‘If you don’t care about my feelings you might at least have the common courtesy not to embarrass your family,’ she choked furiously. The bland look she received in return didn’t display any signs of remorse.
‘I’m not embarrassed,’ Natalie observed chirpily.
An expression of shocked comprehension crossed Sabrina’s face. ‘But she’s…’ Her perfect nose wrinkled in confusion as she compared her own willowy reflection in the mirror with Rachel’s slightly shorter, more curvy figure.
‘She’s going,’ Rachel snapped. She didn’t need the blonde to remind her of the disparity in their claims to beauty. And unlike Sabrina there was no way she could ever hope to match Benedict’s sophistication. How he must be cursing the moment of madness that had tied him to her. She could imagine how relieved he’d be when he knew that there was no need to do the ‘right thing’. His father certainly knew which buttons to press, she thought bitterly; Benedict wasn’t the most obvious candidate for old-fashioned values.
‘Not till I say so, you’re not,’ he replied in a cold, clear voice from which old-fashioned chivalry was noticeably absent.
Rachel heard a collective startled gasp and a nervous giggle, but she didn’t notice from where it had originated. Her head was filled with the dull roar of the blood pounding in her ears.
‘I’ll go when and where I like, and if you try to stop me you can…’
‘I can what?’ he goaded.
She looked around and saw that all the audience was waiting for her answer with bated breath. Well, he might not mind providing a floor show for his nearest and dearest but she did!
‘You know something, Ben? Meeting you is right up there with mumps and acne. You’re the most insensitive, self-centred, manipulative…’ She made a sound of disgust low in her throat. ‘I wouldn’t marry you if my life depended on it.’
‘What makes you think it doesn’t?’ If anything the aggressive tilt of his square jaw had grown even more pronounced.
‘You were right, Ruth. I owe you a tenner. He proposed! Well, I’ll be—’
‘Tom!’ Benedict snarled, evincing no sign of brotherly love as he swung around to face the man who’d entered the room behind him. ‘As a matter of fact I have. I’ve proposed and been refused. Thinking of offering me advice, are you?’
The eldest of the Arden brood bit back a grin and arranged his mobile features into a suitably sombre mask. ‘Actually I just came to tell Miss French—Rachel—that her lift is here.’ His green eyes sparkled with lively interest.
‘Show him in, Tom,’ Emily Arden instructed. ‘Them in,’ she corrected herself drily as the door swung open and Charlie walked in, followed at a more sedate pace by her uncle.
Charlie looked calmly around the room, completely unfazed by the unknown faces. ‘This place looks like something off a magazine cover,’ she remarked admiringly. She grinned at her mother. ‘Hi, Mum!’
‘She must be old.’ Sabrina’s chagrin was almost comical. She looked indignantly from Rachel to Charlie and back to Rachel again as if she expected to see her age before her eyes.
It was then that Charlie saw Benedict.
‘Ben!’ Her small face lit up and she ran like a heat-seeking missile straight at him.
That’s what I want to do. Rachel felt the dull pain of acknowledgement. For a split second all she felt was deep envy for the ability to display such spontaneous pleasure.
Hiding her feelings meant she had to consider every word, every gesture. The expression on Benedict’s face as he bent forward and lifted her high brought a heavy, emotional constriction to her aching throat. There could be no doubting the genuine nature of his feelings where Charlie was concerned.
His family watched with varying degrees of shock as Benedict swung the youngster up into the air before placing her back down on her feet and ruffling her halo of damp golden-blonde hair.
‘I was wondering where you were.’ He saw for the first time who had followed Charlie into the room. It was as if someone had flicked a switch. He was projecting such intense hostility, you could almost see the waves of loathing emanating from his eyes.
‘I was with Uncle Christophe.’ Charlie’s vivid blue eyes turned happily to the figure who had so far been silent. ‘We went swimming.’
‘Ah, yes, Uncle Christophe.’ His dark eyes met Rachel’s. The contempt she read there made her jaw tighten and her chin go up in automatic defiance.
He obviously thought she’d created another story to spare herself Charlie’s awkward questions, but she couldn’t squash his nasty theory without revealing the fact that she’d let him believe a lie. Her glance moved worriedly to Christophe and she wondered how the older man would respond to Ben’s hostility. She knew she only had Charlie’s presence to thank for Benedict’s restraint so far.