‘No, Lily,' said Sarah, suitably chastised but liking the role reversal.

She felt a pang of guilt. She knew she had to go to Lily's hen night, but she really didn't want to. It wasn't anything to do with Lily, more her friends. They were bound to want to do things that just made Sarah feel jaded. Still, she'd go, and probably have a brilliant time. And everyone was always saying she needed to lighten up.

‘And you're sure you gave the driver the right address?' Sarah was sitting in the car next to Hugo as they drove to Somerby. It was high summer now and the surrounding countryside was lush, in part owing to the sudden spell of rain they'd been having. Sarah prayed it would clear very soon.

‘He's got the postcode, he's got Sat Nav, and I gave him some basic directions. He'll be fine.'

‘Sat Nav does mad things sometimes.'

‘I know.'

‘And neither Mandy or Carrie will be able to help if he goes wrong.'

‘Probably not, but he won't go wrong. He'll be very experienced, professional. It'll be fine, Sarah, now relax.' Sarah exhaled loudly and looked out of the window. 'I'd feel happier if I could have sent a driver I know. If only they had given us a bit more notice.'

‘Carrie didn't know she was going to be in the country until just recently. She couldn't have known earlier.’

‘And poor Fen, having to rustle up lunch for us all. Although I suppose she has had just enough time to get in caterers, if she felt she needed to.'

‘Mm.' Hugo obviously wasn't listening. He'd heard all this several times before and knew a response wasn't really called for.

‘And what's the house going to look like in all this rain!’

Hugo glanced at her, giving her an opportunity to see his charming crooked smile. 'Wet! Now stop fretting. It's going to be fine.’

She did feel less anxious about Carrie and Mandy's last-minute visit to Somerby, to which she had been summoned, but the pang she got from Hugo's crinkled eyes and sexy mouth was not helpful. How could she react like that to him when she had so much on her mind and when she'd told herself that he was off limits? Two damn weddings on the same day should be enough to stop her having unsuitable feelings for an unsuitable man, surely? How can there possibly be space in her mind for anything except the job in hand? Her guard was weakening, she could tell. He was so attractive and so skilled at calming her fears, she found it hard not to keeping wondering, 'What if?’

And she couldn't stop thinking about his exhibition. The quality of his work, the fact that some had been sold before the show even opened, was amazing. He was so talented. And yet here he was, helping her with a wedding, albeit a celebrity wedding. Then she thought about Electra and felt down again. It wasn't only that she existed, and that he was engaged to her, but the fact that she seemed so wrong for him. He loved children: she had seen him with them, and she had seen him photograph them. And he'd just been telling her about his nephew and niece as they hit the motorway. His face lit up when he mentioned them. What was he doing with a woman who cared more about her abs than being a mother? If she thought they'd be happy together, it would be easier – possibly.

‘If only it would stop raining!' she moaned, using the rain as an excuse for her sudden despondency.

‘I think the sky is lightening over there,' he said, then switched the windscreen wipers up to full.

The house was still beautiful, thought Sarah as they came within sight of it. On a small hill, surrounded by parkland and trees, it looked like a painting, animated by raindrops falling on the leaves of the trees. There were two big black cars parked in front of the house, announcing clearly that Carrie and her entourage had arrived. Sarah had hoped she and Hugo would be first but at least the others had found the place.

Hugo stopped the car at the bottom of the drive. 'Let's just have a moment to ourselves to enjoy the stillness before we go in, shall we?' He smiled reassuringly at her and once again her stomach did a flip. Why did he always have to be so nice to her?

Sarah wound down the window. The smell of summer wafted into the car. She couldn't identify any particular scent but the mixture was wonderful. Somewhere a bird sang, a solitary sound among the gentle pit-pat of water on leaves. If she hadn't been in her smart working clothes, and had a mac or something, she would have got out and smelt the air at closer quarters, but she couldn't.

Neither of them spoke for a few minutes until Hugo said, 'Shall we go on?'

‘Not just yet.' Sarah wanted to stay in the car, listening to the gentle hiss of the rain and the bird before she had to go back to being the high-powered wedding planner she was every other minute of her life. But she couldn't do that either. She took a deep breath and said, 'We'd better get going now.’

Hugo turned the key in the ignition and they drove up to the house.

Fenella must have been listening for the car. She rushed out the moment they reached the front door and pulled open the car door before the engine had stopped. 'Thank God you're here, it's not going well. They must have whistled down here! We weren't ready really, and I got up at five.’

Fenella was looking elegant in a harassed way in silk trousers, matching top and a floaty jacket. The top was half tucked into the trousers as if she had been interrupted while dressing.

‘It'll be fine,' said Sarah, surprised at how calm she sounded. 'Don't worry. We just need to paint the picture for her.'

‘They're muttering about the condition everything is in. It's not the traditional setting Carrie wanted, and I don't know what else!'

‘Don't worry, Fen,' said Hugo, giving her a friendly hug. 'Uncle Hugo's here. He'll make everything work out.’

This did make Fenella give a little chuckle as she exchanged glances with Sarah. There was no doubt, he was a calming presence.

Carrie, Mandy and a couple of men Sarah didn't know were standing around in the dining room. Sarah could see that the floor had been covered with hardboard and painted white and looked amazing, but the room felt cold and Carrie, in a strappy top, was rubbing her arms. Mandy was similarly attired and they did not look happy. A wet summer day in England must have felt arctic to them. Sarah knew she'd have to find something for them to put on or they'd never agree to anything.

‘Oh, hi! Sarah! You're here. At last,' said Carrie, coming forward and kissing Sarah. Sarah felt her reproach – not only for suggesting this unsuitable venue but for being late. 'And Hugo!' He got a warmer reception, possibly because his arms were warm and she was cold.

‘So sorry you were kept waiting,' he said when he'd released her. 'We hit very bad traffic in Hereford.’

While Hugo was chatting to Carrie and Mandy and soothing ruffled feathers, Sarah touched Fenella's sleeve. 'You haven't got a couple of pashminas or cardigans or something for them to borrow? They won't come here if they're cold.’

Fenella hesitated only a moment. 'Pashminas. I've got loads of them. People always give them to me as presents. I'll be right back.’

As good as her word, she came back while Hugo was still making Carrie and Mandy giggle in a shameless way. 'Here, ladies, take one of these each,' she said gracefully, as if it was perfectly normal to dole out shawls in English country houses.

Carrie and Mandy were charmed and grateful. Fenella had colour coded them too.

‘Sorry,' said Hugo to the two dark-suited men, 'I'm Hugo Marsters, photographer to the stars.' He laughed to show he was being ironic. The men he was addressing didn't laugh back.

‘We're Carrie's lawyers,' said one and went on to introduce himself and his colleague. 'We're here to see Carrie doesn't get ripped off.’