they walked by a towering floral display, Ella discovered that the heavy perfume of lilies brought on a rush of morning sickness.
‘Are you all right?’ Prue asked.
‘Fine,’ Ella fibbed.
‘No, you’re not. You’ve gone green. Come on, let’s get you a glass of water and somewhere quiet to sit down.’
Prue was as good as her word, and Ella felt better when she’d had a sip of water.
Prue lowered her voice. ‘So how far along are you?’
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Ella said, inwardly horrified that Prue had guessed her secret already.
‘Ella, you’re a midwife and I have three girls. When someone female goes green at the scent of lilies, either they have hay fever—in which case they’ll start sneezing the place down within two seconds—or…’ Prue squeezed Ella’s hand. ‘If it makes you feel any better, I’ll tell you a secret. If the party had been last week instead of tonight, I would’ve turned green as well at the scent of those lilies.’
‘You’re…?’
Prue nodded, and lifted a finger to her lips. ‘Ned and I promised each other not to tell anyone until I’m twelve weeks.’
And that gave Ella the confidence to admit the truth. ‘Me, too. Almost eight weeks. But please don’t tell anyone,’ she said. ‘Not even Ned.’
‘OK. I promise. But you have to make the same promise,’ Prue said. ‘You can’t even tell Olls for the next three weeks.’
‘I promise,’ Ella said.
‘But this is such fabulous news,’ Prue said. ‘Our babies will be practically the same age. Which means they’ll have a great time romping around this place together.’
‘I used to play with my cousins all the time, when I was young,’ Ella said. And she loved the idea of her baby having a built-in family like this, just the way that she had.
‘My cousins all lived too far away for us to see them that often. And I was the only one, so I was determined to have lots and lots of children,’ Prue said. ‘Ned’s desperate for a boy. Not because of the entailment and all that nonsense about a son and heir, but because he says he’s going to need some support when the girls are teens and we all have PMT at the same time and he’ll be terrified of us.’
Ella couldn’t help laughing. She really, really liked Oliver’s sister-in-law, and she had the feeling they were going to become good friends. ‘I bet the girls wrap him round their little fingers.’
‘They do,’ Prue confirmed. ‘And you should hear him read them a bedtime story. It’s so cute.’
Would Oliver be like that as a father, totally involved with their baby?
Then again, she and Oliver weren’t a proper couple—despite the way he’d kissed her tonight.
Ella pushed the thought away as Ned and Oliver came over to join them.
‘I wondered where you’d both disappeared to,’ Ned said.
‘Sorry. I just needed to sit down for a moment,’ Ella said. ‘It’s been a crazy shift at work today. I had a mum with a water birth, and then a scary one where the cord was wrapped round the baby’s neck. Luckily there was a happy ending in both cases.’ It wasn’t strictly true—although that particular shift had happened, it had been a fortnight ago rather than today—but she hoped that the story would keep Ned off the scent.
‘We really have to circulate, darling, or Mama will be on the warpath,’ Ned said to Prue with a grimace. ‘Ella, please excuse us—but do make sure you find us later, because I’d love to get to know you a bit better. And make sure Prue has your mobile number so we can arrange dinner.’
‘I will,’ Ella promised.
‘Are you really all right?’ Oliver asked when his brother and sister-in-law had gone.
‘Yes.’ She gave him a wan smile. ‘The lilies got to me.’
‘Right.’ Understanding filled his gaze.
‘Sorry for telling the fib about work.’
‘No. I understand. You needed to—otherwise you’d have had to tell them.’
And she’d already told Prue, she thought, feeling guilty. ‘I like your brother and sister-in-law,’ she said.
‘They’re good sorts,’ Oliver said. He looked her straight in the eye. ‘Are you feeling up to meeting my parents?’
Even the idea of it made butterflies stampede through her stomach. It was so important that she got this right and made a good impression, for Oliver’s sake. But Prue and Ned had been so nice and welcoming. Surely Oliver’s parents would be the same, even if things were strained between them and Oliver? ‘Sure,’ she said, masking her nerves.
He led her over to the other side of the room. ‘Mama, Papa, I’d like to introduce you to Ella O’Brien,’ he said.
His voice was much more formal and cool than it had been when he’d introduced her to his brother and sister-in-law, and Ella’s heart sank. This didn’t bode well.
‘Ella, this is my father Edward, the Earl of Darrington, and my mother Catherine, the Countess of Darrington,’ Oliver continued.
Instead of greeting her warmly, the way Ned and Prue had, the Earl and Countess of Darrington simply stood there, looking very remote. The Earl nodded at her and the Countess just looked her up and down.
Were they expecting her to curtsey? Did you curtsey to an earl and a countess? Unnerved and flustered, Ella did exactly that. ‘Pleased to meet you, Lord and Lady Darrington,’ she said awkwardly, hoping she’d got it right.
‘Indeed,’ the Earl of Darrington said, his voice cool.
Ella noticed that he didn’t invite her to use their given names, the way Prue and Ned had done; his approach was much more formal. And she felt as if she’d already made a fool of herself. Perhaps curtseying had been the wrong thing to do.
‘So how do you know Oliver?’ the Earl asked.
‘I’m a midwife. We work together at Teddy’s,’ she said, acutely aware of the difference between her soft Irish accent and the Earl’s cut-glass tones.
‘Of course. What do your parents do?’ the Countess asked.
‘Mama, that’s hardly—’ Oliver began.
‘It’s fine,’ Ella said. Of course they’d want to know that. ‘Mam’s a music teacher and Da’s a farmer.’
‘So you have land in Ireland?’ the Countess asked.
‘No. Da’s a tenant farmer,’ Ella said, lifting her chin that little bit higher. She wasn’t in the slightest bit ashamed of her background. As far as she was concerned,
