Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,30

I collect my purse.

“Just kidding,” I call out as I waltz out of the room. I rush down toward the front door only to come face to face with Geraldine.

“Emma,” she says with a pleasant enough smile, by which I mean she’s not throwing daggers at me with her eyes and there’s only a hint of looking down her nose at me. It’s a pretty low bar, I tell you. “Where are you off to in such haste on a Saturday morning?”

“Good morning, ma’am. I’m meeting Jilly in the village. Did you enjoy the opera?”

“I found it highly amusing, of course, as one should with any satirical performance, although I suspect my amusement was a little less than some.”

“About that. I’m really sorry about the whole giggling fit thing. I’m not usually like that.”

“I’m sure,” Geraldine replies, her thin lips pulled tightly together.

We stand in awkward silence until I say, “Well, have a great day.”

“Thank you,” she replies and then brushes past me on her way down the hall.

I let out a puff of air as I make my way through the house to the large former stables that have been converted into garaging. I hop into Sebastian’s old Aston Martin sports car, sitting low to the ground, and rev the engine. I’ve got no idea about cars, but I do know this is a pretty stylish one, and it’s definitely got more power under the hood than a girl driving on the wrong side of the road should have.

Although driving stick on the wrong side of the road still has its challenges for me—you know, like remembering which side of the road I’m meant to be on in the quiet country lanes with their lack of road markings and other minor points—I feel very much the lady of the manor in this beautiful, classic car.

Despite it all, I manage to make it to the village, where I drive around for a long time, looking for a parking space—parallel parking this thing is a step too far for this American right now. Finally, I spot one, pull into it, and dash down the road to Mia’s Café, where I’d agreed to meet Jilly.

I push the door open and am immediately hit by the tempting aroma of baked goods, and my tummy rumbles, demanding to be fed cookies, and now. The aroma reminds me of Penny, and I suddenly miss her. She would know what to do about Granny right now. And she’d help me laugh at myself, too.

I hear Jilly call out, “Yoo-hoo, Emma! Over here,” and spot her at a table at the back, waving and smiling at me, looking as beautiful as always in a floaty dress and tailored navy jacket with gold buttons.

Jilly isn’t one to dress down, even on the weekend.

I make my way through the coffee house, and we do the usual greeting, this time narrowly avoiding the dreaded cheek slap.

See? I’m becoming more English by the minute.

“Can I get you a coffee?” I offer. “I’ve got to get one of their chocolate chip cookies, too. They are so good.”

“One of those would be lovely, although I am meant to be on a no-carb, no-sugar diet, you know.”

I regard her size two frame. “That sounds terrible.”

“You’re right. It is terrible. Beyond terrible. Get me a biscuit and a cappuccino with chocolate.”

I grin at her. “Good choice. BRB.” I put in our order and return to the table. “Thank you so much for agreeing to meet me at such short notice.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I was doing boring solicitory things anyway, which is my life, really, even at the weekend. I could do with a break from all that, and you are a refreshing change of pace, Emma.” She leans her elbows on the wooden table. “Tell me, how are you after last night’s little debacle?”

I cringe at the memory. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh, I absolutely felt for you, Emma. A giggling fit is the worst. I remember once when I was in church for one of my sister’s children’s baptism—I forget which one—someone said something that had me in stitches, and I had to rush out of the church, my hand pressed to my mouth to keep from laughing. When I finally got outside, I burst into hysterical laughter, only narrowly avoiding weeing in my undies, and then realized too late I hadn’t closed the door behind me. Everyone was gawking at me through the open doors. Ophelia wouldn’t talk to