“I can’t believe this.”
She started reading to herself. “From the London Eye to Darlington’s Christmas gala and finally snogging in the country, Christopher brings his newest conquest home to meet the family.” Her lips twisted with humor. “We snogged? Shouldn’t I remember doing something like snogging?”
He would have grinned. Taken her into his arms and reminded her exactly what snogging was, but those photos and the information posted with them revealed personal details very few should have known, or even found interesting. A Ransomed Gentleman proved a solid film, but nothing to warrant renewed interest from the tabloids, unless someone encouraged the interest— planted the information. He skimmed over the introductory sentences. Is she after the man or the name? Who is his mysterious American?
A sliver of doubt snaked its way through his chest as he lifted his gaze back to Eisley. The slight shake of her head and chuckle seemed to suggest she wasn’t even concerned about this violation. She was a single mum, pinching pennies as she’d mentioned when they’d purchased those Christmas gifts for her children. “Did you tell any of your family about Rose Hill?”
“My mom and Uncle Joe know about it, of course, but the rest of my family doesn’t even know where Derbyshire is, so why confuse them even more?”
It couldn’t be a ploy, could it? Not with Eisley. “But in your excitement, perhaps you revealed more?” The doubt slithered deeper, down the familiar path to suspicion against his will. “Did you make any contacts in London? Talk to anyone at the gala who would have extracted information from you?”
She looked up at him, confusion wrinkling her brow. “If you recall, you’re the only person I nearly debilitated that night. I might be a foreigner, but I’m not stupid. Why on earth would I ever want people printing pictures of me for the whole world to see? Besides, I care about your family and you. Why would I…?” She picked up the magazine and grimaced, then pierced him with a narrow gaze. “Wait a minute, are you back to the whole suspicious strangers thing from day one?”
The hurt in her rounded eyes slashed a knife’s blade through his middle.
“I’ve tried to be careful to guard my private life and I couldn’t imagine anyone knowing unless—”
“Unless I was after you? Or money for information about you?” She blinked and when she stared at him again, fire burned in those golden-green hues. “If you think just a minute instead of getting up on your crazy rant, you’ll remember you’re the one who came after me in London. Not the other way around. And then you followed me to Rose Hill. I never tried to convince you to come.”
He squeezed his eyes closed and massaged his fingers into the back of his neck, guilt weighing against him like another set of shackles to carry. “You’re right, Eisley. I’m sorry. The betrayal is still so fresh and painful, I’m not certain why I immediately came to that conclusion.”
“Maybe because you have a chip on your shoulder the size of the leaning tower of Pisa?” The flames in her eyes died. She slapped her palm over her mouth. “Oh, I didn’t mean to say that.”
He was a complete and utter idiot. She didn’t even have the heart to insult him. And he deserved an insult or twelve. “Eisley, I can’t—”
“But I thought we’d established a mutual trust here. You know, that relationship thing?” Her hands landed on the hips of her dark jeans, her brows jutting high. “I shouldn’t have to keep proving my honesty.”
“My life is a bit more complicated on the trust factor. It isn’t as simple for someone whose life is under constant scrutiny—”
“Whoa, just a minute.” Her palm rose to stop him. “Are you saying you shouldn’t have as much faith in me because I’m not famous? Or are you saying the fact I trust you isn’t as big a deal as you trusting me? That I’m not taking risks for this too?”
Her questions slammed all the air from his lungs. Imbecile.
“I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true. Kiss a woman in a tower and she loses her touch on reality.” She slammed a palm down against the paper on the desk and shook her head. “You? Me?” She jerked the paper from the desk and slapped it into his chest. “Maybe I’m not the only one creating a chasm, Mr...” Even her search for an insult proved her innocence. “Mr. Actor.”
She marched past him out of the library, thumping the door closed behind her with a finality that clamped his breath. Suspicion had become a hardwire in his veins, an instant reaction to any inconsistency with new people. But not with Eisley. What was he doing? He flung the paper to the desk and raced after her. She was already halfway down the stairs to the main level.
