Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,7
with her saving them up to google them later—if I can remember them. She’s either super smart or enjoys confusing people.
I haven’t worked out which yet.
She looks to her daughter-in-law for support. “Isn’t that right, Jemima?”
“That’s so not true, Granny. I read all the time,” Zara replies before her mom gets the chance.
“Zara, I’m not sure those romance things on your phone should be considered ‘reading’ per se,” Sebastian’s mother, Jemima, says in significantly better humor than Geraldine. Mainly because she’s always in significantly better humor than Geraldine, so it figures. “Those things are mainly pictures.”
Zara shakes her head. “They’re called apps, Mum. Really, you need to pull yourself into this century before it’s over.”
“Thank you, Zara. I do know what an app is,” Jemima sniffs. She turns her attention to Sebastian, me, and Jilly. “Oh, hello you three.”
Zara waltzes over and plants a kiss on both my cheeks, but unlike Jilly’s there’s no additional m-wah, m-wah sound. “You’ll like this, Emma. Mum thought an iPad was something you put over your eye.”
“Well, to be fair, eye pads are used for your eyes, just not the electronic ones,” I reply tactfully as I greet Jemima. I am the girl newly engaged to her only, beloved son, after all. Staying on her good side is vital, especially considering how Geraldine feels about me. I can do with whatever backup I can get.
The mere thought of sharing the news of our engagement with Geraldine and Jemima shoots adrenaline violently around my body. Don’t get me wrong, Sebastian’s mom has been very welcoming to me, possibly because, as she told me, she too was an outsider when she married Sebastian’s dad. I know neither she nor Geraldine exactly approved of the fact we met on a reality TV show, but Sebastian has told them I was only on the show to promote my label, which Jemima seemed happy enough about.
Geraldine is a different story altogether. She decided any Dating Mr. Darcy contestant was a fame-hungry, gold-digging, manipulative piece of work not worthy of the title “Sebastian’s Girlfriend.” Of course, she threw in a few other adjectives, too, but I didn’t know what they meant.
Did I mention Geraldine isn’t my biggest fan?
I’m just thankful Sebastian makes it all worthwhile.
Sebastian greets his mom and grandmother, and we all take our seats, me sitting next to Sebastian again, trying to be subtle about the fact that I’m clutching onto his hand for dear life. What will they all think of me marrying him? Will they be happy for us? Supportive? Dead against it and determined to split us up?
The jangling of my nerves is almost deafening.
Sebastian shoots me an encouraging look, and I give him a nervous smile.
This is it.
“Granny, Mother. It wasn’t Zara who wanted you all to come here today, actually. It was me,” Sebastian says. “Well, Emma and me, to be precise. We have something we’d like to say to you.”
“This sounds like a family matter,” Jilly says, rising to her feet. “I knew I shouldn’t pop in unannounced. Very bad form, Jilly.”
That’s the other thing Jilly does, talk about herself in the third person. It’s just plain weird.
“I’ll make myself scarce, shall I? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“No, Jilly, stay. Not only are you our lawyer, but you’re a close family friend.”
That’s right, as the Huntington-Ross's lawyer, Jilly was the one who tried to talk Sebastian into choosing one of the other contestants on Dating Mr. Darcy for her money. I know, I know, saying that makes Sebastian sound like a truly horrible person, not to mention how it makes Jilly sound. Believe me, neither of them are horrible people. Very far from it, in fact. Sebastian only agreed to the plan because his family was at risk of losing Martinston, their home for centuries, and the girl in question, Camille, was the one who came up with the idea in the first place. Jilly and Sebastian were simply trying to do the right thing.
And anyway, in the end he rejected the idea because he was so very much in love with me.
See? Not horrible in the least. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Jilly sits back down slowly. “All right. I’ll stay.”
“Good.” Sebastian slips his hand into mine, and our gazes lock before he looks back at the assembled women. “We have an announcement,” he says.
“Are you doing another one of those ghastly television shows, my grandson?” Granny asks with an eyebrow arched in clear disapproval. Suffice it to say, Granny wasn’t a