by Lisa Norato
“Oh, hello, Neil,” William greeted. “’Course, I wouldn’t mind. Actually, what d’you say you hold your iguana while Babette and I stand alongside? Sallie here is a professional photographer. Perhaps she’d be kind enough to do the honors.”
William handed Marcella his armload of free eats to hold. So, while he posed and Sallie shot, Marcella’s eyes refocused until she could see clear enough to notice someone else about to join them.
Emma.
Immediately, Marcella straightened, doing her best to look glamorous and chic while holding a casserole of cold potatoes.
With such a clear view, she couldn’t help but give Emma the once-over. She was dressed in a gray A-line skirt that ended at the knee and a fine-gauged knit top of pastel blue. Neat, conservative, ho-hum, but then in all fairness, the woman was dressed for church. Her figure wasn’t half bad. But of course, anyone with an ounce of fashion sense knew a wrap top was breast-enhancing. She guessed Emma to be about … hmm, in those kitten heels, five-foot-seven or thereabouts.
Emma caught her staring and met the gaze undaunted. With each step she drew closer, her red hair gleamed with golden highlights. Definitely color enhanced. She wore a side part, bangs swept across one eye.
At last, they stood face to face.
Overall, Emma’s were simple features, but packaged with her confident air, a sexy hairstyle and pretty green eyes, she could hardly be written off as unattractive. Not the sophisticate Marcella was, but Emma definitely had something, her own je ne sais quoi that a girl couldn’t help but twinge with jealousy over.
In an attempt to be magnanimous, Marcella greeted Emma with a cheery, “Hi.”
In return, Emma gave her no more than an amused nod before turning away. “Well, William, I’m off. I’ve Quincy in his cat carrier waiting in the car, but I didn’t want to leave without saying a proper goodbye.” She reached on tiptoes and dropped a peck on his cheek.
Marcella was hoping she’d make an uneventful exit, but Emma stepped back and turned an appraising gaze on her and Sallie. “Aren’t you going to introduce us, William? I’m dying to meet your new friends.”
“It’d be my pleasure.” William did the honors, playing up the magazine and Marcella’s and Sallie’s “posh” careers in New York, then briefly explaining how they’d all met yesterday at his Aunt Lynne’s wedding.
Marcella shifted her culinary burden to one side and offered Emma her hand. “It’s really nice to meet you.” Which was totally true, because otherwise, she might have gone on wondering forever.
“I’m a fan,” Sallie interjected.
Marcella wanted to roll her eyes. Pleease. As far as she knew, Sallie had tuned in to Emma’s style makeover show for the first time last night and she’d fallen asleep halfway through.
Emma sent Sallie a warm, appreciative smile. “Thank you, Sallie. So, you’ve only a short holiday here in England, then? With all the shops and sights around London, William must have made quite the impression, for you and Marcella to come visit his church.”
She turned pointedly to Marcella for an answer.
Marcella felt William’s eyes on her as well, and she turned to him with her response. “Originally, we did have other plans for tea at the Savoy.”
“The Savoy?” Emma cried. “How fab! I know their head chef.”
“Marcella made reservations months ago,” Sallie added with a note of longing. “We bought hats.”
“Hats?” Emma’s gaze darted to the large hat hanging by Marcella’s side and understanding seemed to dawn. She gave a slow grin. “Oh, I see.”
Clutching her Italian-inspired designer millinery proudly, Marcella continued, “Yes, well, after meeting William yesterday, Sallie and I changed our minds. I couldn’t imagine leaving England without—”
“William, you old bastard! It’s been yonks!”
The shout cut across the churchyard. Midsentence, Marcella whirled towards the voice, along with the others. Addressing one’s vicar as a bastard on Sunday morning was about as decorous as … well, as her tempting him with a purple condom the Saturday night before.
A husky, chisel-faced blonde with a buzz cut was fast approaching their little group in what was proving to be one interruption after another.
Catching her eye, William consoled her with an apologetic smile before turning his attention to the man whom he was straining to recognize. “Derek?”
