Free Love and Liability (Dating Mr Darcy - Book 2) by Katie Oliver Page B

Besides, she needed him to take a look at the Skoda’s engine. The red fault light had come on again. And she certainly didn’t have the money to pay for car repairs — or next month’s rent…
    Resignedly Holly stepped out of her clothes and went into the en-suite bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the upcoming evening’s ordeal.
    The muted sound of jazz and murmured conversation drifted up to Holly as she descended the stairs to the drawing room.
    Tugging at the hem of her dress, a brown pinstriped Biba she’d found in the Camden market, Holly fixed a smile on her face and clicked across the foyer in her t-strap heels.
Right, then, let’s get this over with
…
    “Holly, there you are!” her mother, looking chic in a black trouser suit, swooped forward and took her daughter by the arm. “You look lovely. Come and meet everyone.”
    Holly spotted her father, looking dapper in a dark grey suit and navy tie, in conversation with an older man — John, of John-and-Enid fame, she supposed — and excused herself.
    “Holly.” Her father came forward and regarded her with approval, then brushed his lips briefly against her cheek. “You look very grown-up.” He indicated the man standing beside him. “You remember John.”
    “Well, well, Holly!” He extended his hand. “The last time I saw you, you were wearing a pinafore and clutching a lolly,” he said, and beamed.
    “Oh, I gave up lollies and pinafores ages ago.” She smiled politely and shook his hand, then turned to her father. “Dad — sorry to interrupt, but there’s something I need to ask you. It’s important.”
    “Sounds like an imminent request for money, Alastair!” John said, and chuckled. “I’ll leave you to it. I need a top-up, at any rate. Nice to see you again, Holly.” He lifted his glass in salute and wandered off in search of the bar.
    “Nice to see you,” she echoed. He really
was
rather sweet.
    “Holly,” her father said in a low but firm voice as he drew her aside, “I’m not lending you any more money. I thought I made that abundantly clear.”
    “You did. No, it’s my car. It’s been acting up, and I hoped you might take a look at it.”
    “What’s the problem?”
    “Well, it’s nothing specific; it’s just been acting a bit…wonky, lately.”
    “Holly, you need to be more exact in your description than ‘a bit wonky’ if you want a mechanic to fix it. Of course, I’ll have a look under the bonnet…tomorrow.” He glanced over her shoulder. “Excuse me, but I need to rescue John from Lady Blandford’s clutches. We’ll talk later.”
    “Okay,” she sighed. “Thanks, Dad.”
    “That
can’t
be little Holly James, can it?”
    Startled, Holly looked up as an older woman approached her and brayed, “What a
lovely
dress. Vintage, is it? Biba, or Ossie Clark?”
    “Biba. You have a very good eye.” Impressed despite herself, Holly realized this must be Enid, the other half of John-and-Enid. “It’s been a long time. Are your sons here?” she enquired. “I’m sorry, but I’ve forgotten their names.”
    “I’m afraid William couldn’t make it. He’s married now, you know, with three boys. But my youngest is here…” Enid cast a vague glance around the drawing room. “At least, he
was
. He went outside with your father just a moment ago…ah!” She broke off as Alastair came back in through the French doors that led to the garden.
    “Alastair,” Enid enquired, “is my son with you?”
    “Yes, he’s just coming along. He and John and I slipped out to have a quick look at the Morgan.”
    “-fantastic car,” the young man coming in after Holly’s father was saying. “Didn’t you have one, Dad, back in the day?”
    “I did indeed!” John exclaimed, rosy-cheeked from the excursion and from his second bourbon on the rocks. “In my Cambridge days, I had a dark green Morgan. Loved that car — and so did the girls!”
    “Before you men launch into your car talk,” Enid said,