Carmel looked at her. She might as well have added, ‘As you will never be,’
Emma went on, ‘Most have known Paul since their nursery years and they are members of the tennis club, or yachting club or sometimes both. Do you play tennis, Carmel, or have you any experience of sailing?’
Carmel’s eyes narrowed for she realised what Emma was doing and could do or say nothing about it without making an almighty fuss. But she wasn’t going to allow her to talk to her in that supercilious way and get away with it.
‘You must know, Mrs Connolly, that I would have little experience of either of those pastimes.’
‘But you see, my dear, I don’t,’ Emma said. ‘In fact, I don’t know the least thing about you and that is quite worrying because we really need to ascertain whether you are the right sort of wife for Paul.’
‘The right sort of wife?’ Carmel echoed.
‘Yes, one that will help him, enhance his career. Believe me, the right wife can make all the difference to a man’s prospects.’
They loved each other. Did that count for nothing? ‘Isn’t it up to Paul who he marries?’ she asked Emma. ‘Paul and I love each other and—;’
‘D’you know, there is a great deal of nonsense spoken of love?’ Emma said disparagingly. ‘Left to myself I would never have married Jeff. I fancied myself in love with a most unsuitable man and really I wasn’t all that keen on Jeff at all. It was my father who advised me to make a play for him. The other man could never have provided for me as Jeff has, and we get on well enough together. I never gave the other man a moment’s thought, for love, you see, fades and it is a very unstable base to build a marriage on that is to last a lifetime.’
Jeff appeared beside Emma before Carmel could think up a reply. ‘Come, my dear, don’t monopolise Carmel all evening. I want her to meet Matthew.’
Carmel had never met Paul’s brother before and he welcomed her with a bow and then, in a voice dripping with charm, commented on her small stature, her luxuriant hair, her absolute beauty so that soon he had her blushing. He kissed her hand with a flourish, but the hand was held a little too tightly, and the kiss went on too long, and when Carmel tried to pull away she couldn’t, or at least not without making a fuss. It made her feel uneasy.
Later she saw him walk across to Paul and, after looking pointedly in her direction, said something to him in French. Paul was annoyed with him and Carmel didn’t need to understand French to know his retort was angry. Matthew was not the slightest bit abashed and had a smirk on his face as he shrugged and moved off.
Carmel longed to ask what Matthew had said, but the party was too crowded to do that without being overheard, and Paul too much in demand to slip away. Anyway, she told herself, Paul had dealt with it. It was likely nothing at all, but she couldn’t help wishing that the party was over and she was back in her room at the hospital where she felt so at ease and could really be herself.
Things got worse when the gong was struck, alerting everyone that the food was ready to be served.
‘We are eating in the supper room,’ Paul said, as he crossed to stand at Carmel’s side.
‘The supper room?’ she repeated, never having heard of such a place. Then, when she glimpsed the room they were to eat in, her mouth dropped open in amazement.
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