Chapter 11
ELEVEN
TOMORROW, I’D TELL HER
James
Twice more during the afternoon, Beth dashed to the bathroom. Each time, I followed. Kept her warm. Took her back to my bed.
“Ugh,” she complained. “This is such a waste of the weekend. We could’ve been doing so many more interesting things.”
“We’ll miss the party tonight,” I agreed.
The family would be leaving soon to travel to the next estate, to a party thrown by one of their clan. The castle would be empty this evening.
I didn’t mind missing out.
“That isn’t exactly what I was thinking. If you know what I mean.”
Every time she spoke like that, I grew hot, and not from the fever. It had again subsided, and I was more than aware of all I’d told her. Happy, in fact, to have done so. A lightness filled me.
“Can I ask something?” she said. “Would we be speaking like this if you hadn’t have gotten sick?”
“Does it bother you, the things I told you?”
“That you’re royalty? Nah, I’m fine with that. When I get my energy back, I won’t freak out at all.”
A smile broached my lips, and I caressed her bare shoulder with my fingertips. Drunk on the ability to do so. “It’s just a title.”
“Are you in line to the throne?”
My smile twisted into a grimace. Well, yes.
Beth rolled her head back in time to catch my expression. “I knew it! The lost prince.”
“Earl, not prince.” Looping my arms under her, I pulled her up so she stared right into my eyes. No fever affecting me now. “I’m nowhere near the top. It’s not even a thing.”
Beth’s eyes were the prettiest shade of brown. Warmth shone from her. She carried a spiky edge around her, but underneath lay pure graciousness.
“I’ve never done this before,” I said, my words rushing like they had when I’d been in a fever. Except now, I felt fine. I didn’t want to lose the momentum of change, of the connection being forged. “It almost hurts, this closeness. I’m such a stranger to it.”
“Me, too.” Her soft smile echoed mine. “I’m not one for hanging around. No cuddling, even after sex. Romance, love, none of that for me. You’re the first man I’ve slept with overnight.”
Heat stole over me again.
Beth’s gaze turned curious. She reached out and touched the apple of my cheek. “You blush whenever I mention sex. Does it bother you, me talking like that?”
I shook my head, my headache making me regret the move. “Don’t hide anything from me. I want to know everything about you.”
She blinked. “Compared with you, there’s nothing interesting about me.”
My mouth dropped open. “I’m just one in a long line of men. The eighth, the ninth, the tenth earl. You are an absolute mystery. I don’t even know your last name.”
“Grace.”
Beth Grace. “It suits you. Give me more.”
“What do you want to know?”
I shrugged. “How did you learn to drive like that?”
“My grandfather inspired me. He was a mechanic and a car nut. Then a wild year as a teenager gave me the practice.”
“What do you do for a living? When you’re out late. It must be an interesting career.”
The light coming through the curtains dimmed a degree, and though Beth’s attention didn’t shift, her expression altered. Darkened. My question had hit a nerve.
“I’m sorry. You’re tired. Maybe you could try to eat? I’ll go get something plain.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Beth slid off me and moved to the edge of the bed.
Her spine curved, and her shoulders rose.
“Actually, I should go back to my own room. Take a shower. I haven’t checked my phone all day and I need to make a call.
You just reminded me about work. I’ve got a shift tomorrow evening, but I don’t think they’ll let me since I’ve been sick. ”
Warily, I watched her, a wealth of new sensations rising, all unknown and unnamed. Addictive, though.
“I’ll take you. Wait.” I crossed to my dresser and found her a t-shirt.
She took it with a grateful nod and pulled it over her head.
All night and through the day, I’d tried not to stare at her breasts.
We weren’t sleeping together, in the non-sleeping sense, so I had no right to ogle her form.
I hadn’t been all that successful as, for her height and weight, they seemed…
bountiful. When not so unwell, I had the feeling I’d be delirious over them.
But as her revealing, strappy top disappeared under my blue shirt, I became entranced all over again by the fainter outline.
Her nipples poking through something I regularly wore.
“Eyes up here, handsome,” came her dry voice, and she reached out and took my hand.
We left the room, and I mumbled an apology, but she shook her head.
“If only this weekend had turned out differently, huh? That wouldn’t be an issue.”
It would’ve been rude of me to disagree, so I kept silent, but every step I took was a thousand miles from where I’d been. I trusted few, let even fewer in. Beth had confidence in spades. Her wasted weekend was one of the highlights of my life.
At her door, I braced myself to go.
But as Beth continued in, she didn’t let go of my hand. I followed, blinking in the late afternoon sunlight. We’d kept the curtains closed in my room, and I moved to do the same here. Simultaneously, Beth reached in the opposite direction toward the side table where her phone sat.
We jolted, still linked by our joined hands.
“Huh.” Beth furrowed her brow. “Guess we’re going to have to let go at some point.”
