Page 42 of Wife After Wife

Of course, she would know Ana’s fiancé.

“Harry, this is—” began Percy.

“He knows who I am, silly. I’m his chosen provider of wine and... other things.” She winked at Harry.

What the heck?

She touched Harry’s arm. “Champagne too. Have you tried it?”

“The response has been good, you’ll be glad to hear.”

“Lordy, these shoes are killing me,” said Merry, and she clung to Harry’s arm as she lifted a foot and wiggled it around.

Ana appeared at Percy’s side. “Has anyone seen Megan?” She did a double take at Merry, still clinging to Harry’s arm. “She’s wanted by the caterers.” She frowned slightly at her sister.

“I was just saying what a great job Megan’s done tonight,” said Percy.

“I think I saw her with your friend,” Merry said to Harry. “The guy with glasses.”

“Charles?” said Harry sharply.

“Here she is,” said Ana. “Thank goodness. I couldn’t have covered for her for much longer. Oh, I guess the rain’s finally here.”

Harry followed Ana’s gaze and saw Megan hurrying toward them, her shoes in one hand, her hair wet and sticking to her face. Her expression was panicked. His heart sank. Had something happened between her and Charles?

“Megan? What on earth?” He shook off Merry’s arm impatiently.

“Harry, come quick,” Megan panted. “Ana, I need you to phone for an ambulance. Katie’s gone into labor.”

“Oh, how exciting!” said Percy.

A wave of panic hit Harry. She was only seven months along. He knew nothing about survival rates, but this couldn’t be good.

“Where?” said Harry.

“Follow me.”

Outside, through the pouring rain, Harry saw Katie, supported by Charles on one side and Cassandra on the other.

“An ambulance is coming,” he called.

They stopped walking, as Katie was clearly having a contraction.

“Katie!” Harry said, reaching her.

She let go of Charles’s arm and grabbed his own as she doubled over with a moan. Her wet dress clung to her stomach and legs.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Cassandra said, and he saw tears mingling with the raindrops running down her face. “I’m so—”

“Shut the fuck up, Cassandra,” growled Charles. “It’s not about you.”

“Cass,” gasped Katie, straightening up a little. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“The fuck it wasn’t,” said Charles. “If you hadn’t—”

“Stop it, you two. Save it for later,” said Harry.

The rain intensified, the drops slicing like shards of glass across the beams of the palace floodlights. There was a flash of lightning, and thunder crashed overhead. Harry had a momentary fancy that it was a reprimand from the big man upstairs, for not checking on his wife. What had happened to Katie while he was schmoozing VIPs and obsessing over Ana?