Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,67

that we are the generation to bring this to you all.”

There’s more applause, and I beam at him.

“I’m sure you don’t want me to stand up here doing all the talking, so—” he continues.

“Yes, we do!” a female calls out from behind me, and laughter rolls through the audience.

“What’s it like being engaged to a sex symbol?” Kennedy asks me.

“It’s a tough job,” I reply with a grin.

“As the most senior member of the family, I would like to invite my grandmother, Geraldine Huntington-Ross, to officially open the house. Granny?”

At the neighboring table, Geraldine rises slowly to a stand and begins to make her way to the podium. As she passes by our table, I notice her slightly unsure on her feet. Perhaps it’s the uneven grass or perhaps she sampled a little too much of the accompanying champagne. Whatever it is, I see my chance to get in her good books.

Immediately, I shoot up onto my feet to help her. The last thing we want is for Geraldine to fall and break a hip, today of all days. She’s not exactly on board with opening the house, so that would make today a total disaster in her eyes.

As I take a step toward her, there’s a strong gust of wind, and I feel my hair whip up around my face. I push it back, hitting my fascinator hat as I do. I must have dislodged it, because the next thing I know, it’s somehow come loose from my hair, and caught by the wind, it flies off my head. I grasp for it, but I miss it entirely. Instead, I watch in horror as it flies straight at Geraldine and slaps her in the face.

She wobbles once more, and I decide to forget about the hat and instead rush to her side, where I steady her with my hands on her arms.

“Are you okay?” I ask her as I glance at my hat. It’s now airborne, like some little green UFO, floating away toward the pond.

“I am perfectly all right, no thanks to you,” she sniffs. “Unhand me immediately.”

I instantly loosen my grip as I hear Chris call out, “The lilypad has broken free! Don’t worry, Texas. I’ll go get it for you.” He rushes past me toward the pond, pulling his jacket off as he goes like some kind of superhero, ready for action.

To my utter surprise, Sebastian springs into action, darting past us as he says, “Oh, no you don’t! She’s my fiancée, so I’ll get the darn hat.”

What the…?

Together, Geraldine and I and the rest of the garden party watch with our jaws dropping to the ground as both men chase the hat, which remains out of arm’s reach as it drops into the pond with a small splash.

Kennedy appears at my side. “They’re not going in after it, are they?”

“No way,” I declare.

But I’m wrong.

There’s a rush of people around us as the two men reach the edge of the pond and begin to strip off their shoes and jackets.

“They’re going in!” someone yells behind me, and immediately people race past us to get a better view.

I look at Geraldine. Her face is a study in bewilderment. “Are you all right?” I ask her.

“I am, thank you,” she sniffs.

I return my attention to the pond as first Chris and then Sebastian, stripped down to their shirts and pants, dive into the pond. There’s much thrashing and splashing, and we all watch in wonder as the two men battle it out to reach my lily pad of a hat first.

I rush down to the water’s edge, followed by a crush of people. I’m not sure if Geraldine has followed, and right now my mind is on the weird event unfolding in front of me.

“What are you doing?” I call out, but neither of them is listening. They’re too busy trying to get to the hat first to notice me.

“I’ve got it!” Chris holds it up in the air in triumph, and the people around me applaud, several cheering him on.

“I’ll have that, thank you,” Sebastian says, swiping it from Chris’s hand and turning to swim back to dry land.

“Dude! Not cool,” he complains before he too swims toward us all.

Reaching the shallows, Sebastian stands up, clutching the now bedraggled hat in his fist. There’s a collective intake of breath around me as he strides out of the pond, his white shirt clinging to every contour of his chest, looking like he’s in a sexy calendar designed