“Eisley, wait. Please.”
She doubled her pace, taking a right turn at the bottom of the stairs in the opposite direction from the front door. In ten seconds, she’d be lost. The house proved a puzzle without the proper guide. How could he have been such a fool? Was he ever to learn from his mistakes and recognize truth and authenticity when it was plain before him?
The first two rooms at the bottom of the stairs were empty, but then he heard…laughter? He groaned. The sweet sound drifted from the small chapel. Its dark mahogany walls rose to the white-domed ceiling, giving her laughter a pleasant echo.
“You have a chapel in your house?” She shook her head and buried her face into her hands, her chuckle dissolving into a whimper. “This was doomed from the start.”
“No, Eisley.” He stepped close enough to tease one of her hands from her face. “Please, don’t give up on us because of my idiotic paranoia.”
She peered up at him, eyes squinted as if in pain—pain he’d inflicted. “Yeah, I think your paranoia hit mine with the domino effect. Not a good match, handsome. I don’t need someone else to measure up to.” She wagged a finger at him. “And just because you’re an actor who lives in a mansion and speaks in an accent to make my knees weak, doesn’t mean I’m—”
“That’s exactly right.” He grinned, proud of her little declaration in herself. He caught her wagging finger and drew both of her hands to his chest, so naturally her body followed suit. “I shouldn’t have said those things. You deserve my trust and I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Her hands remained limp in his and she stared up at him without an ounce of confidence. He deserved it.
“Maybe it’s just another hint that this little fairy tale isn’t going to work. I’m better at Scooby Doo mysteries than Cinderella stories.”
“You do realize if you run away like Cinderella, I’ll pursue you. None of this waiting back at the castle like Prince Charming.”
The hitch in her breath and her widening eyes had him drawing her all the way into his arms, trapping her warmth against his. “You’re worth a thousand quarrels and chases through the house.” He ran a kiss over her forehead and then steadied his gaze on hers, unflinching like his resolution to make it up to her. “And I’ll keep coming after you, all the way across an ocean. I’m sorry I allowed my fear to blur my vision.”
“I know what that’s like.” She sighed but didn’t meet his gaze. However, she did rest her hand against his chest. “At least I know you can be imperfect like any other human. It makes the playing field a little more level. It’s hard to compete with demigod status when you’re a mere mortal.”
“Eisley,” he whispered, tipping her chin up and waiting for her to look at him, hating the hurt and doubt resurrected in the lines around her eyes. “I have a long list of imperfections, and as we get to know one another better, I’m certain you’ll see more than you like. In fact, my many imperfections might lower me to pauper status within a month of our acquaintance.” Her expression softened. How could he have doubted her? “I imagine I’ll need a lifetime of refining.”
She patted his chest and peaked a brow rather sheepishly. “That makes two of us.”
“Please forgive me, pet?”
“It’s a pretty appropriate place to find forgiveness, isn’t it?” Her smile bloomed with the slightest hitch. He’d renew her confidence. She gestured a large wav
e as if to encompass the room. “What a great thing to use a chapel for, right? Forgiveness?”
“Well, we have used it for weddings on occasion, too.”
“Smooth reply, Prince Charming.” She tried to pull her hands free but he wouldn’t let go. Her gaze flitted to his, a question in it.
“I’m broken, Eisley. Imperfect. See me as a flawed human like everyone else, or you’ll only continue to be disappointed in me over and over again.” He kissed her fingers. “I have every intention of keeping you in my life for a long time, so we’re certain to make it into the papers again.”
She cringed and stepped out of his arms. “Oh, the idea of photos like that one forever branded in print. Ugh.” Her hand went to her stomach. “I know what my New Year’s Resolution is going to be.”
He took his time scanning over her body and didn’t see any need for one change, which turned his mind to a very pressing matter of clarification. “About this snogging business.”
Her grin etched a slow and adorable curve into her cheek. “Smart guy. You’re going to use distraction? I’m impressed you already know me so well.”
“I’ll use every advantage I can to make sure you stay right here.” He placed his palm over his chest.
