We arranged to be at my parents’ town house in good time—we needed to be at Westminster Abbey hours before the service. From there we would drive together in the family Rolls to the nearest tube station, and met with Haynsworth and Pamela at the Abbey. I was looking forward to seeing my sister. However, when we arrived at the Abbey, it was to find Haynsworth was alone.
“My lady cannot attend. Her advancing pregnancy, you understand,” he said smugly.
“Pamela was looking forward to this,” I snarled. He’d promised her.
He shrugged. “The safety of my heir is paramount, and in this my lady agrees with me.”
Smug, supercilious, superior bastard. It was all I could do not to knock him down.
“We are in public,” Father informed me, his tone sharp and tension in every line of his body. “You will not interfere.”