Free And the Bride Wore Prada by Katie Oliver Page A

about money, for starters?’ he accused her. ‘You reporters are always chasing after a big payoff.’
    ‘There’s always the money, of course,’ Helen agreed, and shrugged. ‘There’s no denying that an exclusive look at Dominic and Gemma’s wedding – with photos ‒ would fetch a tidy sum. But it’s more than that. With a big enough story, I can quit this bloody job and do what I really want to do – write.’
    He frowned. ‘But that’s what reporters do, isn’t it? Write news stories?’
    ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘We ask questions, we string facts together, we check names and conduct research. That isn’t writing, it’s reporting. I want to
write
. Worthwhile things like novels and short stories. Human interest pieces.’
    For a moment, he said nothing, only regarded her with that inscrutable expression on his face. ‘Oh, aye. And I’m sure you will, given time. You strike me as a woman who always gets what she wants.’
    Helen met his gaze. ‘Not always, Mr Mackenzie,’ she retorted. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me?’
    And as she strode away across the entrance hall towards the drawing room, Colm called out, ‘Goodbye, Ms Thomas. And good luck to you on that story. I hope you find what you’re looking for.’
    Caitlin and Jeremy did not come down for dinner that evening. If he noticed their absence, Tarquin gave no sign.
    ‘Any word on your hire car, Ms Thomas?’ he asked Helen midway through the main course.
    She glanced up from her saffron-sauced finnan haddie with a polite smile. ‘Yes, actually. Someone’s coming out tomorrow morning to tow it away to the village. Then I’ll be out of your hair at last, and on my way.’
    He paused, wine glass halfway to his lips. ‘I certainly didn’t mean to imply that you’re not welcome to stay on at Draemar for as long as you wish,’ he hastened to assure her, and reddened. ‘I simply wondered.’
    ‘I quite agree with Tarquin,’ Wren said. ‘We’ve loved having you here as part of our little house party, Ms Thomas. And you do realize, don’t you,’ she pointed out, ‘that even if they tow your car away, it may not run properly...and you’ll need to stay on until it’s repaired. In which case,’ she added briskly, ‘you must stay here, at Draemar. We shall be deeply insulted if you don’t.’
    Tarquin raised his wine glass. ‘Hear, hear.’
    Helen laughed. ‘Well, we can’t have that, can we?’ She laid her fork aside and added, ‘Thank you both, so much. You’ve been very patient. And very kind.’
And you’ve very neatly solved the problem of how I’ll manage to stay on here a bit longer...
    ‘How is your ankle, Dominic?’ Wren enquired as she turned to the rock star. ‘Any better?’
    He shrugged. ‘It still hurts like a bast— er, quite a bit. But that groundskeeper chap found me a pair of crutches and brought ’em round.’
    ‘Oh, yes, Mr Mackenzie.’ Wren paused as a footman poured more wine in her glass. ‘He’s a treasure. He’s proven himself invaluable in the short time he’s been here. Hasn’t he, darling?’ she asked Tarquin.
    ‘Oh, yes, quite,’ he agreed, distracted.
    ‘What did he do, before he came here?’ Helen wondered. ‘Has he always been a groundskeeper?’
    ‘No,’ Tarquin answered. ‘No, I don’t believe so. When I interviewed him for the position, he said he’d worked in construction, and tended bar, and that he’d done a stint in the British Army...’
    ‘Interesting,’ she remarked. ‘He’s worn a great many hats, then.’
    When everyone finished dinner and got up to go into the drawing room for after-dinner drinks, Natalie stayed behind. ‘Rhys,’ she murmured as he turned to follow the others, ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I’ll go upstairs and, and lie down for a bit.’
    ‘Again?’ A frown creased his brown. ‘But you’ve complained of not feeling well before. And you’re alarmingly pale. Perhaps being out in the cold all