Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
IMOGEN
On Tuesday morning, I receive several notifications that the items I spent most of Saturday purchasing are en route to their intended destinations. Surely by now, Alexander must know I spent a lot of his money, yet he hasn’t said a word. It’s like waiting for the trapdoor to open and the noose to tighten around my neck. I’d rather he call me out on it than keep up with this agonizing silence.
After climbing out of bed, I wander to the window. Parked outside the front entrance is an ominous black SUV, with its rear door open, and Alexander’s bodyguard, Steven, is standing next to it.
Alexander must be going out. I wait for him to appear, a knot tightening in my stomach. Tending to those cuts on his hands had been a bad idea. It made him appear more human somehow, especially given how softly he’d looked at me, and how grateful he’d sounded when he said thank you, even if he didn’t tell me how he’d gotten them in the first place.
I’m not yet ready to examine the feelings he evokes within me—feelings I don’t even know how to describe. All I do know is he makes me uncomfortable in a way that’s troubling. If I’m to succeed in escaping this marriage, it’s crucial I dehumanize him in some way. His gratitude coming hot on the heels of what he did for Douglas’s daughter isn’t helping me to do that, though.
His assistant Richard appears first, followed by Alexander, his dark suit and navy blue tie impeccable, his thick, wavy hair neatly combed. I use the drapes as camouflage in case he catches me checking him out.
He gets in the car without looking back at the house, let alone up at my rooms. While I never expected him to, a wave of disappointment washes over me. I push it down into my stomach. No time for self-pity. I have plans.
After the car disappears down the driveway, I call Maisie, pretending I need Alexander for something. When she tells me he’s left for London and won’t be back until evening, I grin. Perfect. After showering in record time, I dress in jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and boots. It’s not the best attire, but it’ll have to do until I can organize some proper riding gear. I still have Alexander’s credit card, so maybe I will buy something for myself next time, too.
Leaving my phone in my room in case he returns unexpectedly and wants to stalk me again, I jog down the stairs to the first floor without bumping into a soul. The morning sun hits my face, and I tilt my head back and close my eyes, soaking up the rays. The heat here differs from California, but I’ll take it. From what I’ve read, English winters are a combination of wet and cold, with the occasional dumping of snow thrown in. Not that it matters to me. I’ll be long gone before the start of winter. I need Alexander to kick me out by fall if I’m to stand a chance of taking up my position with Zenith .
Even though I haven’t been here all that long, I’m so homesick and lonely I could cry. But like Saskia said to me, I have to make the most of the time I’m here, and getting on horseback again is a good place to start, especially knowing Alexander won’t turn up and spoil my fun after using his stalking methods to find me. If he tracks my phone, it will only lead him to my bedroom.
The stable block is buzzing with people when I arrive, and it takes me a little while to spot Will in a fenced-off area, lunging a beautiful, dappled gray stallion.
I wander over, expecting someone to stop me and send me back to the house, but no one gets in my way. Not that I’d obey them if they tried. As much as I dislike the idea of using the “Don’t you know who I am?” phrase, if it gets me what I want, I will.
I lean on the wooden fence and watch Will at work. He’s so focused on his task, he doesn’t spot me until he brings the stallion to a halt.
“Hi!” I wave and beckon him over.
He leads the stallion over to where I’m standing, his gaze flitting to the stable block before returning to me. “What can I do for you, Imogen?”
“I thought we might have our first riding lesson.” Alexander appeared before Will could make the offer to teach me, but I know he was about to.
“Bit difficult considering I’m not supposed to talk to you.”
My eyes widen. “Says who?”
“My boss, Mr. Osborne.”
And we all know who gave Mr. Osborne that instruction, don’t we? I rub my lips together, clenching and flexing my fingers. Alexander is dead. Dead .
“But,” Will continues, “I never have been all that good at following orders.”
I break into a grin. “I don’t want you getting in trouble on my account.”
“I can take care of myself.” He opens the gate and leads the stallion through, closing it behind him. “No point in drawing unnecessary attention, though.” He points to a field behind the stable block. “See that paddock?”
“Yes.”
“Walk through there. On the other side, behind that line of trees, there’s another paddock. Wait for me. I’ll bring a horse to you.”
“Are you sure?”
“You giving me a way out?” He cocks his head. “Go. Before I change my mind.”
About fifteen minutes later, Will appears, leading a docile-looking mare with four white socks and a thick white blaze that runs from her forehead to her muzzle toward me.
“This is Lottie.” He lowers the stirrups. “She’ll do right by you.”
By that he means she’s unlikely to bolt or buck and throw me off, and while I can handle a spirited horse, that saddle looks awfully easy to fall from. It’s probably for the best that I start off with a calm mount.
“Thank you, Will. I mean it.”
He nods curtly. “Here, give me your foot. I’ll give you a leg up.”
Once I’m in the saddle, it’s not as scary as I feared, but when I tug on the reins, Lottie unexpectedly backs up several feet, and I almost lose my balance.
