Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
We’re standing in the middle of a towering arched stone bridge that carries the Llangollen Canal across the River Dee, far in the valley below. I’m staring with incredulity as a barge glides right by us, followed by a couple of canoes full of people. I have never seen anything like this in my life: the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct is literally a stream in the sky.
‘This was probably Taran’s favourite place in the whole world,’ Ash confides, turning his back on the canal and sitting down.
He tugs off his boots and slides his feet between the railings that protect pedestrians from the long drop down to the river below. A couple of people walk past on the footpath behind us, but he casually pats the space beside him, so I sit down and do the same, letting my legs dangle off the side of the bridge. Just as well I don’t suffer from vertigo.
‘I reckon he would have ended up being a structural engineer if he’d lived,’ he adds. ‘He loved it up here, but he loved it down there even more.’ He nods at the river. ‘We used to go swimming and float on our backs, looking up at this giant structure.’
‘Swim in more rivers,’ I say.
‘Hey?’
‘Taran’s words, what he said to you just before he died. If he’d known how little time he had, he would have swum in more rivers.’
‘Stayed up late more often to watch the stars, cherished the sound of the rain on the roof and the birdsong in the woods,’ Ash finishes softly, repeating what he told me all those years ago.
‘Yes.’ My eyes prick with tears as I stare down at the wide green river stretched out below us in the valley. ‘I thought of those words when I was gearing up to leave Knap, along with what you said to me on the platform: ‘Follow your own path. Life is too short not to do what you love. You and I know that better than most.’
‘I’m sorry for everything you’ve had to go through to get here, but I’m so proud of you for chasing your dreams,’ he says huskily, reaching across to squeeze my shoulder.
‘It kills me that you can’t do the same.’
He lets me go, his hand falling back to his lap.
‘What does Beca do for a career?’ I ask.
He casts me a sideways glance, his brow furrowing as he returns his gaze to the river.
‘She works in fashion PR, but does a lot of stuff remotely.’
‘I’m sorry you feel as though you’ve lost another friend.’
He blows a heavy breath out through his lips. ‘I wish you’d been able to meet her under different circumstances.’
‘She said a similar thing.’
‘She did?’
‘Yes, when she came to see me.’
‘I think you would have got on.’
I consider this for a moment. ‘It doesn’t sound like we have a whole lot in common.’
‘True. I mean, she wouldn’t drink a pina colada out of a real pineapple or play pool in a weird bar or buy a dress off the rack at a tourist market,’ he says, his expression teasing. ‘But she has a wicked sense of humour and she’s kind. I honestly don’t know what I would have done without her all these years.’
‘You’ll win back her friendship, Ash,’ I reassure him.
‘I’m going to try,’ he replies solemnly.
This is our last stop of the day. Ash said it was on the way home, but I know he’s just got it in his head that he needs to beat Evan to it.
We go back to the cabin soon afterwards so I can get changed out of my bike gear before returning home. He drives me down to the farm track and there’s a marked difference to his riding style when I’m not wearing proper protection. I felt safe out on the open road, but he’s so cautious that I’m just as relaxed, if a little cold, with only a jumper, shorts and his black leather jacket on.
He slows to a stop and puts his feet down. The sun is low in the sky, bathing the hedgerows in gold.
My arms are around his waist, my chest pressed to the broad expanse of his back. I’m reluctant to move.
Without saying a word, he reaches behind and gently lays his hand on my leg, his bare skin against mine giving me instant goosebumps.
I flatten my palms against the taut ridges of his abdomen because I want to feel his muscles contracting again, and I smile to myself when they do. His fingers move downwards and tuck into the crease behind my knee, his thumb stroking the top. I tighten my grip on him and rest my forehead against his back, brushing my lips against his T-shirt before straightening up.
‘Watch yourself on the exhaust,’ he reminds me as I climb off his Triumph Scrambler – I know the make of his bike now.
‘Leave it on,’ he says as I start to remove his jacket. He climbs off the bike.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask.
‘I’ll walk you as far as the workshop,’ he replies.
We wander along the farm track in comfortable silence, past the rows and rows of timber piled up in the yard behind the sawmill. A lorry dropped off a whole bunch of logs yesterday, and soon they’ll be processed and turned into beams and joists for houses. The sound of machinery carries on the wind while I’m working, as does the smell of freshly cut wood. It’s nice. I like it. I like everything about this place, actually.
