The Aristocrat

by Penelope Ward

About an hour into our adventure, Leo was finally getting the hang of things. Before I knew it, we’d filled an entire bucket with clams.

  After our work was done, we took some time to relax on the sand.

  Leo rested his arm on the top of the bucket. “That was a lot of work, but it was worth it.”

  “Yeah, I like that it takes my mind off stuff when I get into it.”

  “What’s on your mind? Something stressing you out?”

  Should I be honest? I laughed. “You.”

  His eyes went wide. “Me?”

  “A little. Yeah,” I admitted. “Last night…was weird.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “Let’s talk about that. I wasn’t going to bring it up, but since you did…”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what to say about it. I guess I was nervous because I wasn’t expecting to see you, and then the fact that you were on a date was awkward, for some reason.”

  “It was awkward for me, too,” he said.

  “Running into me?”

  “No. The date. I had no desire to go, but I gave in to my cousin’s prodding.”

  I blinked. “You’re not seeing her again, or…?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not interested in her.”

  “I would imagine she’s disappointed, then.”

  “I don’t know. And I don’t really care.” His eyes pierced mine.

  “I lied to you the other day when I said I wasn’t interested in going out with you,” I admitted after a moment. “My rejecting you had nothing to do with a lack of interest. I just have a bad habit of avoiding things that come with risk. I don’t want to grow to like you and then have to deal with you leaving and all that. So I said no, even though I wanted to say yes.”

  Leo smiled. “Thank you for your honesty. I understand completely.” He threw a rock toward the water. “And now I’m going to be honest with you and admit that my renting this boat had nothing to do with wanting clams for dinner.” He turned to me. “I don’t even know what they taste like. I just wanted an excuse to see you again.”

  “Well, this was a lot of work for someone who didn’t even want clams,” I teased.

  “I suppose. But without this guise, I would’ve had to admit right off the bat that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear that.”

  Rubbing my bare feet into the sand, I asked, “Who are you, Leo?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “I mean…Sig alluded to the fact that you’re someone important. Is it just based on money, or is there something more you’re not telling me?”

  For the first time since I’d met him, I noticed a look of true discomfort on Leo’s face.

  “My father is a duke. The sixth Duke of Westfordshire,” he finally said. “It’s a title he inherited from his father, the fifth Duke. As the only child, I’ll inherit it from my father someday as well and become the seventh Duke of Westfordshire. Along with that title comes ownership and control of my family’s vast estate.”

  Wow. Okay. “You’re a royal?”

  “No. Not a royal. We’re more like landowning, rich pricks.”

  “Oh my Lord…”

  “Literally.”

  “Jesus, you’re right.” I covered my face. “Oh my Lord, literally.”

  “Lord Covington, yeah. But please never call me that.” He chuckled.

  I blew a breath up into my hair. “This is definitely bigger than I imagined.”

  “It’s not something I wanted to advertise the second we met. I much prefer people to see who I am beyond all that. That’s just not possible back home. And your shocked reaction only proves my point—once people know, they see me differently. Spoiled and entitled, perhaps?”

  “I’m sorry my reaction made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I see you differently. I swear, I don’t.”

  “I just want to forget about it for a while. That’s all. I’m not trying to hide anything. Talking about it takes away the point of this reprieve. But you have every right to ask who I am.”

  Suddenly, I felt oddly bonded to him. “I can relate to wanting to forget. It’s like…when I tell people I’ve been on my own most of my life, they definitely see me differently. There are so many preconceived notions about growing up in the foster-care system. They assume I must be troubled or unstable in some way because I didn’t have a solid family foundation. Because of those weird reactions, I prefer not telling people, too. But you can’t exactly lie when people ask, you know?”

  “Yep.”

  “Thank you for your honesty,” I said. “You could’ve totally lied to me or downplayed it, and I would never have known the difference.”

  “You can ask me anything, Felicity. I’ll always be honest.”

  When our eyes locked, I felt an urge to escape. Standing up, I brushed my butt off. “Well, we should probably take our catch back.”

  He got up as well. “Will you come over for dinner?”

  He watched me carefully as I struggled with my answer.

  “I can see the wheels turning in your head,” he said. “You’re not sure whether to say yes. It won’t technically be a date, if that makes you feel better. My arse of a cousin will be there to ruin any chance of privacy. It’s just dinner, because quite frankly, there would be no clams without you, and you should at least get to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

  When he put it that way, it was hard to say no.

  “Okay. Just dinner. I can live with that.”

  He lifted the heavy bucket. “Are you driving back, or shall I?”

  “Well, if we want to make it for dinner before nightfall, I probably should take the wheel, Grandma.”

  Leo shut his eyes. “Ouch.”

  After spending the afternoon with Leo, I felt much more comfortable around him than before. He’d shown me his vulnerable side today, and that made it hard to be afraid of him. I was mainly afraid of my own feelings. But ultimately, I wanted to enjoy tonight and not analyze it. So that was the choice I made.

  I stopped the vessel on my side of the bay, and Leo got out to help me return the clamming tools to the garage.

  Back out by the boat, he said, “How about eight for dinner?”

