The Aristocrat

by Penelope Ward

  “What if you just went there?” Bailey suggested.

  “With no warning?”

  “Maybe you need to see him to know whether you want to go through with stopping a freaking wedding. Don’t you feel like you have to be there to know whether the connection is still there? If you call and fuck everything up for him, it might be premature. This kind of thing has to be done in person. I say get your ass on a plane and go. Look him in the eyes, and I think within seconds you’ll know whether it’s right. And if it’s not, at the very least, you can have one final goodbye.”

  If I allowed myself to overthink things, nothing would ever get done. And I didn’t have the luxury of time in this instance. I needed to make a decision before I could even begin to waffle.

  My stomach started churning, not because of my internal debate, but because I knew I’d decided to go.

  * * *

  Felicity

  Track 19: “Long Long Journey” by Enya

  Riding through the English countryside seemed like a dream, more picturesque than I could have imagined—animals grazing off the sides of the road, beautiful stone architecture, sprawling green fields for miles. Chills ran through me almost the entire length of the car trip.

  My driver finally dropped me off at the cottage covered in vines where I’d be staying.

  The little old woman who ran this bed and breakfast greeted me at the door. “Welcome to the Bainbridge Inn.”

  She stepped aside to let me enter. I’d chosen this place because it was only two miles from the Covington estate in Westfordshire.

  By the time my flight landed, it was too late in the day to go straight to Leo. I would go in the morning. I needed time to find my bearings. It had been a long flight, and the stress of anticipation left me mentally exhausted. I didn’t want to see him like this. I needed a good night’s sleep and then, come hell or high water, I’d go to his house in the morning.

  “I’m Lavinia,” the woman said. “I’m at your service for the length of your stay.”

  She was short and frail. Asking her to do anything for me seemed wrong.

  “You’ve provided me with a safe place to sleep, and that’s all I need.”

  “Serving my guests is what I live for.” She smiled. “And I very much enjoy the company. Let me make you some tea. I’d show you to your room, but stairs and I haven’t been getting along lately. I try to limit the number of trips I have to make.”

  That made me feel bad. She was too old for this shit.

  “Tea sounds great,” I told her. “And no worries at all. I don’t need you to accompany me. Just tell me where it is.”

  “First door on the left as soon as you reach the top.”

  The upstairs room had an old-school charm. With floral wallpaper and an iron bed frame, it looked like a life-sized version of a 1970’s dollhouse bedroom. The bed was creaky and a bit uncomfortable, but it would obviously have to do.

  After I situated my bags in a corner, I went back downstairs.

  Lavinia had already set the table in the kitchen. The tea water began boiling on the stove.

  “Are you hungry for a meal, my dear?”

  “No, thank you. I ate something at the airport when I landed.”

  She placed a plate of cookies in front of me. “What brings you to Westfordshire?”

  She had to know who Leo Covington was, so no way was I going to mention his name. I kept things generic.

  “I’ve come to reconnect with a man from my past,” I said as she poured the tea.

  She leaned in. “Well, that might be the most exciting thing I’ve heard around here in a while.”

  I took a sip and laughed. “It’s more terrifying than exciting, actually.”

  “Tell me the story.”

  Without getting into specifics, I told her about the summer I fell for a handsome, charming British man from Westfordshire who swept me off my feet. I ended with the gist of the letter.

  “It’s just so romantic,” she gushed.

  “It is, but equally scary. I wish I’d gotten the letter when it arrived two months earlier. At this point, he’s likely assumed I received it and chose not to answer him. It’s going to be quite a shock to see me.” My heart sank. “This might not end well, Lavinia.”

  She pushed the plate of cookies closer. “Have hope. If it’s meant to be, all will work out in the end.” Lavinia tilted her head. “Is there a reason you chose not to call him first?”

  “I decided it would be more meaningful if I just came. This seems too important for a phone call. If he doesn’t see me in the flesh, he won’t truly know whether the feelings he thinks he has are really there. I need to see the look in his eyes, you know?”

  “I think the poor bloke might have a heart attack.”

  I cringed. “I hope not.”

  “That wouldn’t be a very good ending to the story, now would it?” She carefully stood from her chair. “Well, if I’d known what you were about to embark on, I would have offered you something a lot stronger than tea.”

  I chuckled, remembering my first tea with Leo and Sig, which turned into tea-quila.

  “Can I interest you in something to calm you before bed?” she asked.

  I was just about to refuse, because it was way too late to be drinking, but then I noticed what was in her hand: a bottle of Fireball.

  My eyes widened. “You drink Fireball?”

  “Well, I have a few different options. But this is my favorite, yes. Do you not like it?”

  “That’s not it. It’s… Well, someone who was very special to me who’s since passed away—that was her favorite drink. I can’t help but think you taking that out was a message from her.”

  “Well, see, now you must have a drink before bed.” She poured some Fireball into a small glass for me.

  “Thank you,” I said as I gulped it down.

  “There you go.” She laughed.

  There was nothing like that spicy burn. Definitely not my favorite, but it would be forever special because Mrs. Angelini had loved it so much.