She wrestled to subdue her pleasure, but couldn’t. And he gave a mental thank you to God. “Besides, I couldn’t have you not recall snogging.” He rubbed the palm on his chest as if massaging a wound to his heart. “It’s criminal.”
“We snogged at the London Eye?”
“No.” The inner predator shot a fire-warning up his chest. He took a step toward her.
She studied him, her lips pulled into a pout. “Was it something we did at the gala?”
He took another step closer. “I thought about it, but no.”
“Is it a game we’ve played?” Eisley narrowed her eyes, oblivious to the direction of his thoughts.
He took her hand and pulled her back toward him. “I assure you, I take it quite seriously.”
“The name isn’t very attractive—”
He caught her statement with his mouth. Her body jolted from shock, and then she sighed into him, one arm sliding up his back while the other clenched the lapel of his jacket, pulling him closer. His mouth possessed hers, roving over her jaw and back again. His hand combed through her hair and fanned a trail down her neck, triggering a gasp. She released his jacket and skimmed her way up his arm and into his hair, deepening the kiss until he drew back with a reluctant groan.
“Snogging?” Eisley’s voice emerged in a rasp. She shook her head sending a delicious aroma of mint in his direction. “That word is about as appropriate as calling this castle a house.”
“We’d better not encourage too many of those right now.” Wes’s grip eased and he pulled her into a hug, his chin resting on her head, his pulse pounding nearly loud enough to block his words. His palms itched to sweep down her curves and abate his curiosity in a way his old self would have indulged without hesitation. But not now. “I’m tempted to enjoy it a bit too much, pet, and I refuse to make the same mistakes of my past.”
Eisley nuzzled her head against his chest. “I was worried that, because you’ve had all this experience and my kissing practice has been pretty much pinned to one or two guys, that I…I’m not….”
“You are perfect for me, Eisley Barrett.” He breathed into her hair. “And I like kissing you very much. Only you.” He smoothed his palms over the soft threads of her hair. “How I wish I could offer you the same innocence you offer me. It’s beautiful.” He skimmed his finger across her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
“Okay, you’re totally forgiven,” she whispered, her mossy eyes pooled with unshed tears. “For things you haven’t even done yet.”
“I’ll need the grace.” He chuckled. “Because I’m playing for keeps.”
“You know this isn’t the real world, right? Towers, tunnels, brain-numbing kisses, privacy?” She shook her head. “In my regular life, I do well to get a shower every day and keep my house from looking like the inside of a toy bin. No towers, and practically no privacy, especially with my family.”
“Brain-numbing kisses can happen anywhere, with or without the towers, you know.”
The buzz of Wes’s mobile vibrated from his jacket pocket and into the heat-strummed silence. “I think those ideas began when you offered to fall on me instead of Dad.” He perked a brow at her grin and drew out his mobile from his jacket, scanning the number. “It’s Mum. They must be arriving with Cate soon.”
“I probably should have said fall for you instead of fall on you.” Eisley murmured and clasped her hands behind her, stepping back to examine the room while he took the call. Either scenario worked for him. Or both.
He brought the phone to his ear, keeping his gaze fastened on the lovely woman staring up at the ornate ceiling in the chapel, a look of wonder on her face. His grin inched wider.
“Hello, Mum.”
“Wes?” His mum’s voice trembled out his name and then she cleared her throat. “Wes.” Her breathless voice spiked his pulse. “Thank God you answered.”
“Mum, what is it? What’s wrong?”
Eisley turned, a question in her eyes.
“I can’t—” Muffled voices followed by a sob broke into the conversation. “We’re on our way to Accident & Emergency.” Wes held his breath, his gaze fastened on Eisley’s.
“Wes.” Cate’s voice came to the other end. “It’s Dad. We believe he’s had a heart attack.”
“No, Cate.”
Eisley stepped back to him, palm rested against his arm. He covered her hand with his free one, his breath gripped to a stop.
“He’s unresponsive, but we’re almost to the emergency now.” Cate’s voice quivered. “Wes, it doesn’t look good.”
