Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
COLD REALISATION
James
Beth’s light touch travelled over my side, and I sprawled, naked, on top of the quilts. At dawn, she’d woken me with her mouth, and I’d returned the favour. We’d gone back to sleep tightly held together, giddy with love and lust and all that lay in between.
Our future lay at our fingertips. A beautiful day had dawned, pale sunlight filtering through the gauze curtain, hitting my closed eyelids.
I had so much planned for us today. We’d grab breakfast, make a picnic, then head to the garage.
The thought of not being behind the wheel unnerved me, but here, on my estate in bright daylight, I’d try to get over myself.
“We’ll drive to the waterfall steps,” I murmured.
“You have a waterfall?” Beth chuckled and laid a kiss on my side, the second time she’d done so.
I opened my eyes to watch her.
I hated the deep, silvered scars, but they bothered me less now she’d seen them.
“Man-made. A rerouted stream falls over a series of wide steps, all the way down the hill. On hot days, my family would go there for lunch, and we’d paddle in the shallow water and splash our way up and down.”
“Sounds idyllic. Shame it’s not summer, I’d like to have done that.”
I frowned. “In summer, we’ll do it as often as you want.”
Beth only shook her head like she couldn’t imagine being here then. Well, tough, she’d have to get used to the idea. If I wanted her—and I did, endlessly—and she wanted me, we’d make this work.
She rolled up to sitting and rubbed her eyes, her dark curls tumbling forwards. “We’re going to need to go back to the summer house and get our stuff. I need a change of clothes and, um, I have to take my pill. I’m cutting it fine already. I should’ve taken it last night.”
I made a grumbling noise of agreement because of her subject change but got up and started locating our clothes.
The room we’d slept in was my bedroom, but not the room I’d grown up in.
Richard had moved me to a new one. There had been no reasoning to it, and I had gone along with the change, not caring at the time.
An idea sprang to mind. “We’ll shower here then go get our clothes.”
Beth raised her head, her eyes sparkling. “You’re insatiable.”
My mouth dropped open. “What about that is anything to do with sex?”
“Are we showering together, in this image of yours? Getting all wet and sudsy, working each other into a lather?”
Well, yes. We are now.
The long, hot shower swallowed another hour of our morning.
Then longer, in order to dry Beth’s abundant hair.
Her hair apparently expanded under water and, though she’d plaited it to keep it manageable, the chill that still held outside meant she couldn’t leave it wet.
We borrowed an old hair dryer of my sister’s and tried to tame her curls.
I loved it, the domesticity. I loved Beth smiling and shy, the wildness of her curls around her head. I loved knowing that, even if I looked away, she was within arm’s reach. She needed to be near me as much as I needed her.
Life had started.
I loved that feeling so hard it hurt.
Mum’s book sat on my dresser. I grabbed it down and handed it to Beth. “Find page one-five-three.”
She squinted at it. “Tennyson? You’re so fancy.”
I grinned. “Mum’s. She always said she felt ill-educated compared with Dad, so she read the classics and books of poetry to try to be well-read.” It made sense now, knowing she hadn’t come from a wealthy family.
Beth thumbed through the pages, locating the poem. “Do you want me to read all of it to you?”
“God, no. We’ll be here forever. I remember Mum trying to once, and we were bored to tears. But one line stood out…”
I moved to stand behind her, reading over her shoulder, smiling into her hair. “You know how I can be quiet sometimes?”
Beth made a humming noise. “And I know why now. Which makes me want to get you to talk all the more.”
She would regret those words in a moment.
I placed my finger on the line.
She read, “Who are wise in love, love most, say least.”
She paused, working through the words of the poem. Then she wheeled around. I snatched the book, closing it.
“Stop!” she said, her expression one of mock-outrage, though her gaze was soft.
I hadn’t agreed to keep quiet, even if talking about the L word scared the life out of her.
“Love most, say least,” she muttered.
I pulled her under my arm and kissed her, still smiling. Feeling clever.
And I didn’t say another word.
On the way downstairs, we stopped off at the suite of rooms I’d planned on living in after I inherited.
Though still opulent, with panelled walls and intricately painted ceilings, they were entirely private and homelier than the state rooms. Bright, and empty of antiquities.
Easier to imagine adding furniture. Or to have kids running around.
