Read Online And the Bride Wore Prada by Katie Oliver - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Katie Oliver
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belongs here, just as much as I do?’
The two women regarded each other in silent – and mutual – dislike. ‘I’m only saying,’ Wren said in measured tones, ‘that it might have been easier on all concerned if you hadn’t brought the dog along when you came home, that’s all.’
‘Easier on
you
, you mean.’ Scorn coloured her voice. ‘I’m sure you’d like it best if I never came home at all, wouldn’t you, Wren?’
‘That’s not true!’ Wren snapped. ‘There you go again, Caitlin, putting words in my mouth—’
‘No, I’m only putting the thoughts in your head into words, so that everyone might know how bloody
jealous
you are of me!’
‘What’s going on here? I heard the two of you shouting all the way across the hall.’
Tarquin, his face a study in anger, stood in the doorway. ‘Can’t I leave you alone with Wren for five minutes without starting trouble, Caitlin?’
His sister gathered Coco up and thrust herself to her feet. ‘Right, blame me, Tark, as you always do. But it was your wife who demanded I keep Coco in a bloody kennel!’
‘That little beast has done nothing but upset the entire household,’ Wren flung back. ‘Just like you!’
‘That’s enough.’ Although Tarquin’s words were calm, even quiet, his fury was unmistakable. ‘This isn’t the time or place for such behaviour,’ he said, eyeing both women with a flinty grey gaze. ‘We have guests to consider. Caitlin, kindly take yourself upstairs, please.’
‘What?’ she exclaimed. Hectic spots of colour rose on her cheeks. ‘Are you sending me to my room, like a...like a wayward child being packed off to bed without her supper?’
‘I’m simply asking you to remove yourself from the present company until you can behave appropriately.’
‘There’s no need for Caitlin to leave,’ Wren cut in, her voice unsteady. ‘I’ll go.’ Her gaze, bright with angry, unshed tears, swept over the assembled houseguests. ‘My apologies, everyone,’ she choked out, and left.
There was an awkward silence. No one moved or knew quite what to do or say.
Natalie got to her feet. ‘I’ll just go and check she’s all right,’ she said, and patted Tarquin’s shoulder as she hurried after her friend.
She caught up to her halfway down the long gallery. ‘Wren – wait, please.’
Wren stopped and turned around. Her face was damp and blotchy with tears. ‘Natalie.’ She groped in her pocket for a handkerchief. ‘You should be downstairs with the others.’
‘I wanted to make sure you’re all right,’ she said, and slipped a comforting arm around Wren’s shoulders. ‘That awful girl!’
With something between a sob and a laugh, Wren nodded. ‘She really is dreadful, isn’t she? Come in here, we can talk privately.’ So saying, she led Natalie into a small but charming morning room done up in shades of palest celadon and shut the door.
‘Have things always been so...strained, between you and Caitlin?’ Natalie asked hesitantly.
Wren dropped into a chair and nodded. ‘Yes. She resents my being here; she has done from the start. She’s terribly possessive of Tarquin. Things invariably go topsy-turvy whenever she’s here.’
‘Have you talked to Tark about it?’
‘Yes. But what can he do, Nat? Caitlin’s his sister. As long as he and I live here at Draemar, I have no choice but to put up with her.’ She reached out on the desk for a tissue and blew her nose. ‘At least she’s only here in the summer and during the school holidays.’
‘Have you tried talking to Caitlin?’
Wren sighed. ‘I’ve tried everything. I’ve talked to her, I’ve invited her shopping; I even helped Tarquin’s mother and father put a surprise birthday party together for her. Nothing works. She despises me. She’ll be the bane of my existence,’ she finished bitterly, ‘for all eternity.’
‘Oh, I hardly think so,’ Nat reassured her. ‘Caitlin’s young, and she’s in, what – her second year at
The two women regarded each other in silent – and mutual – dislike. ‘I’m only saying,’ Wren said in measured tones, ‘that it might have been easier on all concerned if you hadn’t brought the dog along when you came home, that’s all.’
‘Easier on
you
, you mean.’ Scorn coloured her voice. ‘I’m sure you’d like it best if I never came home at all, wouldn’t you, Wren?’
‘That’s not true!’ Wren snapped. ‘There you go again, Caitlin, putting words in my mouth—’
‘No, I’m only putting the thoughts in your head into words, so that everyone might know how bloody
jealous
you are of me!’
‘What’s going on here? I heard the two of you shouting all the way across the hall.’
Tarquin, his face a study in anger, stood in the doorway. ‘Can’t I leave you alone with Wren for five minutes without starting trouble, Caitlin?’
His sister gathered Coco up and thrust herself to her feet. ‘Right, blame me, Tark, as you always do. But it was your wife who demanded I keep Coco in a bloody kennel!’
‘That little beast has done nothing but upset the entire household,’ Wren flung back. ‘Just like you!’
‘That’s enough.’ Although Tarquin’s words were calm, even quiet, his fury was unmistakable. ‘This isn’t the time or place for such behaviour,’ he said, eyeing both women with a flinty grey gaze. ‘We have guests to consider. Caitlin, kindly take yourself upstairs, please.’
‘What?’ she exclaimed. Hectic spots of colour rose on her cheeks. ‘Are you sending me to my room, like a...like a wayward child being packed off to bed without her supper?’
‘I’m simply asking you to remove yourself from the present company until you can behave appropriately.’
‘There’s no need for Caitlin to leave,’ Wren cut in, her voice unsteady. ‘I’ll go.’ Her gaze, bright with angry, unshed tears, swept over the assembled houseguests. ‘My apologies, everyone,’ she choked out, and left.
There was an awkward silence. No one moved or knew quite what to do or say.
Natalie got to her feet. ‘I’ll just go and check she’s all right,’ she said, and patted Tarquin’s shoulder as she hurried after her friend.
She caught up to her halfway down the long gallery. ‘Wren – wait, please.’
Wren stopped and turned around. Her face was damp and blotchy with tears. ‘Natalie.’ She groped in her pocket for a handkerchief. ‘You should be downstairs with the others.’
‘I wanted to make sure you’re all right,’ she said, and slipped a comforting arm around Wren’s shoulders. ‘That awful girl!’
With something between a sob and a laugh, Wren nodded. ‘She really is dreadful, isn’t she? Come in here, we can talk privately.’ So saying, she led Natalie into a small but charming morning room done up in shades of palest celadon and shut the door.
‘Have things always been so...strained, between you and Caitlin?’ Natalie asked hesitantly.
Wren dropped into a chair and nodded. ‘Yes. She resents my being here; she has done from the start. She’s terribly possessive of Tarquin. Things invariably go topsy-turvy whenever she’s here.’
‘Have you talked to Tark about it?’
‘Yes. But what can he do, Nat? Caitlin’s his sister. As long as he and I live here at Draemar, I have no choice but to put up with her.’ She reached out on the desk for a tissue and blew her nose. ‘At least she’s only here in the summer and during the school holidays.’
‘Have you tried talking to Caitlin?’
Wren sighed. ‘I’ve tried everything. I’ve talked to her, I’ve invited her shopping; I even helped Tarquin’s mother and father put a surprise birthday party together for her. Nothing works. She despises me. She’ll be the bane of my existence,’ she finished bitterly, ‘for all eternity.’
‘Oh, I hardly think so,’ Nat reassured her. ‘Caitlin’s young, and she’s in, what – her second year at
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