  “That works.”

  “Shall I pick you up in the boat, or will you drive?”

  “I can handle the drive over.”

  He winked. “See you then, love.”

  I stood and watched as he turned on the boat and made his way back across the bay to his house. As he disappeared into the distance, a little panic set in. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. I wanted to tell it to quiet down, to not get its hopes up about a man it couldn’t have. But I knew I had little control over what caused it to beat in such a way. It would probably beat harder the more I tried to stop it.

  My legs felt wobbly as I made my way back into the house, my body still used to being on the choppy boat, apparently. Or maybe this insane attraction to Leo caused the weakness in my legs.

  Mrs. Angelini came downstairs when she heard me enter.

  “Well, you were certainly gone long enough.”

  “Yeah. We got a ton of clams. I’m going over to their house tonight for dinner.”

  “Good.” She smiled. “I’m glad you’re letting go a little.”

  I had no clue what to wear. Bailey and I were supposed to go shopping soon, but we hadn’t had a chance yet.

  “Mrs. Angelini?”

  She turned around. “Yeah?”

  “I need your help. I want to look nice for this dinner tonight, but I have nothing but jeans and T-shirts in my closet. I don’t want to wear the same long skirt I did when I went over there last time. His cousin called me Mary Poppins…”

  “He what?” She laughed.

  “Yeah. But I kind of deserved it.” I shrugged. “Anyway, I want to wear something nice—not too dressy, but not as frumpy as jeans and a T-shirt.”

  “I would let you borrow something of mine, but I’m far too por
tly.” She looked over at the clock. “I have a better idea. My friend Helena owns the boutique in town. It closes pretty early. We don’t have much time, but I bet she’d keep it open a little later for us. We’ll make sure we get you something that accentuates your beauty but isn’t over the top.”

  I never asked her for much, but when I did, Mrs. Angelini always came through. I tried to block the emotions that bubbled inside of me right now, because her coming to my rescue yet again reminded me of exactly something a mother would do.

  * * *

  Leo

  Track 5: “The Lady in Red” by Chris de Burgh

  Carrying the heavy bucket into the house, I said, “Please tell me you know how to cook clams.”

  Sigmund narrowed his eyes. “What in God’s name did you bring back here?”

  “Felicity and I took my boat out to dig for these.”

  “Your boat?”

  “Yeah. Have a look outside. It arrived while you were out earlier. A rental, of course.”

  “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Maybe.” I smiled. “Yeah.”

  “When have you ever touched a boat in your life, aside from stepping onto your father’s yacht?”

  “This time here in Narragansett is all about exploring new things, Sigmund.”

  “And I’m sure exploring the water was exactly what you were aiming for with this boat today, eh?”

  “We had a nice time.”

  “I was sort of hoping you’d forget about her after she dumped that fish on your crotch and made a mockery of our date last night.”

  “The only mockery about that date was the brain-dead conversation.”

  “Okay, so now what? I’m roped into Operation Woo Carrot Top by having to learn how to cook these things?”

  “You’re the cook. It’s what you do. Figure something out that won’t embarrass me.”

  “You’re going to owe me big time for this.”

  I arched my brow. “I suppose footing the bill for this entire trip counts for nothing, then?”

  “Solid point.”

  “I also told her we were having lobster.”

  “So I’m supposed to make an entire seafood feast for you both?”

  “I’ll head out and get the lobsters. You figure out what to do with these clams.”

  After jetting to the shop and picking up three, one-pound lobsters, I returned to the house to find Sigmund had removed some of the clams from their shells and was cutting them into tiny pieces. He’d texted me to pick up some Portuguese sausage as well.

  “What are you doing slicing them? I thought we were supposed to crack them open and eat them that way?”

  “Is that what you’d like to do to the redhead? Split her wide open and eat her?” He snickered.

  “Can you please stop?”

  “Why are my innuendos suddenly bothering you so much?”

  “Because my attraction to her has nothing to do with sex.” That was partly a lie. “I mean, I am sexually attracted to her, but it’s not all about that.” I wiped sweat off my forehead. “Anyway, answer my question. What the hell are you doing to those clams? Why aren’t they in the shells? You’d better not be ruining them.”

  “This is a recipe called stuffies. I figured it was appropriate considering you’d like to stuff Pippi Longstocking.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, what are you stuffing?”

  “Relax. It’s why I had you buy the sausage.”

  “Please tell me the sausage wasn’t some kind of sick sexual thing, too?”

  “No, you bloody wanker. Who’s the one with the dirty mind now?”

  “Clearly I don’t trust you.”

  “The sausage will be mixed with the clams and some breadcrumbs, then put back in the shells and baked. It’s apparently quite a popular way of making them, despite your assumption that I’m working to taunt you or sabotage your dinner.”

  I relaxed a little. I should have more confidence in him. The one thing he rarely screwed up was food.

  Looking over at the clock, I realized there wasn’t much time before Felicity would arrive at eight. My clothing still smelled like the salty ocean from our jaunt earlier today. Leaving Sigmund in the kitchen, I went upstairs to shower and get dressed.

