Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
MABLE
The car drives along an endless stone wall that has cut off the beautiful view.
It was all a bit overwhelming when we landed.
It wasn’t the breathtaking view or his parents and Cordelia.
It was all the security that really brought home who exactly the man I’m seeing is.
It can be easy to forget when it’s only the two of us.
Up ahead, I see huge iron gates that are already opening for us. The security team is in cars trailing behind us and in front. The cars even have those little flags on them you see presidents have. I’m going to need to do a crash course on Solaria.
Wells has been quiet, but his hand still rests on my thigh. “You okay?” I ask. He gives me a warm smile.
“Yes, I was going over the list of things I need to handle after we’re settled in.” Right, he helps run a whole freaking country. That’s got to keep a person busy.
“She seemed nice,” I say because we hadn’t talked about it. Well, we couldn’t with her right there.
“What?” His brows pull together, not knowing who I’m talking about.
“Cordelia.”
“Oh.” Caldwell shifts slightly. “Did she?”
“She offered to show me around.” I pick at a thread on my skirt. “Maybe I was wrong about her. At the wedding, I mean. I was so nervous, and Eleanor was—” I stop, not wanting to sound like I’m complaining about his family before I’ve even met the rest of them.
I don’t want to be overly sensitive. It could be my own insecurities that I’m putting onto other people.
What the hell do I know about family dynamics and having a friendship with the opposite gender?
I went to an all-girls college. Boys were the last thing on any of our minds.
There wasn’t time even if you wanted to.
He doesn’t answer right away. The car slows as we crest a hill, and then I see it.
The house.
No, that’s more than a house; hell, it’s more than an estate. It’s a freaking palace!
Honestly, I don’t even think palace is the right word for how grand it is. It’s limestone with tall windows and wings stretching in different directions. It’s beautiful in a way I’ve never seen before. It’s the very definition of regal.
It’s full of history and probably so many stories. I bet it has a library.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, trying to play it cool.
Caldwell’s hand on my thigh gives a small squeeze. “It’s just a house.”
“That’s not a house. That’s a museum that happens to have beds.”
He laughs, low and genuine, and some of the tension leaves his shoulders. “Wait until you see the beds.” He leans over and kisses below the shell of my ear. I lick my lips, very much looking forward to seeing the bed with him.
The place is giant, and I should feel intimidated, but I don’t know; there is this rightness to it. I can’t tell you why; it’s just a feeling. One I can’t name, the same as when I met Wells.
The car rolls to a stop, and a man in formal attire opens my door before I can reach for the handle, and I freeze, suddenly unsure of the protocol. This is a different world, and I don’t want to offend anyone or go against any customs. I’m being welcomed into their home. I want to respect that.
Do I thank him? Is that condescending? My mind races with questions. Caldwell is already out of the car, coming around to offer his hand, and I take it because it’s the only thing that feels solid and safe.
“Welcome home, Your Highness.” The man bows slightly. “And welcome, miss. We’re so pleased to have you.” I stand up straighter; his posture is impeccable.
Your Highness. It still sounds strange. Like a movie. Wells is a Highness. The same man that laughs at my strange quirks and buries his face between my thighs every night. It’s truly mind-blowing now that I’m in his world.
“Thank you,” I manage, and the man smiles—warmly, genuinely, nothing performative about it. It has me relaxing.
“Mrs. Halloway has been preparing for your arrival,” he says, leading us toward massive doors that are already swinging open. “She’s quite excited to meet you.”
“Mrs. Halloway?” I ask.
“Housekeeper,” Caldwell fills in for me. “And unofficial sovereign of the estate. She’s worked here since I was a child.” I can see the fondness in his expression.
An older woman appears in the doorway, gray-haired and sharp-eyed, wiping her hands on an apron. She takes one look at me and beams. It’s a genuine smile that makes me feel welcome.
“Oh, you brought her. Finally.” She steps forward and takes my hands in hers, squeezing tightly. “Look at you. Exhausted and overwhelmed and still standing. Good girl.” She fusses over me. The same way my grandma did when she was alive.
I blink, surprised by the contact, by the immediate warmth. “It’s nice to meet you,” I tell her.
“Come inside, come inside. I’ve put you in the east wing, Caldwell.
And don’t you start with me. I know what rooms you prefer, but a girl has needs and also should have space to breathe.
” She ushers me through the doors, and I catch Caldwell’s eyes over her shoulder.
He’s smiling, something fond and relieved in his expression.