“I’m on my way.”
He ended the call and looked at Eisley.
“Dad’s heart—”
“Do you want me to come? I’ll be happy to go with you.”
He paused and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve no idea what will be expected. It may be family only and a great deal of waiting. Would you mind staying here until I know more?”
“Of course not. I’ll pray. You go.” She nudged him toward the door. “Don’t worry about me.” She offered a comforting smile and squeezed his hand. “Go.”
He kissed her head and, without a look back, ran for the door, taking in enough air to feed his weak lungs. God, please don’t let my father die.
Chapter Fifteen
“Can I get you anything, Miss?”
Eisley looked up from the page she’d been staring at for the past fifteen minutes, not reading a word. It was even Jonathan Taylor’s book, but not even the wild tales of her Appalachian ancestors could keep her mind from spiraling into the worry zone. She’d talked to Lizzie, who couldn’t leave to drive to the hospital until the nurse arrived to care for her dad, and she’d even pulled out her laptop to try writing a few lines for Uncle Joe. It was useless.
Jacobs stood with an expectant expression in the library doorway, tea-laden tray in hand, waiting for her response.
“Aw, Jacobs, thanks. I think I am starting to get a little hungry.” The nice butler kept checking on her every thirty minutes or so. She needed to say yes this time to give him something to do. “Doesn’t good food and English tea make everything a little better?”
She thought the corner of his mouth twitched, but she couldn’t be sure. He seemed pretty unflappable. “Quite right, miss.”
“Do you want to have some with me?”
His brows skyrocketed.
Eisley leaned forward and lowered her voice. “I won’t tell. Promise.”
The tightness around his eyes softened but she failed to win a smile. “Thank you, Miss, but I must attend to other matters. Should you wish for company I can fetch one of the maids.”
One of the maids? How many did he have? “Oh, that’s all right. No need to bother one of them with my quest for distraction. I�
��ve walked up and down that floating staircase about five times to help with the…waiting, you know?”
His eyes glimmered, but otherwise his expression didn’t change. “I happen to be quite efficient at waiting.”
The turn of phrase nudged her smile. “An occupational hazard?”
The glimmer moved to his lips in the touch of a smile. “Precisely.”
The phone nearby rang again. Probably the fifth time in an hour. She glanced to the desk and back to Jacobs. “I know it’s not my place, but I’ve heard the phone ring a few times since Wes left.” She bit her lip and hoped her expression looked pleading enough. “Any news?”
Jacobs placed the tray on the table in front of Eisley and raised back to his pencil-straight height, though it seemed a little more relaxed than before. “No, Miss. Not a word.”
Eisley popped a piece of a cookie in her mouth and grimaced. “Is that normal, then? All those constant phone calls? That would drive me crazy.”
“No, it has only become a common occurrence over the past week. It seems to be a hoax. A crank caller, I believe, is the term with which you are familiar.” Oh, he was definitely softening to her. “Both Ms. Craven and I have answered it to find no voice on the other end, but we have someone looking into it. Highly peculiar for Harrogate.” The phone rang again. He gestured toward the tray. “Might I get you anything else?”
“No, thank you, but please let me know if you hear anything.”
“Of course.”
Eisley went through the ceremony of fixing her tea, using way more sugar than any good Englishwoman should, but she’d lost her appetite. She stood from her plush green roost and started another round of pacing. Wes’s text an hour ago had said his father was having some sort of procedure and was unconscious. That was it. Nothing else. Guys really didn’t get a woman’s need for information.
She took another bite of cookie and moved her pacing out into the hallway for a different view. Her steps led her around the balcony overlooking the entryway, past the floating staircase, and deeper into the bowels of the great house with its ten-foot ceilings or higher, ornate crown moldings, and enough hidden rooms and corridors to put the Chatsworth maze to shame. Halls of portraits with serious faces stared down on her, as if wondering how on earth someone like her belonged there. She had the same questions. And her kids? She cringed. Good grief, they’d have this place torn apart in an hour.
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