of this, aren’t you?’

Caitlin stared at her, stunned. ‘What? How can you say that?’

‘You don’t like me, Caitlin. You never have. That’s plain enough, and has been from the day I married Tarquin and moved in here. You resent me – for living in the castle, for having a place in Tark’s life, for taking attention away from you. Because everything’s always all about you, isn’t it? Caitlin Campbell, the golden girl.’

‘That isn’t true!’ she retorted, incensed.

‘It is true! Despite the fact that you’re a spoilt, over-indulged girl who’s never wanted for anything, you’ve always been jealous of me. All the little digs, the barbed comments...did you think I didn’t notice?’

‘You swanned in here and acted as though Draemar was yours, right from the very first day. You redecorated the drawing room – there was nothing wrong with it – and you let your stupid dogs have the run of the place. You made me feel unwelcome every time I came home from university, like I didn’t belong any more. “Why did you bring your dog home, Caitlin?’”’ she mimicked. ‘“You’re upsetting the household! You know we have dogs at Draemar.”’

‘Well,’ Wren said, her voice unsteady as she stood up, ‘you got your revenge for my supposed sins, didn’t you? You offered me something you knew I wanted – a baby of my own – and then you snatched it back away again. That was the plan all along, wasn’t it?’

‘Do you honestly think I planned this?’ Caitlin said incredulously. ‘I told you, I changed my mind because Niall wants to marry me! It is his baby, after all.’

‘Ah, yes – Niall. He’s nearly twice your age, he’s cheated on his wife with you, and he’s broken up his family for you. He’s quite a catch, isn’t he?’ She strode to the door. ‘There’s one consolation in all of this, though.’

‘Oh? And what’s that?’ Caitlin snapped.

Wren’s smile was tight. ‘It’s only a matter of time before he cheats on you, Caitlin. Because those sorts of men always do.’

So saying, she flung open the doors and left.

Chapter 43

Late that afternoon, Helen got in her car and drove the short distance to the gatehouse. She was determined to talk to Colm, to make him understand why she’d done what she did and to admit that she was wrong to do it.

She marched up the steps and rapped on the door.

Of course, there was no answer.

You stubborn bloody Scot , she thought grimly. Next, she tried the door, but it was locked. She couldn’t call him, either, as he didn’t have a telephone.

‘What need do I have for a phone?’ he’d told her once, full of scorn. ‘Anyone at the castle who needs me knows where to find me.’