  When I returned downstairs, the counters were empty. “Where’s the food?”

  “Will you relax? I didn’t ruin anything. The stuffies are in the oven. And the lobsters are boiling. Everything is under control—except you. Calm your balls.”

  “Also, can you not be an arse to her tonight? Is that too much to ask?”

  “I can’t promise I won’t slip up. But I’ll try. Unless you’d prefer I leave altogether?”

  “No. I told her we would be getting together as a group. I don’t want to freak her out. This isn’t supposed to be a date.”

  “Ah. I see what you’re doing. Very clever. Reel her in by making her believe you’re no longer interested in dating her, all while charming her slowly.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “That’s her now. Turn on your manners button.”

  He pressed repeatedly on his chest. “Bugger. It must be stuck. Looks like you’re out of luck.”

  I sighed and went to the front door. When I opened it, the breath nearly left my body.

  Her flaming hair was down, styled into long, loose tendrils. She wore a bright red dress that wasn’t formal, but rather made of thin cotton with a tie around her neck. It was short, simple, and sexy as all hell, accentuating her long legs. Her lips were painted a matching shade of red. This was a different look for her, but I loved it. My favorite part was the ability to see for the first time just how far the freckles traveled down her chest.

  “Felicity, you look…” I cleared my throat. “Incredible.”

  “Thank you. I thought it might be nice if I actually dressed up for once. You know, not quite Mary Poppins, not quite tomboy—somewhere in the middle.”

  “You look lovely no matter how you’re dressed. But you’re particularly stunning tonight.” I shook my head, realizing I’d been so mesmerized I hadn’t invited her inside. “Come in. Come in.”

  As she entered the foyer, she took a deep breath. “Something smells good.”

  “He’s making…stuffies?”

  “Oh yes. Good choice.”

  The fact that she’d heard of them brought me relief.

  When we entered the kitchen, my cousin’s eyes widened. “Felicity, you look absolutely gorgeous.”

  “Why, thank you. I think that might be the first nice thing you’ve said to me.”

  “Well, it’s deserved.”

  His compliment irked me. And I didn’t like the way he was looking at her now, either—like he was finally seeing what I had been all this time. But it didn’t matter to me whether she was in a red dress or a baggy T-shirt; she was beautiful.

  “What can I get you to drink?” I asked.

  “Surprise me.” She smiled.

  Back home, they always served white wine with seafood, so I figured that might be the best choice for this evening. Then I remembered the bottle of Dom Pérignon chilling and opted to open that instead. After preparing two flutes, I handed her one and watched as she took a sip. When she licked her lips, I swore my cock moved.

  “Mmm... Good choice. I love champagne. Thank you.”

  Sigmund opened the oven and placed the tray of stuffed clam shells on the counter. I had to admit, they looked and smelled delicious.

  Felicity leaned her head over the tray. “Had you ever made stuffies before, Sig?”

  “This was my first time.”

  “Impressive.”

  “If food is the way to your heart, love, my cousin doesn’t stand a chance.” He laughed.

  She patted me on the shoulder. “Well, he’s a great boat captain. At least he has that.”

  I cleared my throat. “What she really means to say is, I put in a good effort before she had to take the wheel from me because I was driving it like Nan.”
<
br />   She smiled from behind her champagne. I loved her smile, especially when it was focused on me.

  The voice in my head seemed to come out of nowhere. “What are you doing?” The answer was certainly: falling for someone I had no right to be. I just didn’t know how to stop. I shooed the negative voice away.

  Sigmund grabbed a beer from the fridge. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to set the table, Leo.”

  He was right. I should’ve at least offered to do that. I’d been a little distracted.

  Felicity put her glass on the counter. “I can help.”

  “No, you’re the guest. You’ll do no such thing,” I said.

  She wouldn’t listen and began rummaging through the cabinets for plates. We ended up setting the table together.

  After we’d laid everything out and settled into our seats, Felicity looked around, as if we were missing something.

  “Do you have…bibs?”

  My cousin looked horrified. “Bibs? As in a baby bib? No. Afraid not.”

  “Yes. Lobster can be quite messy.” She stood and disappeared into the kitchen before returning with three dishtowels.

  She came around to my side of the table and tucked one of the towels into the top of my shirt before patting her hand over it gently. That simple touch stirred something in me.

  She then handed the other towel to Sigmund, neglecting to place it on him. That pleased me to no end. My cousin ignored the towel and started eating without it.

  A few minutes into dinner, it was clear Felicity was no stranger to cracking open lobster with precision, and she was certainly unafraid to make a mess.

  She sucked juice out of one of the shells. “This is amazing. Thank you. It’s not every day I get to have lobster. This is a special treat.”

  “I would’ve thought you got to have it all of the time, considering it’s a local delicacy,” I said.

  She shook her head. “Mrs. Angelini is allergic to seafood. Which is incredibly ironic, since her husband owned a chain of seafood restaurants before he died. But we never have lobster, and I don’t typically get it when I’m on my own, since it’s quite expensive.”

  Her words were a wake-up call. Not everyone could afford the luxury of eating whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. You idiot, Leo. She probably saw me as coming from another planet.