When Robins Appear (Book 3)

Chapter Three

After Nicholas and I stepped - or rather tripped - out of the Valentine house an hour and a half later, I was feeling light-headed from the claret.

When we made our way down the steps from the verandah, I  was thankful for Nicholas' quick reflexes, grabbing my arm as I stumbled down the last step, preventing me from falling flat on my face.

I snorted, finding my clumsiness amusing. "Thanks, honey."

"You, my dear, have consumed a little too much alcohol," he stated, deciding it was in my best interest to not release my arm just yet.

"I have not," I argued. "I only had one glass."

"Ah, no. It seemed like you only had one glass as you never saw the bottom of it. Did you not see Mr. Valentine topping it up every ten minutes until I put a stop to it?"

"Oh. Whoopsie." I laughed, finding it hilarious that Mr. Valentine got me drunk. "And it's not even lunchtime yet. He is so cool. My dad would never let me-"

"Tilly!" Isabella screeched nearby, making me wince.

"God, she is so loud," I whined, tucking my head under his armpit. "Hide me, Nicholas."

"Shh," Nicholas hushed me, trying so hard to stifle his laughter.

My head popped back out from his underarm. "Oh noes. Did I ask Mr. Valentine the question that I was supposed to ask? Something about her and something else..." I trailed off, seemingly suffering from temporary memory loss.

"No, you didn't, but it was a little difficult to ask questions of any sort when he wouldn't stop talking about our wedding."

"Ugh, Mr. Valentine can be such a busybody! But, shh, don't tell him I said that."

He got to the point where he could no longer contain his laughter. "You become very honest when you're intoxicated, Matilda."

"Whatever, Nicholas," I retorted, childishly emphasising his name. "And I prefer to be called Tilly."

"I know you do. But you love it when I call you Matilda, don't you?" he asked, testing out my honest-when-drunk theory.

"I do," I answered honestly, leaning my head against his shoulder. "I love you so much, Nicholas," I added, puckering my lips and reaching up behind his neck to pull him down for a kiss. But he resisted, removing my hand from his neck, then sheepishly smiled at Isabella and Robbie, who were standing in front of us.

How long had they been there?

"Not now, darling," he said, and I pouted like a child. "We have company."

"Are you all right, Tilly?" Isabella asked. "You don't seem yourself."

"She's fine," Nicholas answered for me. "Your father may have given her a little too much claret, that's all."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Claret? At this time of day? I take it that means my father was pleased with your announcement, then?"

"He was, yes," Nicholas answered once more.

"I see." She pursed her lips and forced a smile. "That is good news for you two. I suppose Father has already made suggestions about when, where and whom should be invited to your wedding?"

"He did make a few suggestions, yes," Nicholas replied, not letting me get a word in. "But we informed him it is early days and we will make our own arrangements when we are ready."

She huffed. "And I'm sure he listened to you," she said in a sarcastic tone. She knew her father well.

I wasn't drunk enough to know she wasn't happy that Mr. Valentine took our news so well. She was jealous.