“Will Stafford! Good to see you, mate.” Derek grabbed hold of the hand William extended and pumped like a maniac.
“It has been a long time, hasn’t it?”
As they drew apart, Derek gave William the once-over. “Bugger me, look at you. You really are a vicar, aren’t you? I’ve a post with the Foreign Service, myself. Was in the neighborhood, visiting my sister Judy and her family. Judy Chadwick of your parish. You know the Chadwicks. When she mentioned the name of her vicar, I had to pop round and see for myself. So, the Anglicans have really accepted you as one of their leaders, have they?”
“Six years now. Marcella, Sallie, this is Derek Granger, an old mate of mine from university. We rowed on the same team. Derek, you remember Emma?”
“Emma Parker? ’Course, I do.” With a slightly confused frown, he ping-ponged his gaze between Emma and William, eventually settling on Emma. “You two never married? No, didn’t think so. Oh well, hello, Emma. Good to see you. Say, I heard you’re on the telly now. D’you know Nigella Lawson, then?”
Emma gave him a dull stare. “Uh-no, I’m afraid we’ve never actually met.”
Snorting a laugh, Derek shot William a look. “Here, who needs Nigella when you’ve got beauties like this lot by your side, yeah?”
William gave a strained smile. Hmm, tough one, Marcella thought. As a vicar, it would be crude to agree. William hadn’t joined the church to seduce women with his clerical collar. But, as a man who’d been romantic with two of the three so-called beauties, how could he honestly say no?
Lucky for William, Derek was a high-energy kind of guy, a windbag who talked so fast William didn’t have time to gather breath for a verbal response before he was jabbering again.
“Not that Will here was one to chase the girls. Nah, didn’t need to. They sort of gravitated to him, d’you know what I mean? Then he switched to theology. Wants to be a vicar, he says. We thought he’d gone mad. Barking. Reckon you thought so, too, yeah, Emma?”
Brows drawn, Emma opened her mouth. Derek gave William a knowing wink without pausing for her reply and said, “Knew what you were doing all along, didn’t you, mate? Always were more clever than the lot of us, you old bugger. Hey, nice dog. Hi, doggie.”
Marcella felt exhausted listening to him. Out the corner of one eye, she spotted someone hurrying towards them.
A woman in a ponytail stepped up beside Derek and offered William a breathless greeting. “Vicar.”
“Judy, hello.” Relief poured over William’s features.
She gave him a small, embarrassed smile.
Derek peeked at her over his shoulder before punching William on the arm. “Say, come for dinner, Will? Judy doesn’t mind one more, d’you, love?” He snatched a cherry tomato off the top of the basket Marcella was still holding and popped it into his mouth, then flicked his brows at her while he chewed.
“The vicar knows he’s always welcome in our home, Derek,” Judy said firmly, imploring William with an apologetic look.
“Thank you, Judy, that’s very kind, but I rather think I already have plans for lunch,” William begged off, casting Marcella a hopeful glance.
Moi? Marcella thought excitedly and beamed him back a you-most-certainly-do smile.
“Perhaps another time, then, Derek?” William wrapped an arm around his old classmate and started to walk him off. “We’ve a lot to catch up on. Excuse us a moment please, ladies.”
Marcella watched them stride off, Babette keeping pace in a weightless gait alongside, and breathed a sigh of relief. “The characters a vicar has to put up with, huh?”
&
nbsp; “A vicar’s wife, as well, I’d imagine,” Emma announced to no one in particular, but of course Marcella knew she was directing the remark at her. “If you fancy life with a vicar, best to find out beforehand what you’re in for.”
Marcella could hardly believe what she was hearing. Her ears rang with the audacity. “I beg your pardon.”
Emma maintained an aloof, nonchalant manner. “Just surmising here, but I’ve got the impression you and William are quite interested in each other. Am I correct?”
Marcella looked straight into Emma’s cool green eyes. “Not subtle, are you?”
“You’ve never seen my show?”
“I have,” Sallie said.
Marcella remained undecided about Emma. Although any vibes she sensed were definitely nonthreatening. Sallie seemed to like her. All right, she thought. What did she have to lose by being honest?