Wasn’t that the truth.
We separated and went about our tasks. Beth swore, reading something on her screen. “Motherflipping fuck. What was she thinking?”
“What is it?”
She shook her head and listened to a voicemail. Her expression darkened, the voice droning on. “No. No way.”
Her hands trembled and she took the phone from her ear. “My boss from my restaurant job. She’s texted me a schedule change last night asking me to work today. Be in for the lunch run. Then the voicemail was her ranting because I wasn’t there.”
“But you weren’t meant to be working.”
“No! Not until tomorrow. I’d have been back in plenty of time, except I was going to call and tell them I’d been sick. Ask if they still wanted me. What am I supposed to do now?”
“Call her and explain the facts.”
“She’s going to fire me.”
“How can she? That isn’t reasonable.”
Beth pressed her screen then held the phone up to her ear. She paced the room, her hand to her stomach.
“I’ll give you some privacy.” I ducked into her bathroom.
On impulse, I switched on the shower to check the heat.
The water came out steaming, and satisfaction filled me.
After my cold shower, I’d made a mental note to take a look at the boiler when I went to collect food, but it seemed someone had already beaten me to the job.
“Planning another naked shower show?” Beth leaned on the doorframe. She waved her phone. “Kendra couldn’t take my call, so I have to wait for the bad news.”
“The temperature check was for you, for your shower later.”
She gazed at me.
“Can you eat?” I continued.
She inclined her head slowly in the positive.
“Then get to bed, and I’ll head down to the kitchens.”
Beth complied, still quiet, but as I reached the door, a light knock sounded. Mathilda waited on the other side. She gave me an amused look, and I left her to see her friend while I got on with finding something to feed her with.
Remembering my uncle’s call, I snagged my phone before going downstairs. He answered on the first ring while I busied myself opening the kitchen cupboards, taking out bread and crackers.
After a minute of explaining to me how my not being available affected him, he got on with the reason for his call. “You will go home.”
Richard had purchased an apartment in Manhattan, convenient for using as a base for his work. His place overlooked Central Park with incredible views. Also incredibly expensive. I had no idea how he’d managed to afford it. But he didn’t mean there.
“To Belvedere?”
“Yes, boy! Aren’t you listening? The time is up for you to be living with those men. Those Scots.” He spat the word like an insult, forgetting that, though I had an English name and title from my father, my mother had been Scottish.
I felt an equal kinship to the two countries.
“I have other plans for you. Leave tonight.”
My muscles locked. Leave? “I’m not ready—”
“No, no. Six months is long enough. Pack your bags and prepare to take your ancestral seat. I’ve already spoken to the other trustees, and they agree. You should be at Belvedere.”
“I don’t think—”
“And I don’t remember asking your opinion. You trusted me enough to appoint me your steward, and have I failed you in that? This is the best plan, therefore it’s not optional. I’ll see you at Belvedere.”
My uncle disconnected the call, and I stared at the phone.
Being one of my few living relatives, I trusted him above almost anyone else, and I had appointed him to take care of my affairs.
The memory was clear. It happened when he’d come to collect me from hospital, Ella at his side.
As an injured eleven-year-old who’d just been told my parents were dead, I’d clung to him.
Figuratively, not literally. My uncle did not like to be touched.
In the years after, I’d stuck by his side. The tutors attended to my education, rather than a school. It was only through working and training with the McRae family that my perspective had changed. I wouldn’t leave them without saying goodbye.
Nor could I give up the remaining time I had with Beth.
Richard would wait for me. I’d done everything else he and the board had asked. On this occasion, I’d make the decision.
Armed with the supplies I thought might tempt Beth, I performed a quick search of the great hall, looking for the brothers. But to no avail. If they were outdoors, I couldn’t follow in the shorts and t-shirt I had on. I’d see them tomorrow.
Back in Beth’s room, Mathilda was just leaving, and Beth appeared to be asleep. I placed the food and drink on the dresser, avoiding messing up her neat line of products, then sat on the edge of the bed. Brushed a lock of her beautiful hair back from her face.
She hadn’t invited me in this time. And now, I had to leave in the morning. So did she. I didn’t know how we’d see one another again.
I didn’t want to be alone.
“Beth?” My voice, so low, sounded plaintive even to my ears.
“Oh, thank God you’re back. Get in. Hugs needed,” she murmured without opening her eyes and she dragged me down onto her bed and into her arms.
Tomorrow, I’d tell her about the marriage covenant. About my uncle’s plans. She’d called me a friend. Implied sleeping with me would be for fun only.
That would hurt, when I left.
I already felt our connection tearing, even with the scent of her deep in my lungs.
Harder still, I needed to explain why I shouldn’t have kissed her and why I wouldn’t ask again. I’d be sliced to pieces by the telling.
Then she’d walk out of my life and take the biggest shard with her.