Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,38

face lights up as my heart soars.

We’re saving the house! We’re saving Martinston!

“Oh, that’s brilliant news. Just brilliant,” Jilly gushes, her face still flush from all her giggling.

Heather raises her hand in the stop sign, halting our celebrations. “On one condition.”

Sebastian’s gorgeous smile has my heart melting all over again. “What condition?” he asks.

Heather’s voice has a steely edge when she replies, “No Emma.”

Wait, what? What does she mean, no Emma?

“We cannot agree to that,” Sebastian replies through gritted teeth.

Heather pulls her lips into a line. “Think about it before you give me your final response.”

Sebastian squares his shoulders. “No need. We’re a package deal. It’s either both of us, or neither of us.”

Heather’s eyes flick between Sebastian and me. “You’re throwing away a big opportunity here, Sebastian. You can capitalize on your popularity with this show. Who knows where it could lead you?”

Sebastian stands, and Jilly and I follow suit. “With all due respect, I would say you’re the one throwing away the opportunity, Heather.” He slips his hand into mine and says, “Let’s go.”

As the three of us turn to leave, I feel like adding “In your face!!” to her, but I restrain myself. I’m working on my maturity here, even if I’ve been insulted by this woman.

Heather doesn’t budge from her seat at the table. “Suit yourselves,” she says.

As we make our way to the door, I hear her call out, “Give me a ring when you change your mind.”

We walk out without a backwards glance.

Chapter 10

Sebastian crunches the gears of his old Aston Martin sportscar for at least the seventeenth time as we round a corner of a tree-lined, suburban street, almost drowning out the music from the stereo.

“It’s okay, Seb,” I say for the umpteenth time.

“It’s not, Emma. It’s not okay,” he growls as he takes a corner too fast, and we narrowly miss a car parked on the side of the street.

“Can you at least slow down?” I say, panic beginning to rise. “You’re freaking me out right now.”

He slows the car and pulls into a parking space. He switches off the ignition and lets out a heavy breath. “I hate the way she treated you in there.”

“It wasn’t exactly my favorite moment, either, but I’m sure it wasn’t personal.” I give him a sardonic smirk. I’m putting on a brave face, and I’m sure he knows it, because it felt pretty darn personal to me.

“It felt like she was telling you that you weren’t good enough for her stupid show. That made me angry.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” I nudge him playfully on the arm.

It would have been impossible not to notice. After Heather made it clear I was the last person she’d want on Saving Pemberley, Sebastian stood bolt upright and declared there would be no show without me and then proceeded to storm out of the room, trailed by Jilly and me.

I’d be lying if I didn’t say it felt amazing to be defended like that by the man I love. In my mind, Heather was the horrible Miss Bingley from Pride and Prejudice, telling Mr. Darcy how beneath him I am. But instead of agreeing with her, he turned on her, saying how much he ardently loved and admired me, to quote Mr. Darcy himself.

#Swoon.

So, even though I’m crestfallen that the show won’t go ahead and therefore we’ll lose the financial boost we so need to save the house, I’m glowing with love for my handsome defender.

He, on the other hand, has been boiling over the whole drive back to Martinston.

“How dare she say that about you. You’re more than good enough, Brady.”

I reach over, cup his face with my hands, and plant a kiss on his lips. “Someone drank the Emma Brady Kool-Aid.”

He smiles at me. “Guilty as charged.”

“Look, she’s a businesswoman, right? She knows I wasn’t the most popular contestant on Dating Mr. Darcy. I was the class clown, the light relief while you got on with the serious work of finding your lady of the manor. If she thinks that not having me on the show means it can go ahead and be super popular, then I will gladly step aside.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. “Gladly?”

“Okay, not ‘gladly’ exactly, but you know what I mean. I’ll do it for you and your family. I know what. I’ll hide out in the attic like Rochester’s crazy wife in Jane Eyre. Good job I read that novel in high school.”

He kisses me once more. “You’re amazing, you know that,

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