Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,64

on you two lovebirds,” a voice trills beside us. “There’s plenty of time for that sort of carrying on after the opening.”

It’s Jilly, looking a little frazzled, her usually tamed curls sticking out at angles, the bow on her dress unraveled.

“Here,” I say as I tie it up for her and attempt to smooth down her hair. “You’re looking a little wild.” I gesture at Kennedy as I retie her bow. “Jilly, this is Kennedy.”

“The famous Jilly, huh?” Kennedy says. “It’s great to meet you.”

“You too, although I do remember you from the show,” she replies. Returning her attention to me, she says, “You’d look a little wild too if you had to deal with Portia Fortescue-Seymour and Cecily Parker-Smithston. They couldn’t organize themselves out of an open box with a map.”

“Why do you have to deal with…them?” I ask, their names too much of a mouthful for me to remember them in the correct order.

“Because ever since that exhibition opening—the one you’d rather forget, Emma—those two women have clearly made the rather irritating decision that I’m ‘one of them,’ and they can rely on me for everything. Really, it’s quite exhausting.” She places the back of her hand theatrically against her forehead as though she were an old-fashioned lady about to faint. “Thank goodness I’ve got your mummy, Sebby.”

Kennedy shoots me a look and mouths Sebby.

“Well, thank goodness they have you, Jilly,” Sebastian replies with a smile.

She glances at her watch and almost levitates off the pristine lawn. “I must go. Are you ready with your speech?” she asks Sebastian.

“I am,” he assures her.

“Good, because you’ve got to be more than just the eye candy for all the ladies today,” she says as she bustles away.

“I like to think I’m a little more than that,” he calls after her, but all she does is raise her hand in the air and wave.

Thirty minutes later, the flowers have been delivered and placed on the tables, the catering staff have placed the tables in the approved spots, and the auction items and technology have all been set up, ready for the big event.

People begin to pour in, dressed in their garden party best, the women in pretty floral dresses, some with hats, some with parasols. The men are dressed in white or beige linen, many with dapper Panama hats. Never having been to a garden party—because as Sebastian pointed out, tailgating in the stadium parking lot during football season doesn’t count as a garden party for many reasons, including the fact that it's not in a garden—I’m mesmerized by the romance of the surrounds transformed from a rolling lawn and simple but pretty pond into a scene worthy of an Impressionist's work of art.

And that’s when I see him, dressed in khaki pants, a white shirt, and navy blazer, looking like he just stepped off the fashion section of a men’s magazine. He saunters across the lawn as though he owns the place, a champagne flute in hand, a broad smile on his movie star handsome face.

Chris Hampshire.

I leave Kennedy to chat with some of Sebastian’s distant relations and make my way through the crowd. I grab Jilly by the arm.

“What is it?” she asks. “Is there a problem with the flowers? The food? Did the violinists all break their bows and now the music’s stopped?”

“Jilly—”

“No, it can’t be that. They’re still playing. I can hear them. Can you hear them?”

I say firmly, “Chris Hampshire is here.”

She blinks at me a couple of times in response, but she doesn’t look surprised. “Oh, him.”

My eyes widen in surprise. “Did you know he was going to come today?”

“Look, Emma. I told you, he’s catnip to me, and I’m the kitty cat who simply can’t resist him.”

Seriously? Ugh.

An image of a Chris Hampshire-shaped toy filled with catnip and Jilly as an oversized feline pops into my head. I push it away. It’s just too plain weird.

“Not that I’m going to go there with him again, of course,” she continues. “That would be totally insane. No, we’re trying something new right now. We’re trying to be friends.”

“Good for you,” I reply hurriedly. “But the thing is, this is Sebastian’s home. I’m not sure he’ll want him here. You might be trying something new with him right now, but those two are not exactly in the friend zone themselves. Are they?”

“Ah, now, that’s where you can come in, Emma. Chris told me you had a lovely, cozy chat the other day, and I thought since you’ve