I voiced the idea to Beth, and she gave a startled laugh.
“Kids? You want babies?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t a choice for me, having children, an heir, but the thought had been distant. But even if I’d been content to pass on my home to a distant family member, or maybe even to my sister’s children, if she had any, I still wanted my own. I wanted a happy family around me again.
“Aren’t you worried you’ll screw them up?” Then her eyes widened all the more, and she clutched the marble mantlepiece. “Shit, I didn’t mean that how it sounded. I’m sorry. I’m projecting onto you. I know that’s my fear.”
“You don’t want children?”
Beth’s face turned pink. “No! I mean, what sort of mother would I make? I’m under-educated, filled with issues, no family. I’ve got zero idea of how to be a good parent.”
What was she saying? “You’re kind, loving, smart, full of energy and excitement. Everything else would work out.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince me. Don’t. I’d never make a human go through what I went through as a child.” She took a step back and folded her arms, her shoulders rising like she was trying to get away from something unpleasant.
“Why would they? You’d love your own children. You’d be there for them. They’ll have the best childhood.”
I planted my hands on my hips, suddenly worried. Maybe even annoyed. I hated how Beth’s parents had let her down and made her feel this way. I hated more that we weren’t further along in our relationship for me to tell her all I felt. How full of love she’d be if she let down her barriers.
Our second stand-off in less than a day ensued, and I tried to stomp down the sheer and sudden disappointment that welled in my gut. Not at Beth, but at life, and how it couldn’t be straightforward. At there always being obstacles in the way.
From outside, the rumble of tyres sounded on the road below. A car. It grew louder. More than one vehicle.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Beth moved with me.
We strode to the nearest window.
“No.” My uncle was due in a couple of days, but before that, only the Hinchcliffes had any business being on the estate. And Ella, but she didn’t drive, plus I knew from her text message earlier this morning that she’d gone to the village.
We peered out of the glass at two vehicles slowly passing by.
The first car was Richard’s. A dark-green Jaguar. The limousine was unknown.
I took hold of Beth’s shoulders and pulled her into my arms. “It’s my uncle,” I said, absorbing her instant shiver.
Like Beth, my first instinct had been fear, but no. This was good. Richard needed to march to a different tune, and there was no better time to start than now.
“How should I act?” Beth asked in a worried tone, stepping ahead of me along the hall.
“Be yourself.” I frowned. “Please. I don’t ever want you to be anything else.”
“I don’t think I’m going to like this man,” she confided. “Last night, Ella told me something about him. She called him manipulative and said he tried to control you.”
There was truth in that. “Later, I’ll tell you exactly why my uncle is the way he is. Try to see through it. I need to change my relationship with him, and it’ll be hard. But I still want him in my life. He knows everything there is to know about this place. I need him.”
Then I slowed. Richard had a habit of making rude statements without thinking. If he was impolite to Beth—which surely he wouldn’t be; he had responded positively when I’d mentioned her before—I didn’t think I could handle it. This couldn’t end in a fight.
“He’s a…prideful man. It won’t be easy for him to change, but he will. I’m sure of it. If he’s in any way difficult, I’ll speak to him in private.”
“What are you going to tell him about—” Beth pointed between our chests.
“The truth.” I let a soft smile broach my lips.
“Which is?”
“That you are part of my life.” Beth’s mouth formed an ‘O’, and I took her hand. Kissed it. “I thought we were over you being freaked out.”
“No,” she muttered.
We started moving again, rounding the corner to the main staircase.
“I don’t think that will ever happen. Not around you.”
I huffed a laugh as we descended and eyed the double doors below.
They swung open with a sense of occasion, a cold wind swirling up to meet us on the stairs. My uncle marched through, and his gaze snagged on me.
But my attention caught on who followed. A woman I’d never met before, but whose picture had been sent to my email by my uncle.
“My Lord,” Richard barked to me. “Just the man. Come down here, now.”
He smiled, and a cold realisation unfurled around me. My throat closed, and my chest seized.
The young woman walked to the middle of the hall and paused, flipping her long yellow hair over one shoulder like she was on display. An older man brought up the rear of the party but hesitated, staring.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Richard continued. “You’ve waited this long, and finally the moment has arrived. Leave that girl and come meet your bride.”