“Whoa, careful.” Will snaps out a hand, taking hold of the reins and bringing Lottie to a stop. “Gentle with her mouth.”
He spends the next thirty minutes sharing how riding English style differs from what I’ve been used to, positioning my legs and hands in the right places, and showing me how I have to rise and fall in a trot. By the time he releases me and lets me ride solo, I’m away, Lottie is responding well, and I even manage a short canter.
I can’t stop smiling. I’ve missed this. College took up so much of my time that something had to give, and for me, that something was horseback riding. Given what a waste my degree might turn out to be if I end up stuck here, I sometimes wonder why I bothered, or why my parents encouraged me to attend in the first place. It’s the reason I haven’t picked up my drawing pad since I arrived. It’s too painful.
I stop the despondent thought in its tracks. I will use my degree. As soon as I’m free I’ll be able to join Zenith and begin my life as it should have been.
“You’re a natural.” Will grins.
I bring Lottie to a halt and dismount. My legs are a little wobbly, but I’m buzzing. “Would you be able to give me one or two more lessons? Just until I feel confident enough to go out on my own.”
He shrugs. “If you like. Here, I’ll lead her back. Wait a few minutes, then follow me.”
Taking hold of Lottie’s reins, he sets off across the fields. After five minutes, I head back, too. All this cloak and dagger is ridiculous, but I understand Will’s reticence. He hasn’t said as much, but I’m sure he needs this job, yet he’s risking the wrath of his boss to help me. Alexander should be grateful for Will’s help instead of warning him off.
Jerk.
As soon as I enter the house, Saskia appears at the top of the stairs flanked by a couple of staff members carrying suitcases. She must be going somewhere. Lucky her. I can’t wait for the moment when I’m packing my bags to leave here.
“Can you put those in the car and tell the driver I’ll be there shortly?” she says to the staff. Once they’ve left, she addresses me. “Imogen, you okay? You look as if you’ve lost a tenner and found a pound.”
I shrug. “All good.” Hooking my thumb at the door, I say, “Going somewhere?”
“Yeah.” She rolls her eyes. “Xan’s orders. Urgent business stuff that needs Tobias and me to take care of it, apparently.”
“I see.”
There’s no hope of me befriending Saskia if she’s never around. Even Tobias could be an ally, but if he’s gone, too, that leaves me with no one. Nicholas and Christian are polite enough, but I wouldn’t trust them an inch.
“Will you be gone long?”
“A week, maybe a little longer. This time.” She angles her head to one side. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Just a little lonely.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you in a strange land, surrounded by people you don’t know, married to a man you only met two weeks ago. I wish I could be around more, but there’s always something that needs taking care of.”
“It’s okay. I’ll manage.” She gives me a sympathetic smile, but as she walks away I call her back. “Hey, Saskia… do you think there might be a role in one of your companies for me?”
I hate having nothing to do, and the De Vils have many businesses, including construction. I’d love to be able to gain some work experience ahead of my role with Zenith.
Her smile turns into a grimace. “We always need good people, but it’s not me you need to have this conversation with.”
The momentary bubble of hope bursts. She’s right. It’s Alexander I have to convince, and my gut tells me my chances of him agreeing are somewhere between slim and none, but unless I ask, I won’t know. I’ll speak to him tonight after he returns from London.
It’s seven that evening when Alexander’s car pulls up outside the house. I watch from the window as he exits, looking as pristine as when he got in earlier this morning. The man never wrinkles. It isn’t normal. Then again, neither is he.
After waiting for what I consider an appropriate amount of time to allow him to shower and change, I leave my rooms and go in search of him. As I approach his office, Richard appears from out of thin air and stands in front of the door.
“Can I help you, Mrs. De Vil?”
I don’t like his tone, nor the position he’s taken up. Looking him squarely in the eye, I say, “I’d like to see my husband.”
“He’s busy right now.” He folds his arms and widens his stance. “I’ll let him know you’d like to see him once he’s free.”
What the hell is going on here? “Are you saying I can’t go in there?”
“I’m saying that Mr. De Vil asked not to be disturbed.”
“And that includes by me?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to. Great. I’ll have to wait for another time to ask Alexander about working. I spin on my heel and head for my rooms, but as I turn the corner where my rooms are, Maisie catches up to me.
“Don’t take it personal, Ms. Imogen.” She glances behind her as though she’s expecting someone to appear. Lowering her voice, she adds, “Tuesdays aren’t good days for Mr. Alexander.”
Interest piqued, I narrow my eyes. Probably best I didn’t get to see him tonight, then. “What do you mean?”
“I mean”—she checks behind her again—“he’s never in a good mood on a Tuesday night. It’s best he’s left alone. Trust me.” With a kind smile, Maisie shuffles off, leaving me staring after her with only one question swirling through my mind.
What does Alexander do on a Tuesday that puts him in such a bad mood?