‘Dad says he needs to use the flat himself on occasion,’ he told her. ‘And it would make things—awkward if you were there. And anyway he feels we should wait to live together until we’re actually married.’
Maddie had stared at him. ‘But who on earth does that nowadays?’
Jeremy shrugged. ‘I guess he’s just old-fashioned about these things.’
But Maddie was convinced ‘hypocritical’ was a better description, and would have wagered a year’s salary that his father and the glamorous Esme had been sharing a bed even while Aunt Beth was alive.
‘And what happens after the wedding?’ she asked. ‘Because, we’ll be living there then, or will your father expect me to move out any time he plans to stay overnight?’
‘No, of course not,’ he said impatiently. ‘He’s talking of taking a suite at a hotel.’ He pulled a face. ‘And, believe me, sweetie, it could be worse. When it began, Sylvester and Co was Sylvester, Felderstein and Marchetti. You could be having all sorts of foreign directors dropping in.’
‘Might have been fun,’ Maddie said lightly. ‘So why aren’t there any now?’
Jeremy shrugged again. ‘The families died out, or started new ventures of their own. That’s what Dad said, anyway. We only became fully independent in my grandfather’s day.’
Since when Nigel Sylvester had achieved success in the corridors of power, joining various government think-tanks and advising on banking and economic affairs.
So much so that, rumour had it that he would be offered a life peerage in the next New Year Honours’ List.
I wonder if he’ll expect me to call him ‘My lord’ she mused as she took the creaky elevator to her office on the first floor. Or curtsy when we meet. While Esme will be even more insufferable when she’s Lady Sylvester.
But I’ll deal with that when I have to, she told herself. For now, I’m concentrating on this dream assignment that’s come my way.
Italy in May, she thought with an ecstatic sigh. Boy, I can hardly wait.
CHAPTER TWO
IT WASN’T UNTIL the plane had taken off that Maddie really believed she was going to Italy.
In view of the events of the past ten days, she would hardly have been surprised if Nigel Sylvester had found some way to have her bodily removed from the aircraft.
It had all come to a head over dinner at the company flat. She had believed with pleasurable anticipation that she and Jeremy would be alone, and was shaken to find his father and Esme waiting for her too, with Mr Sylvester telling her, with his thin-lipped smile, ‘We feel we should all get to know each other a little better, Madeleine.’
Heart sinking, as she realised Jeremy was avoiding her gaze, she’d replied, ‘By all means,’ and accepted the dry sherry she was offered.
Conversation had been light and general over dinner, but she’d only picked at the excellent meal, cooked by the housekeeper Mrs Palmer, and watched with trepidation as the good woman was thanked and dismissed once the coffee and brandy were on the table.
The door had barely closed behind her when Esme leaned forward. ‘I think, Madeleine, if the men will forgive us boring them with feminine affairs, we need to discuss your wedding dress as a matter of urgency.’
Maddie put down her coffee cup, bewildered. ‘But that’s all in hand.’
Mrs Sylvester’s arched brows lifted. ‘Indeed? I am not sure I understand.’
‘I’ve chosen my dress and it’s already being made by Janet Gladstone, who owns the bridal shop in the village. You must have seen it.’
‘Not that I recall.’ Esme’s tone suggested she had not noticed the High Street either. ‘And, anyway, I’ve made an appointment for you with Nina FitzAlan in three days’ time.’ Her smile was complacent. ‘As I’m a favoured client she has agreed to drop everything in order to supply us with a gown of her own exclusive design. But there is no time to be lost.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ Maddie said evenly. ‘But I’m afraid I can’t possibly alter my arrangements, especially as Aunt Fee and Uncle Patrick are paying for my dress, and those of the bridesmaids.’
‘And naturally you feel that a top London designer is beyond their reach, financially.’ The older woman nodded. ‘Well, don’t concern yourself about that. Nina’s bill, of course, will be sent to me. There is no need for your aunt and uncle to be bothered.’
‘But they will be bothered. And so will I. Very much so.’ Maddie ignored Jeremy’s pleading glance from the other side of the table. ‘Because I’m getting exactly what I want. White wild silk embroidered with silver flowers. I’ve already had two fittings, and it’s going to be beautiful.’
Esme allowed herself the small, tinkling laugh that made Maddie’s teeth ache. ‘I don’t think you have quite grasped, my dear, that you are dressing for a very important occasion. And a village-made frock, however pretty, just will not do.’
She paused. ‘So we will have a preliminary meeting with Nina at ten thirty on Thursday, after which you will hold yourself available for fittings at her salon whenever required.
‘And as you’ve mentioned bridesmaids,’ she went on. ‘Perhaps this is the time to say that while I admire your loyalty in wanting your flatmates Sally and—Tracey, is it …’
‘Trisha,’ said Maddie.
‘I think I told you.’ Esme swept on, ‘that Nigel would like his godsons’ little ones to be your attendants. Two pigeon pairs—so convenient—and, I thought, in Victorian dress. Those charming caps for the boys, and frilly pantaloons for the little girls.’
Maddie’s hands were clenched tightly in her lap. ‘And I think I made it clear that I would not, under any circumstances, have very small children following me up the aisle. Especially ones I have never met, but, I gather, are barely potty-trained. Which,’ she added, ‘would make me fear for the pantaloons. Besides, Sally and Trisha are old college friends as well as my flatmates, so they will be my bridesmaids—the only ones.’
She paused. ‘And, as, I’m going to be working abroad shortly, I couldn’t be available for fittings with Ms Fitz Alan, even if I wanted to.’
‘On the contrary,’ said Nigel Sylvester in a tone which made Maddie feel she’d been stranded naked on a polar ice cap. ‘I think it is full time you recognised that you have responsibilities to my son that far outweigh your obligations to this—tin-pot job of yours, and hand your company a week’s notice.’
Maddie lifted her chin. ‘And you must also recognise I have no intention of abandoning my career.’
‘Career?’ he repeated almost meditatively. ‘I think, my child, that you’re deluding yourself.’
He then proceeded to deal quite mercilessly with her qualifications, her abilities and her ambitions, holding them up to ridicule, and dismissing them with quiet contempt, and all of it uttered with a smile like a naked blade held to her skin.
While all she could do was sit, head bent, in silence until it was over.
‘How could you?’ she flared at Jeremy when they were back in her own flat and alone, Sally and Trisha having taken a swift look at her white face and blazing eyes and tactfully disappeared to bed. ‘I thought we’d already dealt with this. So how could you just sit there and let him speak to me—treat me like that?’
‘I’ve told you time and again how he feels about working wives,’ Jeremy said unhappily. ‘And I’ve also tried to explain how Dad sees the importance of this wedding.’
She was about to hit back when