Pierre got up too. “I think it was the doctor—”
“Shut up; who asked you?” Nicole barely spared her a glance.
The vicious tone stunned Pierre.
Laura, now that she’d had a moment to collect herself, was much better at handling a fight. “What is it that upsets you so much?” She actually squared her shoulders. “That he is sick, or that he’s going to receive treatment?”
Nicole glanced up and down at Laura’s black jeans and black jumper. Unlike Nicole, Laura never dressed in designer clothes, at least not famous labels. “I don’t know who you think you are, the black spider?”
Someone at the table gasped, and Gabriel’s eyes widened at the offensive words.
Laura wasn’t upset, she just folded her arms across her chest. “I think it would really suit your career if he died the morning after the wedding. More news coverage.” She gave Nicole a cool smile. “Have you already planned the interviews you’ll give to the press about how you made Lord M’s last wish come true and single-handedly prolonged his life until just after they cut the cake?”
Now that Laura said it, the idea made a lot of sense. Nicole didn’t care if Lord M lived or died as long as the wedding happened. Liam whistled under his breath.
Nurse Ann had a look of sudden understanding. “You mean, you stopped us from talking to Millie this morning?”
All around the kitchen, unfriendly faces turned to Nicole.
It only made her angrier at Laura. “You’ve been nothing but trouble ever since you came here,” she hissed.
“Nic. Enough. Come on,” Gabriel said in a voice that didn’t allow argument, and he grabbed her arm and pulled her firmly towards the door.
This time Nicole let him drag her away.
He didn’t finish his dinner; his plate, still full, remained on the table looking sad and neglected. In the end, Cook made a dinner tray for two and sent it up to their room.
She came back a couple of minutes later. “Raised voices behind closed doors in Nicole’s room,” she told the rest of them who were still around the table. “That Emmet can certainly speak his mind when he’s angry.” Her lips pulled into a smug grin. “I didn’t like to interrupt him. I left the food tray outside the door.”
______
Gabriel was waiting for her at half-past-six the next morning, sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by an array of camera parts.
“Good morning.” He saluted her with a coffee mug.
“You’re not normally here this early.” She tried to hide her pleasure. After the last few days of ‘breakfast in bed,’ seeing him here made her heart feel lighter.
“What do you want for breakfast?” Cook asked, placing Gabriel’s favourite sausages under the grill.
“Porridge, please,” she said, sitting down opposite him. “Is this your breakfast?” She looked at the various lenses and other bits he had spread on the table. “Or are they going to eat with us?”
“Did you see the weather?” He glanced towards the kitchen windows. “It’s a clear spring day. If you eat fast, we can be out by seven and go to that old well you mentioned.”
The wishing well, the place where hopeful lovers made their promises to each other.
She checked her watch. “I can eat fast, but your sausages will take time to cook before you can eat.”
“He’s already eaten,” Cook said, placing a bowl brimming with fluffy porridge and a jug of cinnamon cream in front of Pierre. “He was down at six.” She hurried back to check on the sausages which were beginning to sizzle, then slid a tray of freshly baked soft rolls from the hot part of the Aga. “These are for a packed lunch for the two of you.”
Packed lunch for the two of them? She stirred honey and a handful of dried berries into her porridge, aware of the smile growing inside her heart.
“We should have nine hours of daylight,” he said. “By sunset, we’ll have been everywhere you wanted pictures for your article.”
“That explains the equipment.”
He cracked up. “Don’t you meanaccoutrements,gubbins, or what was it,thingamajigs?”
“You can’t expect me to be eloquent before breakfast.”
