Chapter 16
Thanks for your help, Snowflake.
I’ll never forget it.
All the best, Kate
Note from Kate to Henry
Kate
The words on the note seemed completely insignificant in light of everything that Henry had given me.
Not only had he saved me from the storm, but thanks to him, I’d also felt like a proper human for a few hours.
I would miss that feeling even more than I would miss the luxury.
I had grown so used to having no home, no security, and no comforts that I hadn’t questioned my extremely precarious state of instability over the past few months.
Now that I knew it could be different, the thoughts I’d successfully repressed since my mum’s death came flooding back.
“Stop it,” I chided myself, and drew a little heart in the top right-hand corner of my note.
I put it on the kitchen table in the exact same spot where Henry had left his own note earlier that morning.
Part of me wanted to wait and say goodbye in person, but leaving felt hard enough as it was, harder than it really should have been.
It was best this way. I only wished I knew if and when I’d see him again.
I shouldered my rucksack and the clothes bag with my blankets.
They were clean, dry, and folded neatly, and smelled like lavender.
At least their scent would remind me of The Darlington and Henry for a couple of nights.
I scanned the penthouse apartment one last time before stepping out into the wide corridor and pulling the door shut behind me. There was no going back now.
I made my way to the lift, with its old vintage display.
I pressed the call button and watched the needle move from left to right as the lift ascended, until finally the door slid open with a ding.
I stepped inside and pressed the button for the first floor.
My stomach dropped as the lift descended.
The ride took no more than a few seconds, but it felt like minutes.
By the time the lift door opened, the weight of my rucksack seemed to have doubled.
I took a deep breath and exited, but my steps faltered as I entered the foyer for the first time—last night, Henry and I had entered the hotel through the underground car park. Not even Henry’s lavish apartment could have prepared me for the sight.
The sheer grandeur of The Darlington’s lobby took my breath away.
The ceiling soared impossibly high, adorned with intricate stucco details accented by golden elements.
I had to tilt my head back to fully take in the tops of the marble columns.
They were awe-inspiring, majestic in a way that made me feel even smaller and more insignificant.
Massive chandeliers lit the foyer. They were made not of modern stainless steel like the ones in Henry’s apartment but of matte gold.
Despite their size, the metal flowers and vines entwined around them made them seem delicate and gave them a graceful charm.
Everything in the foyer gleamed and sparkled in their light, especially the imposing gold statue at the centre of the space.
It depicted two women in flowing dresses, so lifelike that I felt an irresistible urge to touch them, curious about whether their skin would really be cold.
Clusters of armchairs and sofas in beige and gold made the foyer feel cosy despite its splendour.
These were flanked by side tables adorned with lavish floral arrangements, with not a single wilted leaf among them.
This must have been the source of the sweet scent that filled the foyer, mingling with the gentle strains of music coming from a man playing a gleaming grand piano near the fireplace.
I’d already felt out of place in Henry’s apartment, but this wasn’t just another world—it was another unfathomable galaxy.
I cautiously placed one foot on the sage-and-terracotta carpet, identical to the one I had seen on the top floor.
It stretched across the entire lobby, leading to a grand staircase that ascended to a set of polished wooden double doors.
What lay behind them? I crept towards the exit, my steps barely audible against the backdrop of the soft music.
“Miss!” a voice called suddenly.
It was clear that I was being addressed, because besides an older woman wearing the same uniform as Grace, I was the only person in the lobby.
I turned to face reception, with its counter of gleaming marble.
Behind it stood a man in a suit. He rounded the desk and approached me, looking so impeccable that had it not been for a name tag pinned to his lapel reading “Mr. Gardner,” I might have mistaken him for a hotel guest.
“Where are you going?” asked Mr. Gardner.
I pointed at the exit. “Out.”
“And who are you?”
“Kate.”
Mr. Gardner looked at me, waiting.
“Hamilton,” I added. I hadn’t said my last name in a long time. Where I came from, last names weren’t important.
He scrutinised me. “You aren’t a hotel guest.”
“No, that’s why I’m leaving.”
“Hold on a moment, please.”
“OK.”
Mr. Gardner turned on the heels of his highly polished shoes and hurried back to reception to make a phone call. He didn’t take his eyes off me, speaking so softly that I couldn’t hear his words. He remained behind the counter after hanging up. Had he called Henry to let him know I was leaving?
“Miss?”
I whirled around. Another man had slunk up to me as silently as a cat. Something like this would never have happened under normal circumstances, but I’d grown careless in the face of such an abundance of luxury. This man was bulkier than Mr. Gardner, but no less elegantly dressed.
“Yes?”
“Come with me, please.”
“Where to?” My heart sank to my knees.
“Follow me, please,” the man replied firmly, ignoring my question. He pointed the way, but I didn’t move.
I didn’t know this man, nor did I trust him. Henry had been an exception, but I did not like this guy. I stood frozen in place and weighed up whether I should make a run for it. I was sure I was faster than him. “Please, Miss.”
I got ready to sprint. “What do you want?”
“I have to check your bag,” the man explained calmly.
“Why?”
