Just Like Her

Chapter 62

Emma

"And where is Tom today?"

I couldn't help but fidget under her inquisitive gaze. "Off playing rugby-with Charlie, I think."

Margaret nodded politely as she reached for her teacup.

I mimicked her movement and reached for my own steaming cup as I mentally reached for something to say in response.

We had arranged to meet a quarter past three that afternoon, but, of course, I had been so terrified of running late that I showed up a whole twenty minutes early. Luckily, the café had reserved a private room for the two of us and was able to seat me immediately.

Margaret, when she arrived, glided into the room perfectly on time in an immaculate crème skirt suite. I smiled tightly and stood to greet her, and I was half surprised when she brushed a kiss on my cheek before taking her seat.

It struck me then, as the waiter gracefully tucked in her chair, what an utterly absurd idea this had been.

She was the bloody Duchess of Cambridge and I was an unemployed wannabe writer with the grand plan to... pepper her with questions seeking relationship advice?

And when it was her own husband who was making Tom's life a living hell at work to boot?

In that moment, I couldn't decide who was more mental: me for inviting her, or the Dutchess herself for accepting.

Twenty minutes of stifled small talk later, I still wasn't sure.

"And Robert?" I reciprocated, my own voice sounding slightly feeble.

She merely shrugged, seeming to not notice. "I can hardly keep up with my own diary. My assistants have copies of his schedule, of course, but I can never keep it all straight."

I nodded, my eyes dancing around the ornate table settings searching in vain for a source of inspiration.

"I've never had a good sense of time," she admitted after a minute.

I blinked in surprise. "Really?"

Her smile was kind. "Took me ages to learn as a child, even now I still can barely tell an analog clock."

I blinked again and the glowing Duchess of Cambridge suddenly disappeared, replaced by the woman whose champagne I had drunk.

My grin was slow in coming, but when it finally did arrive I knew Margaret felt it and the larger shift in the air between us as she put down her teacup and said simply: "Cynthia likes you."

I shrugged. "She's rather easy to please."

"No," Margaret laughed somewhat ruefully, "she isn't. Believe me, her favor is hard won."

"Well..." I tried, not quite sure what to say. "Perhaps she feels invested? I met her on Tom and my's first date."

Margaret's eyes bulged in shock. "You didn't."

I laughed and then nodded in dramatic resignation. "Tom invited me to a cocktail party for one of the charities he works for."

Margaret made a "tsk" noise, so I continued.

"I didn't know who she was a first," I confessed.

"He didn't introduce you?" she asked incredulously.

I bit my lower lip and shook my head, revealing in my newfound sense of camaraderie.

Margaret nearly cackled at that. "I can only imagine the impression she gave."