I glance across at Ash to see the sun shining on his face, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw, the shadows beneath his high cheekbones. When he meets my eyes, his are a clear light brown.
Pain lances my heart.
‘Hey, what happened?’ he asks with confusion and concern, halting at the look on my face.
I shake my head at him. ‘I don’t know if I can do this.’
‘Give it a chance,’ he implores.
I shake my head again and quickly walk away, fighting back tears. Beca might not be made for him, but how can I be if I don’t want the only life he can offer me? I don’t fit in with the people who were at his parents’ fortieth – I don’t want to fit in with them. I’m a gardener, not a viscountess in the making, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I’ve only just found my feet. I worked so hard to get where I am, went through so much with my parents. There’s too much at stake if things sour between Ash and me. Not just my fragile mental state, because there’s no doubt that I’d be completely fucked if I had to go through anything like Madrid again, but my whole job would be in jeopardy. How could I possibly continue to work at Berkeley Hall if I couldn’t stand to be in Ash’s vicinity? I couldn’t. It’s too much of a risk.
He jogs to catch up with me. The outbuildings are up ahead, blocking our view of the cottages.
‘This is so complicated,’ I murmur.
‘It doesn’t have to be.’
‘We’re from different worlds.’
‘Come on.’ He sounds exasperated. ‘It’s not the Dark Ages.’
‘How could we possibly work?’ I ask him. It’s a reasonable question.
‘We just will,’ he says, halting behind the furniture workshop, which is as far as he can go without being seen.
‘You’re being idealistic.’ My tone is growing increasingly brittle.
He places his hands firmly on my biceps and stares down at me. ‘I’m not.’
‘Ash, you barely know me. Not really. I sure as hell don’t know you as well as I thought I did.’
‘Rubbish,’ he snaps. ‘You know everything about me that matters. And if I don’t know you as well as you want me to, then we’ll fix that.’
‘Why? So we can fall head over heels in love with each other and have our hearts broken again? We have no future. We can’t get married. We can’t have children. Not just because I’m a gardener and you’re the son of a viscount, but because I don’t want this life and I would never want my children to be born into it either!’
He gapes at me as my voice rises to a crescendo, his face paling with shock. I feel as though my heart has been through the sawmill.
‘We should stop this now before it’s too late,’ I say in a low, tortured voice.
We’re still staring at each other, so I see the exact moment that his expression clouds over.
That’s my cue to leave. But only a split second after I begin to walk away, he cuffs my wrist with his hand and my own momentum has me hurtling right back into his arms.
‘It’s already too late,’ he says roughly, his eyes blazing.
And then he releases my wrist to take my face in his hands and I stare at his blackening pupils and know that he’s right.
Our mouths crash together and he walks me backwards until I hit the workshop wall. Sensation flames inside me, full-body shivers rolling up and down my spine as his tongue parts my lips and presses against mine. My blood is molten, caramelised, and I’m kissing him back just as deeply, just as fervently. His hips pin me to the wall, his jeans rough against my bare legs. His hands dive inside his leather jacket that I’m still wearing, gripping my waist, and mine are on his neck, his collar, his shoulders. His mouth breaks away from my lips to skate along my jaw and I’m staring at the sky, panting frantically and wanting him like I’ve never wanted anything or anyone. I’d have him right here, right now, if it wasn’t for the sound of Celyn shouting to someone nearby.
I scramble to push Ash away, my body flooding with cold air as I cock my ear towards the cottages.
Harri shouts something back – they’re just making plans for tonight.
I meet Ash’s eyes. His chest is heaving. Reaching out, I hook my finger through his belt buckle, tugging him closer. He moves his hands to my waist and I rest my chin on his shoulder as we stand there a moment, trying to recover.
‘Don’t overthink this,’ he says in a low, firm voice.
I lift my head to look at him. ‘How do you know I overthink things?’
‘I know you .’
His pupils have relaxed to allow some of the light brown to come through, but his eyes are serious.
I nod at him and he curves his fingers around the nape of my neck, pressing a soft kiss to my lips before sliding his hands over my shoulders and slipping his jacket off my arms. He releases me and backs up.
‘I’ll text you.’
I nod and watch him walk away, still trying to catch my breath.