“Okay, I know William and I only met yesterday, but I really like him. He’s special. He told me you two were once engaged, but it’s over, right?”
“Oh, totally. Nothing romantic going on, but we have remained friends, obviously. I’m certain William must’ve told you so himself. But then, of course, I understand your need to hear it from me.”
“Not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here?”
“Marcella, that is rude.” Sallie shook her head.
Emma merely grinned with a twinkle in her eye. “Quite simply, I’m a very great animal lover.”
“Me too,” Sallie said.
Emma turned a smile on Sallie, and Marcella thought she witnessed a certain kinship ignite between them.
“I’m also a vegan. I s’pose you could call me somewhat of an advocate.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Sallie said. “I’m a vegan, too.”
“Excuse me, Emma,” Marcella interrupted before she and Sallie started swapping recipes. “I’m not clear on what this has to do with you and William?”
“Long ago, I encouraged William, should he ever have a church of his own, to include a blessing of the animals as part of his services. I come every year to help out and lend my support. To the cause of animals, of course. Nothing more.”
“I think Emma has a point, Marcella,” Sallie said.
“Which is?”
“Which is, if you are falling for William, it’s now or never to discover the kind of life you’d be in for.”
“He’d make the most wonderful husband. Loyal and attentive. If you’ve got what it takes to be a vicar’s wife, that is,” Emma challenged. “The role does come with its own responsibilities.”
“Marcella’s a crack at responsibility,” Sallie championed. “She’d make an excellent vicar’s wife.”
Emma looked intrigued. “Would she really, Sallie? And why is that, d’you s’pose?”
“Hey,” Marcella started to protest, then on second thought, held her tongue. She was reeling at the turn this absurd discussion had taken, but she was even more fascinated to hear what Sallie intended to say.
“Marcella was raised in a small Italian neighborhood with strong family values. Where she’s from, gathering with family and friends is a big deal. She may have left home for the big city, but she’s based her career on the domestic arts — food, entertaining, decorating. She was practically raised in a restaurant; she can handle the masses. She has the cooking skills to put a new spin on church suppers. Not to mention the creativity and editing skills to kick a church newsletter up to new heights. One of the things that makes Marcella such a great editor is her ability to always remain prepared for anything and stay in control. Marcella’s all about organization, and when she needs to, believe me, she can be a total shrew on the phone.”
This was why she loved her best friend. “Thank you, Sallie,” Marcella said, completely blown away, “that was beautiful.”
“Well, she certainly has the skills, but is becoming a vicar’s wife something Marcella cares to do with her life?” Emma turned to her pointedly and left the challenge hanging in the air.
Excellent question, Marcella thought. Selfishly, she had to admit, she’d been feeling a tad impatient with everyone demanding William’s attention. Was she being unreasonable to want him all to herself? She was quickly beginning to realize that being a part of William’s life would require sacrifice.
Chapter 10
The moment Marcella saw William returning she welcomed him with a smile.
The guy was dressed in a long black cassock, and still, he came off as irresistible. Go figure. Nothing, and surprisingly not even those vestments, detracted from his appeal. If anything, they lent him a regal, mysterious air. The skirt of his cassock flowed around his legs as he walked, and that whole, dark monochromatic look accentuated his striking height and bearing. Sexiest of all was his pleasantly approachable aura. A faithful dog at his side didn’t hurt either.
Whatever she’d been expecting, watching William play out his vicar’s role this morning had not, to any degree, cooled down her love jones.
Yes, Emma’s question rattled her brain. Yes, she found the challenge of a serious relationship with a vicar daunting, but it wasn’t anything that hadn’t been acknowledged in her earlier conversation with Sallie.
As he approached, William held out his hands to relieve her of the casserole and basket of tomatoes. “Sorry to have left you with this haul.”
“No problem.” They exchanged a smile as Marcella passed him her burden, soaking up his masculine chi, like warmth from the sun.
As far as she was concerned, it was way too premature to panic. Not when she and William hadn’t been able to agree on a solution for working out a long-distance relationship. What they needed was time alone.
