Chapter 33
Sophie
Another week goes by without another kiss. Or even talking about the one that happened.
Ashton still visits, but some of the closeness has faded. His walls are back up, quicker than I would have believed possible.
And it’s because of me. Because I overstepped and kissed him, and he didn’t want me to.
I tell myself that, but it sure felt like he wanted the kiss as much as I did. I may not have the experience that Ashton does, but I like to think I can tell when a man wants to kiss me.
I never would have taken the chance if I didn’t think the kiss would be reciprocated. I made the mistake thinking there was more between me and Martin after our one date, and I don’t want to ever feel like that again.
So I made sure with Ashton.
I watched the way Ashton has changed. The way his smirks have become smiles, how the condescending tone in his voice has become less. The softness in his gaze when he doesn’t think I’m looking.
The way his gaze continually moves to my lips. Like, all the time. That’s a pretty big sign that he might want to kiss me too.
He thinks I don’t notice, but I do. Or maybe he doesn’t even realize it himself.
But I can tell that the Ashton that spends afternoons watching racing videos on his iPad while I paint, the one who asks me to give him a lesson in painting, and the one who likes it when I read out loud to him, is not the same Ashton Carrington who drove that yellow Charger like he owned the road.
Something has shifted within him. Softened. And while that may have given me hope about maybe… the way he now does his best to shut it down takes away that hope.
On Monday morning, leading into my fifth week staying at the castle, Mrs. Theissen arrives at my door. “Sophie?” She pushes the door open.
No one waits for me to get up to open the door because they know it takes so long. Which also means I always have to be guest ready when I’m in the sitting room.
Especially when things get a little heated with Ashton.
I’m so glad he shut the door.
Not that will be happening again.
“Hi, Mrs. Theissen.” The castle manager comes by every morning around this time, with tea and fresh fruit or cookies.
After our chat the other day, I’ve almost looked forward to her stopping by.
I still hate the way people need to look after me, but I’m better at walking more every day.
I’m working on my exercises, and my toes are no longer purple, so I know I won’t be staying here forever.
I’m not sure what will happen when they deem me healed enough to go back to living in my own apartment, but I’ll deal with that when the time comes.
I look up from my canvas as Mrs. Theissen enters, and give a quizzical smile at the woman behind her. She’s tall and graceful, and the way she’s dressed suggests she’s not castle staff.
“Good morning, Sophie.” She brings the tray over to my table. “That looks beautiful,” she says.
She says that every time I’m painting. “Thank you. And thank you for the tea.”
Staying here has given me a new appreciation of the beverage. It must be Mrs. Theissen’s British upbringing that insists I drink more tea than coffee. These days, the only time I have a coffee is when Ashton brings it from town for me.
“I wanted to introduce you to someone.” Mrs. Theissen gestures to the woman. “This is my daughter, Fern. She’ll be staying with us for a time.”
“Your daughter?” I try to keep the surprise out of my voice, but it’s not easy. Yes, Mrs. Theissen is a Mrs, but thinking about her married is not where my mind has ever gone.
And definitely not thinking of her with children.
Especially not children who look like this.
Fern is gloriously blonde, with Instagram-ready waves flowing past her shoulders. She has the creamy complexion of a Bridgerton heroine, and her simple jeans and white sweater proclaim her as Princess Kate slim.
I don’t need a scale to tell me that my new sedentary life with many snacks has resulted in my putting on a few pounds.
“Hi.” I wave, sucking in my stomach, just because. “I’d get up but…” I point to my foot propped up on the chair beside me.
“Yes, I heard about your accident.” Fern’s voice is soft but clipped, a posh school in England type of accent, the type Spencer had when he came back from boarding school. He lost his after a month, but I can tell Fern’s is legit. “I do hope you’re feeling better.”
“It’ll be great when I can walk on my own, but it’s not too bad. Everyone is taking great care of me.” My words tumble out, almost on top of each other.
Fern smiles kindly, probably because she can tell I’m intimidated by her. “So glad to hear that.”
“Fern is here for the Sea Queen Ball,” Mrs. Theissen explains. “I’ve been telling her for years she needs to come for it, but she’s never had the time off.”
“What do you do that keeps you so busy?” I ask politely.
“I’ve modeled since I was sixteen,” she says.
Of course she’s a model. It’s better that, than some sort of Good Samaritan/Humanitarian/Human rights lawyer who serves the world so well that she deserves a halo and an all-expense paid shopping trip to Sephora.
Fern could totally rock a halo. And she doesn’t need Sephora.
“But lately, I’ve been dipping my toe into directing,” she continues. “I’ve done a few commercials and have just finished my first documentary.”
“She’s followed a family from Ukraine,” Mrs. Theissen says with a mother’s pride. “Beautifully done.”
“You’re a bit biased.” Fern slips an arm around her mother with a smile. “But thank you. You’re sweet.”
Someone should fit Fern with that halo after all. “Sounds wonderful,” I manage.
I wish Stella were here. My sister refuses to let anyone intimidate her.
“So is staying in a castle,” Fern says with real excitement. “I’ve visited Mum a few times over the years, but usually she comes home to see us.”
“Us?”
“My brother, Patrick. He takes after Mum and works at Buckingham Palace as a private secretary to Queen Camilla.”
“I believe Miss McKibbon knows him,” Mrs. Theissen adds.
“I didn’t know you had children,” I confess. Ten years away from my father meant I missed out on a lot.
“My pride and joy. Their lives keep them busy, but thankfully they’re very good at keeping in touch.” There’s a hollow feeling in my stomach after she says that, mainly because I’ve never heard, nor will ever, my mother speak about Stella and me like that.
“I know your father is pleased you’ve been staying here,” she continues. “Mr. Carrington isn’t here this morning, I see.”
There’s only a little disapproval in her tone.
“I expect him any minute, actually.”
“Carrington?” Fern frowns. “As in—”
“Door’s open for me already,” Ashton calls from the hall. “Which means you’re—Mrs. Theissen,” he adds with surprise. His grin transforms into a polite smile when he sees I’m not alone. “How are you today? And—”
Ashton comes to a screeching stop at the sight of Fern. Of course he does. She’s a beautiful woman. But then… it gets worse.
“Fifi?” After four weeks of daily interactions, I’m now able to read Ashton’s expressions. He’s surprised to see Fern. Shocked, even.
But… happy. I can tell that too. My stomach sinks as low as it can go. Is this why Ashton never—
“Ashton?” Fern practically squeals with delight. “What—? How—? Where—? Mummy, you never told me Ashton was here!”
“I didn’t know you were acquainted with Mr. Carrington,” Mummy—Mrs. Theissen says sourly.
“What a lovely surprise.” Fern—Fifi?—throws long arms around Ashton, rising on tiptoes to press herself against him. “So fun! But why? Did you know I was coming? Let’s catch up, shall we?”