And the Bride Wore Prada by Katie Oliver Page B

glance at Helen in the rear-view mirror, but he made no comment.
    ‘No,’ Helen answered, ‘I’m a writer. Freelance. I write pieces on spec for women’s magazines.’
    ‘But that’s fabulous!’ Nat exclaimed. ‘I’d no idea you were a writer.’
    Helen smiled briefly but was spared a further reply as they approached the castle. A salt-encrusted Jeep was parked before the entrance as Colm drew the Range Rover to a stop.
    ‘I wonder who that belongs to?’ Nat mused as she opened her door. ‘It looks as if it’s been through a war.’
    ‘It belongs to Archibald Campbell,’ Colm replied. ‘Tarquin’s father.’
    ‘But I thought Tark’s parents were in Corfu,’ Helen said in puzzlement.
    He shrugged. ‘They must’ve cut their holiday short.’
    ‘How odd. I wonder why they’ve come back?’ she mused as she stepped out of the car.
    ‘Not really your business, is it?’ Colm said.
    Before she could form a suitable response, he put the Range Rover in gear and drove away.
    Low but charged voices reached Helen and Natalie’s ears as Dominic opened the front door and let them in.
    ‘What’s going on?’ Nat asked. She glanced across the entrance hall and was surprised to see that the drawing room doors were firmly shut.
    ‘Tark’s parents are back, that’s what’s going on,’ Dominic hissed. ‘I came down to see what the cook had on the menu for lunch – no haggis, thank God ‒ and I was headed back upstairs when all hell broke loose.’
    ‘Why? What’s happened?’ Helen asked.
    ‘I don’t know, exactly,’ Dom confided, ‘but it’s something to do with Tark’s sister Caitlin. I heard raised voices and shouting, then Tark came down the hall and herded everyone into the drawing room and shut the doors.’
    Natalie frowned. ‘Why are they all
shouting
, if the Campbells have only just got home?’
    Her question was answered when the drawing room doors flew open and Caitlin, her face red and her eyes swollen with tears, burst into the entrance hall and launched herself towards the stairs.
    ‘Caitlin Morag Campbell, don’t you dare walk out on this conversation!’ an equally red-faced man called out after her. ‘I’m your father, damn you, and I won’t bloody have it!’
    With his ginger hair and beard bristling with anger, Tarquin’s father was an imposing figure.
    ‘Archie, please.’ A tall, attractive woman laid a hand on his sleeve as she glanced over at Natalie, Helen, and Dominic hovering uncertainly by the front door. ‘We have company.’
    ‘I’m sorry, Pen, but Caitlin and I didn’t finish this conversation.’ He shook off his wife’s hand and levelled a glare on his daughter.
    ‘It’s not a conver
sation
,’ Caitlin hurled back as she whirled around to face him, ‘it’s an inquisition! I planned to tell you both everything...but Wren went and spoiled it, like she always does.’ She shot a venomous glance at Tarquin’s wife, who stood in the hallway next to her husband. ‘She couldn’t wait to land me in trouble.’
    ‘I think you’ve done that well enough on your own.’ Tarquin scowled. ‘Wren had nothing to do with this, Caitlin. I did. I was the one who called to inform Mum and Dad, so kindly vent your spleen at me, not my wife.’ He put his arm around Wren’s shoulders in a protective gesture.
    ‘You?’ Caitlin regarded him in outrage. ‘Why? How could you, Tark? How could you
do
that to me?’
    ‘You’ve been thrown out of university,’ he said evenly. ‘What else was I to do? Mum and Dad have a right to know. They’re paying your tuition, after all.’
    ‘How did you find out?’ she demanded. ‘I never said a word to you!’
    ‘I found out purely by accident when I went on the university website looking for information for a friend. Imagine my dismay when I discovered that the Christmas holidays don’t start until the end of next week. I made a discreet enquiry and learned you’d been expelled.’
    Caitlin glared at him, then turned and