“I know everything.” It was her turn to pause. “Actually, Cait knows everything. She saw him heading in this direction last night.”
“It was an accident?”
“Him being seen or him being here?” She grinned, her eyes twinkling in the same playful way that Hugo’s did. “Have either of you truly thought this through?”
“I can’t speak for him, but I know I’ve thought it over one million times and deduced it’s a terribly bad idea, so that’s why I keep doing it.”
“I thought as much.” She paused. “Mum thinks he’s seeing someone. I spoke to Rupert this morning on the phone, and he overheard her asking Nancy to see if she can find out anything.”
Why was it always fucking Nancy?
“Have you told Hugo?”
“He’s been on one of the farms all morning. I haven’t had a chance to speak with him yet.” She shifted uncomfortably. “You’re both going to have to be extremely careful if you continue this for the rest of your time here. If Nancy finds out you’re the one he’s spending his time with, I don’t doubt she’ll tell Mum everything.”
An uncomfortable feeling formed in the pit of my stomach.
Hugo and I had to stop this. I’d solved the problem of Camilla, but now Nancy was an issue. This was the only way to make sure everyone got out of this situation unscathed.
We’d only slept together twice. It didn’t mean anything. It was only sex.
Until I saw the look in his eye when he found out that Henry had asked me to dinner.
That was not a look of a man who was only in it for the sex.
It mirrored the way I imagined I’d looked at the thought of his mum setting him up with someone else.
I had some very real feelings for Hugo, but it didn’t matter. They were misplaced and misguided, and they had to disappear now.
“I’ll put an end to it,” I told her, meeting her gaze. “With Camilla not coming, it’s for the best.”
Helena tilted her head to the side. “For who?”
I couldn’t answer that.
***
“That’s not the table layout.” I looked at the plan Hugo and I had finalised what felt like one thousand times. “This is the layout and the seating plan.”
Lucy, the woman in charge of decorating the ballroom, took it from me. “That’s not the one I have.”
“The one you have is wrong,” I replied. “This is the only seating plan and the one that should have been sent to you. In fact, I sent it to you.”
“Yes, but I received an email yesterday from your assistant saying the plan had changed and we needed less table decorations.” She motioned to the pile of boxes behind her. “Less table decorations.”
“My assistant?” I blinked at her. Camilla. Be Camilla. “I don’t have staff. I’m the only person who works for me.”
She frowned. “I definitely got an email from someone who said they worked with you.”
I took a deep breath. “Who was it?”
“They said they were assisting you in the preparations and that you’d requested a new table plan be sent over.” Lucy pulled her phone out of her pocket and tapped and scrolled. “Here. See it for yourself.”
I took the phone and read it. It came from an email related to the Devon family. “Nobody here is my assistant. They’ve helped me, but nobody is assigned on a formal basis. I don’t know who sent you that, but they were wrong.”
“Well, then my boss is going to be very pleased that we do, in fact, need those other decorations,” she replied, putting her phone back in her pocket. “She was furious yesterday that almost a third of it had been cancelled the day before we were due to deliver it all.”
“I can imagine. Can you get it here tomorrow?”