“Because you entered the hotel without permission.”
So that’s what this was about. They thought I’d broken in and was trying to smuggle out stolen loot through the main entrance. If I really had stolen something, I’d have climbed out through a window, but I didn’t say that. “I was with Henry.”
The man frowned. “Mr. Darlington?”
“Yes. Henry Darlington,” I said. “There are photos of us!”
The man’s gaze flicked from me to Mr. Gardner, who had overheard our conversation.
Wordlessly, Mr. Gardner picked up the phone again, but this time he didn’t lower his voice.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Darlington. Apologies for disturbing you, but we have a Kate Hamilton here at reception who claims to have been your guest.”
For a split second, I feared irrationally that Henry would deny it, but at his answer, Mr. Gardner nodded.
He hung up and approached me with graceful steps, offering a friendly yet somewhat stiff smile.
“Please excuse the misunderstanding, Miss Hamilton. Mr. Darlington will be here in a moment. May I offer you something to drink while you wait?”
I shook my head.
Mr. Gardner inclined his head in a slight bow before returning to his position behind the reception desk.
The dapper brute who had appeared so suddenly had now vanished just as quietly.
I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to expect next.
As I debated whether to sit down, the door marked “Staff Only” near reception swung open, and Henry stepped into the lobby.
Grace’s words flashed in my mind, but I had to disagree with her.
Sure, Henry looked good in a T-shirt and jogging bottoms, but in the blue suit he was wearing now, he was even more attractive.
He stopped before me. “What are you doing?”
“You tell me. I was trying to leave when your receptionist and his bouncer stopped me,” I answered, gesturing at Mr. Gardner. He was staring intently at his computer, clearly listening to us.
Henry eyed me. Only now did he seem to register my rucksack and the clothes bag full of blankets. He frowned. “You want to leave?” he asked, as if I hadn’t just told him.
I nodded. What other options did I have?
“Why?” His surprised tone confused me.
“Because the storm is over?” I said, my inflection making it more a question than an answer. As happy as I was to see Henry again, the pain of saying goodbye, something I’d been trying to avoid, was growing stronger by the second.
He took a half step towards me, slowly, as if he wanted to give me time to flinch back. For some reason, though, I felt no need to run from him. “Stay,” he said.
I was sure I’d misheard. I looked at him, bewildered. “What?”
“Stay,” he repeated.
“Here? At the hotel?”
“Yes. We have a couple of free rooms. You can have one.”
“You’re kidding,” I said, resisting the urge to pinch my own arm. Perhaps I’d fallen asleep on the sofa and was dreaming. Henry couldn’t possibly want me to stay at The Darlington. But his next words proved me wrong.
“Yes. I’m serious. Stay with me.”
“Why would you ask me something like that?”
“I don’t know.” He shook his head as if he didn’t quite understand either. “Because I can?”
I shouldn’t stay. I wanted to, but I shouldn’t. This wasn’t my life, and it wasn’t a good idea to become dependent on Henry like this. Leaving felt far too difficult already, and that was just after one night together. “You know I can’t afford to stay here, right?”
“I don’t want your money, Kate.”
“So what do you want?”
“Nothing. Just for you to stay.” He reached for the strap of my rucksack. Not to take it off me, but because it had become twisted and he wanted to fix it. He barely touched me, and yet I felt a tightness in my chest as his fingers brushed against me.
“But why?” It just didn’t make sense. He didn’t make sense. He was Henry Darlington. The whole of London was talking about him and his family. Perhaps even the whole country. But me? I was a nobody. Just some homeless girl with problems he’d never understand.
“Because I’ll feel better knowing you have a roof over your head,” he explained matter-of-factly, as if I should have figured it out myself. But we barely knew each other, and there were thousands of other homeless people in this city. Why me?
“Kate . . .” Henry stepped even closer to me.
His smell washed over me, and I felt the warmth of his body.
I looked up. His blue eyes were hypnotic, and I didn’t know how I would ever tear myself free of them.
“I said it last night and I’ll say it again: I don’t expect anything of you.
This hotel has one hundred and thirty-seven rooms, around fifty of which are vacant right now.
We have plenty of space, and you’re pretty tiny. ”
“I’m not that small,” I protested.
Henry smiled. “You go ahead and tell yourself that, if it makes you feel better.”
I didn’t smile back. I was still too preoccupied with his offer. I wasn’t used to getting anything for free. Everything came at a price. And most of the time, I didn’t pay in pounds, but with my conscience and morals. Yet Henry had made it very clear he wasn’t asking for either.
“If I stay here, I’d like to earn my room,” I said. I never wanted to owe anyone anything again. “I could help clean rooms. Or work in the kitchen.”
“You don’t have to do that. We have enough staff,” Henry assured.
“Perhaps. But I want to help.”
“So you’d stay if I let you work,” he said, sounding almost hopeful, which made no sense to me. He was doing me a favour, not the other way round.
I swallowed hard. His gaze was so intense that I felt I should avoid his eyes—but I didn’t. My heart raced uncontrollably, drowning out all logic. “Yes, I . . . I think so.”