William apologized for the interruption. “So, what did you ladies find to talk about, then, while I was off?” His eyes glittered affectionately over Marcella’s face.
She shrugged one bare shoulder. “Nothing.”
William dipped his head closer to hers. “Er, you didn’t happen to mention me…while you were saying nothing?”
She felt her flesh warm under his gaze. They were making inane small talk. Yet something in William’s tone and the intense look in his eyes made her skin prickle. “I might have.”
“’Course, I can’t speak for you, Sallie,” came Emma’s voice in a sharp tone, “but I don’t find it the least bit awkward watching William and Marcella eye each other up as though we weren’t standing here a’tall.”
William’s head snapped up with a start. Marcella shook herself, then watched as William turned an embarrassed grin on Emma and Sallie. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude.”
“I was enjoying the show,” Sallie admitted with a giggle. She stole a secretive smile at Marcella. “You two really make a striking couple. Look at you, William. All in black. Marcella’s decked out in white. William, you’ve got classic features. Marcella’s are more exotic. You’re very yin and yang-y together.”
“Oh, right,” Emma said thoughtfully. “A bit like two extremely tall chess pieces, aren’t they?”
William shot her a glare, which seemed to amuse Emma. Marcella smiled. It was becoming increasingly clear she didn’t have anything to worry about where Emma was concerned. Whatever Emma and William may have shared in the past, their current relationship was no more intimate than a pair of clowning siblings.
“Uh, shouldn’t you be off, Em?” William queried. “You’ve Quincy waiting in the car, as I recall.”
“He’ll be fine for another minute or so.”
“Right.” William’s tone was resigned, but turning, he brightened considerably. “So, Marcella, Sallie — since you’ve chucked your plans to attend service instead, I hope I can convince you both to stick round a bit longer and accompany me home for Sunday lunch. I’ve a pot of mash and cherry tomatoes. Totally vegan, Sal.”
Marcella had been expecting an offer like this ever since William had turned down Derek’s invitation. Lunch at William’s bachelor pad. Or to quote his mom, that “beaut
iful stone cottage where he lived with no wife.” Perfetto. She couldn’t wait to check it out. “We’d love to join you for lunch, wouldn’t we, Sallie?”
She cast Sallie a stony stare in hopes her friend would show enthusiasm. William was, after all, making an effort to assure Sallie didn’t feel like a third wheel.
“Sure,” Sallie responded on queue. “We’d love it.”
It was obvious from her dull expression, she was ready to bolt.
Marcella was prepared. “I have an idea. Forget the reheated hash. I’ll cook. Pasta!” Sallie loved pasta.
Sallie’s eyes gleamed and Marcella complimented herself on her quick creative thinking, before turning to see William’s reaction. He looked a little dazed. Could he be overwhelmed by her generosity? “You did say you have a vegetable garden, right?”
He nodded cautiously. But hey, was that a grin forming on those delicious lips?
“I make a mean pasta primavera,” she boasted.
“Excellent. Pasta primavera.” He all but drooled. “I mean, fantastic, Marcella, but I couldn’t ask you to—
“Of course you can! It sounds brilliant, smashing, but shall I offer one additional suggestion?”
All eyes turned to Emma, who beamed back confidently, Marcella wondering what she could possibly have in mind when she hadn’t even been invited.
Emma focused on Sallie. “What say you and I pop over to the Savoy, and leave these two singletons alone to spend the afternoon cooking up whatever? You do have reservations, I believe. Shame to waste them. We’ll natter over a pot of tea, maybe hit the shops. I have a car. I can drop you round your hotel afterwards. What’d you say, Sallie?”
Sallie’s face blossomed with joy. “Awesome. You wouldn’t mind? I wouldn’t want to put you out.” She eyed Emma skeptically. “I mean, you hardly know me.”
“Well, yes, I s’pose it’s true we’ve only just met, but I know William and you know Marcella. Surely, that’s worth a good gossip?”
Sallie’s smile returned. “Okay, let’s dish. Thanks, Emma, I’d love to come shopping with you. You don’t mind, do you, Marcella?”