could understand now why Oliver had a tricky relationship with his parents, and not just because they hadn’t wanted him to be a doctor; she knew he thought the same way that she did about people. From his expression, she could tell that he was horrified and angry about the way his parents had reacted to her.
‘Ella’s a very talented midwife,’ Oliver said, his voice very clipped. ‘Everyone thinks very highly of her at Teddy’s.’
‘Indeed,’ the Earl drawled. Making it very clear that whatever anyone else thought of her, the Earl and Countess of Darrington didn’t think that the daughter of a tenant farmer and a teacher was anywhere near good enough for their son.
‘I’m afraid we really ought to mingle. We have rather a lot of guests we haven’t welcomed yet,’ the Earl said. ‘Excuse us, my dear.’
And he and the Countess walked away without even a backward glance.
‘I’m so sorry about that,’ Oliver said, grimacing.
She swallowed hard. ‘It’s OK.’ Even though it wasn’t. Oliver’s parents had just snubbed her. Big time. ‘I kind of expected it.’
‘My parents,’ he said, ‘aren’t the easiest of people. It really isn’t you. That was just plain rude of them. Maybe it’s because they’re stressed about holding a big party.’
Ella didn’t think that something as simple as a party would stress the Earl and Countess of Darrington, especially one that had clearly been held every year for a very long time. They would simply snap their fingers and expect things to be done as they ordered. What could there be to worry about? Oliver was just making excuses for them.
Then again, what else could the poor man do?
She was just glad that her own family would be much, much nicer towards Oliver than his parents had been towards her.
Oliver raked a hand through his hair. ‘Come on. I’ll introduce you to a few others.’
Most of the people at the party seemed to be the movers and shakers of local businesses, plus local landed gentry: the kind of people Ella didn’t usually mix with and had nothing in common with. Everyone seemed polite—at least, they weren’t as openly hostile towards her as the Earl and Countess had been, but they were still quite reserved with her. It was very obvious that Ella wasn’t going to fit into Oliver’s world, even though his brother and sister-in-law were nice.
And why did all the men have to wear what smelled like half a bottle of super-strong aftershave? It made her feel queasy again, so she went to splash her face with water.
When she came out of the bathroom, the Countess was waiting outside.
‘Feeling a little under the weather?’ the Countess enquired, her expression unreadable.
Perhaps Oliver’s mother thought she’d been downing too much champagne. Which couldn’t have been further from the truth—but the truth was something Ella knew Oliver didn’t want the Countess to know yet. ‘It’s been a busy day,’ Ella prevaricated.
‘Perhaps I should offer you some coffee.’
Even the thought of it made Ella gag, and she wasn’t quite quick enough to hide the reflex.
‘I thought as much,’ the Countess said. ‘I knew there was a reason why Oliver would want to bring someone, especially as it’s been a few years since he’s turned up to our pre-Christmas drinks party. How far gone are you?’
Faced with a direct question, Ella couldn’t lie. ‘It’s still early days.’
‘Hmm. Obviously Oliver will insist on a paternity test, to make quite sure. Both he and Ned have known their fair share of women who, let’s say, would like to take advantage of their positions.’
What? Oliver’s mother actually thought that Ella was lying about Oliver being the baby’s father, and that she was some sort of gold-digger—because her parents were ordinary rather than titled? That was outrageous! But Ella couldn’t let rip and give the Countess a piece of her mind. She could hardly make a scene in front of everyone at the party, because it would embarrass Oliver hugely.
So she was just going to have to put up with this. And she really hoped that Oliver would think that she’d been gone a little too long and come in search of her, then rescue her from his mother.
‘Of course, if it is his,’ the Countess continued, ‘then as a Darrington the baby will have a position to maintain. If it’s a boy, he’ll go to the same prep school and public school as Edward and Oliver.’
Over my dead body, Ella thought. No way was she dumping her baby in a boarding school. She wanted her child to go to the local school, where he or she would fit in to a normal world. And her child would most definitely grow up feeling loved and wanted, rather than being palmed off on a nanny.
‘And,’ the Countess said, ‘in that case Oliver will have custody of the child.’
What? The baby was so tiny right now that you couldn’t make out more than a bean-shape on an ultrasound scan, and the Countess was already planning to take the baby away from her?
Ella opened her mouth, about to say, ‘Absolutely not,’ when the Countess cut in.
‘I’m glad we had this little chat, Miss O’Brien. I think we understand each other now.’
The Countess didn’t understand her at all, Ella thought, and clearly didn’t want to.
‘I’ll leave you to think about it,’ the Countess finished, and swept off.
That told Ella everything she needed to know.
Even though Prue and Ned had been so nice, there was no way she’d ever fit in here. The last thing she wanted was to deepen the divide between Oliver and his parents. So, even though she was angry on his behalf, she wouldn’t tell him what his mother had said and risk things getting even worse. Right now the best thing she could do would be to cool things between them instead of letting herself dream that she and Oliver could possibly have a future. It wasn’t going to happen.
But this baby was hers and no way was she going to let Oliver’s mother take the baby away from her, whatever the Countess might think. If the Countess tried, then she’d have a real fight on her hands. One which Ella had no intention of losing.
Ella had been gone a little too long for Oliver’s liking. Had she got lost in the house? Or had something happened? Worried, he excused himself from the people he was talking to and went in search of her.
He found her in a corridor on the way back from the bathroom.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
‘Fine,’ she said.
She didn’t look fine to him. She looked upset. ‘Has something happened?’
‘No—I’m just a bit tired,’ she said.
The baby. Of course. He should’ve realised. And she’d already excused herself a couple of times to splash water on her