I don’t know this woman yet, but I already want to hug and kiss her. I also want to corner her and get all the stories I can about Wells; I bet she knows the good ones.
I try to keep my composure when we step into the entrance hall; it’s all marble with skylights above that let the sun flood in and light up the space.
I try not to gape at the chandelier or the paintings that look old enough to be in textbooks. I’m overstimulated by it all, but it’s fabulous. A freaking massive double staircase winds up on either side.
“Your room first,” Mrs. Halloway decides. “Then tea. Then you can explore or rest or whatever you need.”
She leads us up the right staircase, down a corridor lined with windows overlooking gardens I can barely process. I could probably spend months exploring this place and not see half of it.
“When was this built? Is this modeling original? Did you import the marble from Brazil? Such a rare blue quartzite.” I keep peppering them with questions. “Sorry,” I say after they’ve answered the fifth one for me, but clearly, we’ve got the time because we’re not in the room yet.
“Mable loves history and information. She obsesses over it,” Wells informs Mrs. Halloway, who is a few strides ahead of us.
“I just feel like I should know these things. I’m so behind already. Is there a library?”
“The public one or the one here?” Caldwell asks.
“Wells,” I whisper, elbowing him in the side. “Don’t be talking dirty to me right now,” I tease, making him throw back his head and laugh.
We stop walking, and I see that Mrs. Halloway is watching him with a bright smile.
“This is good.” She nods. “Perfect.” I’m not sure if she’s talking to us or not, but when she pushes open the double doors at the end of the hallway, I forget what we were talking about.
“Oh my,” I breathe out.
This isn’t a bedroom; it’s a massive suite with a sitting area and fireplace and windows that must face east because the afternoon light is pouring in.
The bed is enormous, draped in cream and pale blue, and there’s a desk in the corner that makes my fingers itch with the need to organize something.
“Mrs. Halloway,” Caldwell says, amused. “You’re spoiling her.”
“Someone should.” She pats my arm. “I’ll send up tea in twenty minutes. Take your time.”
She winks at me before disappearing back through the doors. I stand there and suddenly don’t know what to do with my hands.
“Do you like it?” Caldwell asks, watching me carefully. “We can change anything you want. I can make a few calls.”
“Don’t do that. It’s beautiful.” I walk over to the windows and pull back one of the heavy curtains to be able to see out more.
It overlooks the gardens that go on forever. Pretty sure I spot a maze in the distance; there is also a pond with actual swans. “I don’t know how to be here.”
“Be however you want.”
“I can feed the swans?” I laugh when I see my question catches him off guard.
“I don’t know if you’re teasing me or not.”
“Well, if we go out there, I surely can’t go empty-handed. I’ll need bread.”
“There is fresh bread made daily. I’ll make sure a few loaves are set aside.”
I turn from the window to see he’s still watching me. It’s intense and makes my stomach flutter.
I was trying to play it cool, but Wells saw right through it. Sure, I come from money, but this is beyond that. This is more along the lines of I own a super yacht or two. I’m unequipped for this type of wealth or lifestyle.
“Cordelia grew up in places like this. She’s comfortable here.” I inwardly cringe; my insecurities are coming through.
“You’re not Cordelia.”
“No. I’m not.” I look back out the window.
“But maybe she could teach me. The things I need to know. She offered and seemed sincere, and maybe I was wrong to—” I stop, shaking my head.
“I want to be fair. That’s all. I don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend who sees threats everywhere.
If I want us to have a chance, I have to give this a real go.
To learn and try to assimilate somewhat to your lifestyle. ”
Caldwell is quiet for a long moment. When I turn back, he’s closer, close enough to touch.
“Come here,” he says softly. He doesn’t wait for me to move; he pulls me into him. “I don’t want you to be Cordelia. Nor do I want you to have to assimilate,” he says, I rest my head against his chest. “I want you to be you, nothing more.”
I nod against his chest, smiling. That’s sweet of him to say, but I still want to learn everything that I can.
Soon the tea arrives, and I talk Mrs. Halloway into joining us.
I listen to her and Wells tell stories about growing up here.
Playing hide and seek in the maze, the time Wells almost drowned his brother in the pond, and all the other stories they’re willing to share.
I eat them all up, ravenous for as much information as I can get.
He teases Mrs. Halloway about her temper when anyone tracks mud through the kitchen.
I laugh, and some of the tightness in my chest loosens.
All of that sounds normal, and I can even picture the kids running around.
Maybe this is possible. Maybe I can learn this world without losing myself.
Maybe Cordelia really is trying to help.