  I took my glass to the sink. “I’m really grateful to have found this place. It has the comfort of home that I appreciate tonight. I’m so nervous, and it’s nice to know I have a place to come back to tomorrow if all doesn’t work out in my favor.”

  “Well, for the record, I don’t have anyone else booked for the foreseeable future. So, even if things don’t work out, I hope you’ll stay a while and enjoy Westfordshire, enjoy the reprieve from home.”

  I smiled, but if Leo sent me packing, I’d be leaving this countryside faster than a bat out of hell.

  The following morning, my nerves were completely shot. Lavinia made me some tea and eggs. I forced everything down so I’d have some energy. I’d called a car service to drive me to Leo’s property, and my ride would be here any minute.

  I’d chosen a simple black dress for the occasion of either getting my heart broken or reuniting with the love of my life. I’d also opted to wear Leo’s grandfather’s ring around my neck. I hadn’t taken it off since I found it in Mrs. Angelini’s cookie canister.

  When my car pulled up, Lavinia gave me a hug, and I greeted my driver and got in. As he took off down the road, I gave him the address of my destination.

  “Do you have an appointment at Covington Manor, miss?” he asked.

  “I’m…going to visit a friend.”

  “That’s not what I asked. Are they expecting you?”

  “No.”

  “You don’t have an appointment?”

  Shit. I hadn’t thought about the logistics of this. It wasn’t like I was visiting Leo at a normal house. It hadn’t occurred to me that I might have trouble gaining access. “Um…I’m just going to wing it.”

  “With all due respect, madam, I don’t want to be privy to your antics if this is some sort of stalker situation.”

  What? I shook my head. “I promise it’s nothing like that.”

  He sighed but kept on driving. Eventually, we arrived
at what I assumed was the Covington estate. There was a long road that served as a driveway and then a fountain at the end of it. The brick property was surrounded by rolling, green hills and looked like something out of a movie—otherworldly.

  The closer he drove to the main building, the harder my heart beat. There was no going back now. I just wished I’d realized sooner that this was going to be more complicated than ringing a doorbell and having Leo answer. I might have gone to Harvard and graduated law school, but sometimes I wasn’t very bright.

  The driver pulled up to the front, and with wobbly legs, I got out of the vehicle. After I shut the door, he took off. I’d planned to ask him to wait for me, but he never gave me the chance.

  Shit! He really did think I was a stalker and didn’t want to be associated with me. Thanks for your support, asshole.

  With my pulse racing, I ascended the steps to the massive and ornate front door, flanked by two gigantic pillars. I rang the doorbell, which almost mimicked church bells.

  A few seconds later, a man dressed in a black suit opened it. “May I help you?”

  The words hardly came out. “Yes. I’m here to see Leo Covington.”

  His brow lifted. “I trust he’s expecting you?”

  “No, actually. I don’t have an appointment. But he knows who I am and would want to know I’m here.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Your name?”

  I cleared my throat. “Felicity Dunleavy.”

  He pulled a device from his pocket that looked like a walkie talkie and spoke into it. He was so quiet that I didn’t understand what he said.

  Then a much larger man appeared in the doorway. “Miss, we don’t let anyone into this house who does not have an appointment. If he were expecting you, he would have notified us. We keep a list of guests who are expected to arrive each day, and you’re not on it.”

  “I understand. You have security measures you need to abide by. I’m not asking that you let me in, only that you let him know that I’m here.”

  “If we bothered him whenever a random stranger showed up and tried to gain entry, surely neither of us would have a job,” one of the men said.

  My heart began to race. “Listen, I’m an old friend of his. I absolutely guarantee if you tell him I’m here, he will not fire you.”

  The two men looked at each other. A sheen of sweat formed on my forehead. This was not a scenario I had anticipated, despite the many ways I’d imagined the moment I showed up at his door.

  “If you’re truly an old friend,” the smaller man said, “you should be able to contact him directly. He would then put you on an approved list of people allowed to enter this home. Until then, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises.”

  This was not good. I did still have Leo’s number, and I supposed I could call him. But that seemed like a brash and informal way of letting him know I was here.

  But it seemed I had no choice. I went to lift my phone from my purse, but after much patting at the bottom, I realized it wasn’t in there. I was so discombobulated this morning that I must have left it at Lavinia’s.

  Shit! What do I do now? I looked up at the men blocking my path. “Listen, I really need your help. I’ve come all the way from the United States. I understand that he doesn’t know I’m here, but I promise you he won’t be mad if you just tell him—”

  The door shut in my face.

  The silence was deafening.

  I can’t believe this is happening. I looked around and debated whether to scream. Somehow, I didn’t think that would go off well around here. But how else was I supposed to get to Leo?

  Without a clue what else to do, I rang the doorbell again.

  The larger man immediately answered. “Shutting the door was your cue to leave with some dignity. I didn’t want to have to use force to remove you from the property. But I’m afraid if you continue to insist on entering, I will have no choice but to carry you off the premises.”

  That rubbed me the wrong way. I raised my voice. “You will do no such thing. You won’t lay a hand on me. Do you understand?”

