Free And the Bride Wore Prada by Katie Oliver Page B

afternoon was too much.’
    ‘Probably,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll just go to bed early and I’m sure I’ll be fine in the morning.’
    ‘No.’ Rhys shook his head firmly and took her arm. ‘This time, I insist on fetching a doctor to have a look at you.’
    She didn’t argue, but allowed him to lead her upstairs and settle her on the bed while he went back down to inform their hosts that she was ill.
    Doctor MacTavish, the family physician and local GP, arrived forty minutes later with his medical bag in hand, and Rhys led him upstairs to their bedroom.
    ‘Well,’ MacTavish pronounced a short time later, after conducting a thorough examination of Natalie, ‘you’ve not got a fever, young lady, so it isn’t flu; and the fact that you’re keeping your food down tells me it’s not food poisoning, either.’
    She exchanged a quick glance with Rhys, who hovered near the bed, and eyed Dr MacTavish in puzzlement. ‘If I haven’t flu or food poisoning, then what on earth is wrong with me, doctor?’
    ‘Well, nothing’s
wrong
with you, as such,’ he ventured as he returned his stethoscope to the bag. ‘I’ll need to run a urine test in my office to be sure, of course, but...’ he smiled ‘I think it’s safe to say, Mrs Gordon, that you might very well be pregnant.’

Chapter 14
    ‘Pregnant!’ Natalie echoed, stunned.
    ‘Pregnant?’ Rhys exclaimed.
    ‘Pregnant,’ Dr MacTavish said again, and nodded. ‘Mind you, it’s not certain until we do a test.’
    ‘Oh. Yes. Of course,’ Natalie said faintly.
    ‘You’ll need to schedule an appointment in the morning. Here’s my card.’ He handed it over. ‘I can see you late tomorrow afternoon for a urine test. That’ll give us the answer.’
    ‘The answer,’ Natalie repeated.
    ‘Yes. As to whether you’re pregnant or not.’ He smiled again and patted her briefly on the hand, then stood to leave. ‘In the meantime, stick to clear liquids and unsalted crackers if you begin to feel the least bit queasy. Good night.’
    ‘Good night. And thank you.’
    Rhys stood up and opened the door. ‘Good night, Dr MacTavish. I’ll see you out.’
    ‘What do you think of this one?’ Gemma asked Dominic later that evening, after everyone had dispersed to their rooms for the night.
    He lowered the television remote and looked up from his half-hearted perusal of the local channels – all three of them – to stare at the glossy bridal magazine his fiancée held aloft before him.
    ‘Well,’ he said cautiously, having learnt to tread carefully where all things bridal were concerned, ‘it looks like a plaid dress to me.’
    ‘It’s not just a plaid dress,’ she corrected him, ‘it’s a Lotte Ellis.’
    ‘A Lotte Ellis,’ he repeated, having no idea who (or what) a ‘Lotte Ellis’ was. He gave the full-length plaid dress with the red sash a cursory glance and nodded. ‘Nice.’
    ‘I thought it’d be perfect for the bridesmaid’s dresses,’ Gemma went on, ‘since they’re ready to wear and we can buy them off the rack in Aberdeen. I’ll need to round up the girls for a fitting, though.’
    ‘Have you chosen anyone yet?’
    She nodded and tossed the magazine aside. ‘Natalie, of course,’ she said as she ticked the names off on her fingers, ‘and Wren, my half-sister Petra – not that I think she’ll do it ‒ my bezzie mate Sam, and Cara.’
    ‘Wren? You only just met her. And that’s only five,’ Dominic pointed out, and frowned. ‘I thought you wanted at least six.’
    ‘I do.’ She pouted. ‘But Lucy can’t make it as she’s already committed to be a bridesmaid for Sarah’s destination wedding in St Barts, so I’ll just have to ask someone else.’
    ‘Yeah, right,’ Dom mumbled, and suppressed a yawn. He wondered if he couldn’t sneak off to the screening room for a bit and see what was on offer on Sky...
    ‘...so I think I’ll ask Caitlin instead.’
    Dominic blinked. ‘Caitlin
Campbell
? Tark’s sister?’
    She raised her