A Roll in the Hay, стр. 50

“Thank you again for doing this,” Susannah said, startled when Tess came around to the driver’s side and opened the door for her first. How chivalrous. “I know I said this was about work,” she continued as Tess got into the passenger seat.

“I understand,” Tess replied, her jaw working a little. “I can be just your regular gal pal until we’re away from the crowds.”

“No, no,” Susannah held off on starting the engine, reaching across to touch Tess’s cheek, turning her head slightly so they were looking at each other. “I’m done with hiding, Tess. My father is gone, Jimmy doesn’t need my discretion, and you will be the envy of every man or woman at this event tonight. I want to walk in there with you on my arm, and I want to show you off.”

“And that’s not a problem for you? For the business? Because I am more than proud to be on your arm tonight, Lady Karlson. Just say the word, and I’m all yours.”

“Good,” Susannah denied herself the brief pleasure of a kiss. The build of anticipation would only make it sweeter. “Then let’s go make our official debut.”

Susannah wasn’t expecting the flurry of photographers. It turned out that beyond the local paper and some bloggers, there was also a press contingent down from Edinburgh because a couple of senior politicians were in attendance, both from Holyrood and Westminster. She was more than used to the glad-handing, but having those bigwigs suck up attention might affect her access to the councillors she needed to secure votes from.

“You look like you’re plotting,” Tess said, bringing Susannah a glass of soda and lime along with her own whisky. “If it’s a hit list, can we start with the barman who keeps calling this ‘scotch’? It’s like he doesn’t know what side of the border we’re on. The cheek of it.”

“Oh, that definitely goes on my list.” Susannah looked around the hotel ballroom, festooned with strands of sparkling fairy lights and dotted with huge bouquets. It was beautiful, almost romantic, but she couldn’t help thinking they’d have raised more for charity if they had hired a village hall instead of blowing the budget of a mid-sized wedding.

“Found your targets yet?”

“No, but the last person in the world I wanted to see just walked in.”

Tess followed Susannah’s discreet nod back towards the ballroom entrance. At first glance it had just been the usual small sea of old white men in poorly-secured bow ties, but there was no mistaking when the sea parted and Susannah laid eyes on Robin.

Susannah had to concede that her sister-in-law was somewhat dressed for the occasion, although judging by the blue velvet dress with puffy sleeves, Robin seemed to think the occasion was Princess Diana’s wedding.

“Will she make a scene?” Tess moved closer, slipping a protective arm around Susannah’s waist before freezing with her hand an inch from the red silk covering Susannah’s hip. “Because it’s okay if this changes your plans about public dating.”

“To hell with that.” Susannah pushed Tess’s hand into place and turned in her easy half-embrace to press against her front. It was almost a dance move.

“Are you going to kiss me?” Tess’s face turned quite serious.

For a moment, Susannah couldn’t hear the music or the muted chatter of the room. There was just that bubble for the two of them, Tess staring up at her with an unspoken challenge behind her question, the same challenge that a handful of other women had issued in one way or another over the years, a call for Susannah to be brave, to finally admit to herself, and everyone around her, who she was and what she wanted. It was, in every way that mattered, a moment of truth. And Susannah was exhausted from too many years of lying.

“Thought I might.” With the simple act of a kiss, she finally laid the ghost of her parents’ disapproval to rest, throwing it on a bonfire along with Robin’s and that of anyone else who dared to dislike it. Susannah couldn’t really get at Tess’s hair in order to muss it up, but she could lay a hand on her cheek while drawing her in for a soft, slow, almost chaste kiss.

But there really wasn’t anything chaste about the way Tess kissed. Her grip tightened momentarily, and Susannah’s brain offered a vision of being hoisted up on the nearest table, glasses shattering as they were shoved roughly out of the way.

Those pleasant daydreams came to an end when Robin approached. She must have marched straight across the dance floor, which wasn’t really populated yet despite the small band in the corner giving their very best take on ABBA’s back catalogue. Clichéd perhaps, but worthy of some dancing all the same.

“And what kind of spectacle is this?” Robin’s jewellery was practically rattling at her throat and at her ears. “If you think you can come here and embarrass my brother’s memory by parading around some…some…”

“Woman?” Susannah filled in for her. “Robin Karlson, this is Dr Tess Robinson. Tess, this is the infamous Robin. I think she thought she’d have the councillors to herself tonight so she can continue her campaign of harassment against me.”

Robin raised her hand to point at Susannah—one of those rude, stabbing gestures beloved of headmistresses and arguing drunks. Tess took a step forward, and Robin wheeled around to glare at her.

“Oh, no you bloody don’t,” Susannah warned, inserting herself between Robin and Tess like a human shield. “You lay a finger on Tess and you really will regret it.”

“We’d prefer that nobody make a scene,” Tess sounded every bit as capable of standing up for herself.

Robin wrinkled her nose, probably at the sound of Tess’s broad Scottish accent, not a hint of poshness about it. Susannah tamped down an uneasy recollection of how many times she’d also made similar unsubtle judgements.

“I’m a valued supporter of this organisation,” Robin said, although Susannah had it on good authority that Robin’s so-called position as