  “I’m afraid you’ll give me no choice.”

  “Standing at someone’s door is not a crime. I haven’t pushed past you or tried to enter. If you touch me, I will kick you straight in the balls!”

  That didn’t seem to scare him. The next thing I knew, two more men appeared, and I began to worry for my safety. What exactly are they planning to do?

  My instincts told me to yell. “Leo! Help!”

  I had no clue if he was even home. But I continued to scream, repeating his name. Would these guys call the police? I pondered leaving, but I didn’t have a phone to dial a driver. I’d have to walk the two miles back to Lavinia’s house.

  And then, just when I thought I was going to lose my mind, I heard his voice.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  I looked up. “Leo. Oh my God.”

  He hadn’t looked me in the face until I said his name. He turned white as his eyes met mine. He just kept blinking, as if he wasn’t sure I was actually standing in front of him.

  “Felicity…” he whispered.

  “I’m so sorry I made a scene. But they wouldn’t tell you I was here.”

  Leo stared at me incredulously as one of the men tried to explain.

  “Do you know this woman? We didn’t think—”

  “Please leave us be.” Leo held his hand out. “Go back inside.”

  The man stammered, “Your Grace, we were just—”

  “Leave us be!” Leo shouted.

  The air fell silent. The man nodded, and the other guys followed him back into the house. The door didn’t completely close behind them, but at least we were alone now.

  Leo seemed neither happy nor upset. His was an expression of pure shock.

  “What are you doing here?” he finally asked.

  My heart nearly stopped. Why is he asking me that? My voice shook. “I got your letter. Two months late. I’m so sorry I didn’t respond, but I only saw it sitting there in a pile a few days ago.”

  His eyebrows knitted. “My letter…?”

  “Yes.” I fished inside my purse for the envelope. “The letter you wrote me back in June. You said you were getting married in September—which is less than three weeks away. And you needed to know if I still had feelings for you before you took that step. I was so shocked to receive it, but honestly, Leo, I haven’t stopped thinking about you over the years, either. I would have come sooner if I—”

  “Let me see it, please.” He held out his hand. “The letter.”

  Confused, I handed it to him.

  What’s going on?

  Then a feeling of dread came over me. The letter mentioned he’d been drinking.

  Oh no. Panic squeezed my chest.

  “Do you not remember writing it?” I asked with a lump in my throat.

  He seemed to be in disbelief as he stared down at it. “Of course, I do.”

  “Why are you acting like you don’t?”

  “Felicity…” He took a few steps toward me and handed the letter back. “Look at the date.”

  I looked down and read. “It says June 2, 2025.”

  “That’s not a five.” He paused. “It’s a three. I wrote this letter to you over two years ago.”

  A few seconds went by as I processed what he said. It felt like all of the air left my body. Then my heart dropped to my feet. “How can this be?” I looked down at it again, the letter shaking in my trembling hand. Three… Five… Everything looked blurry right now.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered.

  I cleared my throat. “Wait…so, um, if this was written two years ago then…you’re…”

  He finished my sentence. “Married.”

  The sun seemed to disappear in that moment. It felt like the world was closing in on me. I wanted to run, but I couldn’t move. “Oh.”

  “Why is it that you only saw the letter now?”

  My eye
s closed. “Mrs. Angelini passed away after a heart attack about two years ago. This letter must have arrived around the time she died. It got mixed in with a bunch of sympathy cards. I only just found it when going through all the mail at her house recently, and that’s why…” My words trailed off.

  “Oh, Felicity. I’m so sorry to hear about Mrs. Angelini.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I know how much she meant to you.”

  You meant a lot to me, too.

  As we stood facing each other, light raindrops began to fall.

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  Those words were like a knife to my heart.

  “So do you. Handsome.” I nodded. “Healthy.”

  Healthy? I didn’t even know what I was saying at this point.

  He kept shaking his head. “I don’t know what to say. I’m speechless right now. I can hardly breathe, let alone speak.”

  “I can relate.”

  He looked beyond me, as if to check for a vehicle. “When did you get here? Are you staying somewhere?”

  “Last night. I’m staying at a bed and breakfast two miles down the road.”

  I looked over and noticed a group of people inside the house staring at us from the window.

  “What’s the name of the place?” he asked.

  “The Bainbridge Inn,” I answered, still focused on the window.

  “We need to talk,” he said. “I’ll meet you there later.”

  “I guess I don’t need to ask why you’re not inviting me in. Not sure there’s anything left to say. Honestly, I should just go back to the States, Leo.” My eyes began to well up.

  “Please don’t leave Westfordshire.” His tone was urgent. “At least not until we’ve had a chance to talk properly in private, all right?”

  Just then the door opened. An attractive woman around my age stood in the doorway. She wore a pink dress that accentuated her tiny waist. Her hair was blond, pin straight, and cut to just above her shoulders. Based on her look of disdain, it didn’t take much to figure out who this was.

  She looked me up and down. “What’s going on here?”

  Leo opened his mouth, but I didn’t give him the chance to respond.