Christmas At Pemberley: And the Bride Wore Prada. Katie Oliver
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Or perhaps not. After all, Natalie reflected with a frown, Gemma hadn’t bothered to share this latest news with her, nor had she invited them to the wedding. No surprise there, really; after all, she and Gem hadn’t spoken in nearly four months. But they used to tell each other everything.
And it really hurt to be excluded.
Oh well, Nat reminded herself, at least she and Rhys would be spending the holidays with her good friend Tarquin at his family’s castle in the tiny village of Loch Draemar in the Scottish Highlands.
It promised to be a fun and relaxing few weeks of roaring fires, delicious food (hopefully minus turnips or haggis), and brisk walks across the heath, not to mention nice long fireside chats with Tark and Wren, and she was really looking forward to it.
She looked up as a family trundling wheeled suitcases behind them trudged past in Gemma and Dominic’s wake. ‘I want a sweet, Mummy,’ a little girl with ginger hair complained. ‘You said I could have an ice lolly.’
‘Sam, it’s two degrees outside,’ her mother said, exasperated. ‘You can’t possibly want an ice lolly.’
‘But, Mummy, I do. And you promised.’
‘You did promise,’ a slightly older boy pointed out. ‘In the car, you said Sam might have one if she only stopped singing “The Wheels on the Bus” for five bloody minutes—’
‘That’s enough out of both of you,’ their father interjected. ‘Come along, or we’ll be late boarding our flight.’
As they walked by and merged into the crowds, the ginger-haired girl still sulking, Natalie eyed them wistfully. How lovely to have a family of your own, she thought. A sweet little girl or boy – or perhaps, one of each – for whom she could buy lots of darling little outfits, and lots of darling little shoes, and lots of darling little toys...
She sighed. She really, really wanted a baby. And although Rhys was amenable to the idea, he thought it best that they wait a bit, and enjoy being a couple before they started a family. After all, he’d pointed out, they’d only just got married. And although Natalie knew he was right in theory ‒ that they should travel and dine out and enjoy one another’s company before they added children to the mix – still, the pull of motherhood grew stronger within her every day.
Her sister Caro had a new baby. Such a sweet lamb little Phillipa was, too – so soft and cuddly and smelling of baby powder and...well, to be honest, Natalie thought as she wrinkled her nose, of poo, sometimes. She didn’t much look forward to that. Still – the image of Rhys, bent over a changing table as he put a nappy on their baby girl or boy, made her absolutely melt...
‘Excuse me. Sorry to bother you, but...aren’t you Natalie Dashwood?’
Startled out of her reverie, Natalie looked up to see a woman with short-cut brownish hair and blue eyes regarding her quizzically. A laptop bag hung off her shoulder.
‘Well, I was,’ Natalie said, her expression guarded. ‘I’m Natalie Dashwood-Gordon, now. Sorry, have we met—?’
She smiled in apology. ‘Oh, no. Only...I spotted you across the way and thought I recognized you. I saw you waving to Dominic Heath just now.’
Natalie nodded. ‘I tried to catch his eye, but with all the paparazzi...’
‘Yes, horrible buggers, aren’t they?’ The woman indicated the empty seat next to hers. ‘Do you mind? It took me two bloody hours to get through the security lines.’
‘Of course not. Please, sit down. My husband’s just gone to fetch some coffee.’
‘Ah, yes. Rhys Gordon. You two are married now, aren’t you? I read about it in the tabs,’ she added as she slid the laptop strap from her shoulder and sat down.
Natalie nodded politely. ‘Yes. We got married five months ago.’ She sneezed again. ‘Sorry,’ she apologized as she withdrew another tissue from her pocket. ‘Allergies.’
‘Quite all right, I have them too. So you’re still practically newlyweds! How lovely.’
‘Yes. It’s almost five months now.’
‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you.’
The woman leant forward. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but you tied the knot at Dominic’s family home in – oh, where was it—? Warwickshire?’
‘Yes. We had a lovely wedding at Mansfield Hall.’
‘The photo spread in Town and Country was gorgeous,’ she agreed. ‘Still,’ she added with a tiny frown, ‘getting married at your ex-boyfriend’s family home... That must’ve been a bit awkward.’
‘Not really,’ Natalie said, with a trace of defensiveness. ‘It’s true Rhys and Dom don’t like each other, but they managed to be civil for the duration of the wedding reception.’
‘Well, that’s something, I suppose.’ The woman glanced in the direction of the VIP lounge. ‘Rumour has it that Dominic and Gemma are off to Scotland to get married in a secret wedding ceremony.’
‘Is that right? I wouldn’t know.’
‘Really?’ She regarded Nat in mild surprise. ‘But I thought...well, aren’t you and Dominic’s fiancée good friends?’
Natalie hesitated. ‘We are. Well, we were. But we’ve...lost touch.’
‘Ah,’ she said, her face etched in sympathy. ‘Running in loftier circles now, is she?’
‘Yes. Yes, that’s it, exactly.’
‘Here we are, darling ‒ coffee, cream, one sugar.’
Rhys stood before her, holding out a Costa cup.
‘Thank you,’ Nat murmured, and took the cup. ‘While you were gone, Gemma and Dominic went past with a boatload of paparazzi in their wake.’
He grimaced. ‘Glad I missed that.’
‘Oh – where are my manners? Rhys, let me introduce you to... I’m sorry,’ Natalie apologized as she turned back to speak to the woman in the seat next to hers, ‘but I didn’t catch your name—?’
But the seat was empty. The woman with the short brown hair and the laptop was gone.
Natalie frowned, perplexed. ‘That’s odd. She was just here, sitting next to me, chatting. She was very nice. But she’s gone now.’
‘They probably called her flight. Or she went to the loo.’ He sat down and sipped his coffee. ‘The queue at Costa was ridiculous, that’s what took me so long.’
‘I wonder if it’s true?’ Natalie mused as she resumed her seat next to him.
‘If what’s true?’
‘I wonder if Dominic and Gemma are finally getting