He nodded, his grip tight, almost frantic. “I know. I know. You matter, Sarah. You matter more than anyone.”
A tear slipped down my cheek as I held on to tenuous hope that he spoke the truth, and I melted into him as he kissedmy tears away, murmuring apologies and endearments over and over as he did.
Twenty-Three
THEO
It was strange how effortlessly I’d gone from desiring autonomy and solitude to craving the company of a beautiful, quiet Scot and her sharp wit. Unfortunately, as much as she’d forgiven me, Sarah had put some boundaries in place for now. That meant she turned down (several times) my request that she stay at Ardnoch Castle with me. Instead, she’d decided to remain at the farmhouse. I attempted not to take it too personally, knowing she deserved space from me after what I did. Yet, I was afraid to give her too much of it.
I’d wanted to make love to her after she’d forgiven me, but she asked if we could wait until she felt safe with me again. Knowing she didn’t feel safe with me was like a knife to the gut.
What had this little mouse done to me?
No one who knew me would believe anyone could have such power over Theo Cavendish, let alone a shy country housekeeper. Little did they know she was so much bloody more than that.
Since Sarah wouldn’t stay at Ardnoch and I hadn’t been invited to stay at the farmhouse, I convinced her to meet in the village every day. We both wrote separately in the morning(and I missed writing with her, asking her advice on a scene, or returning the favor for her) and then spent the afternoon together. Sometimes our sessions were interrupted by work calls I had to take, but at least it was something.
Though I swear it felt like I hadn’t touched her in a million years.
It had been three days since I’d followed her here. I’d brought the Christmas presents she’d left behind, which won me some brownie points. But I still felt a distance between us. A disconnect. And it was painful.
I wanted to take things slow for her, but I also had to remind her about why we were so good together. If it had been only physical attraction, both of us would’ve grown bored by now, so it wasn’t just about that. But physical connectionwasimportant. Today I had it in mind that I’d steal a kiss and see how it went from there.
The club was busy at this time of year, and I was a last-minute booking, which meant I was lucky to secure a room at the castle and not be ousted to one of the estate’s lodges. However, my room was smaller than I was used to, and it didn’t have a sea view, which was unfortunate. Closing the door behind me as I left for the day, I nodded to a few members in the corridor on my way downstairs but made no attempt to stop and chat. I was on a mission.
Walking along the balcony above the great hall, I peered down to see guests seated near the impressive fireplace. The carpeted hallway led to the landing where three stained glass windows spilled light into the gigantic space.
The great hall was exactly what you’d expect of a Scottish castle with expensive Aubusson carpets, classic lavish furnishings, and tremendous double doors that led outside. Two chesterfield sofas faced one another at the big stone fireplace,which was currently lit. Guests who were not familiar to me sipped coffee and read on their phones.
A footman dressed in a traditional black tailcoat and white gloves waited off to the side. I gestured to him as I took the last few steps down into the great hall. The young man strode smartly across the room to meet me.
“Good afternoon, sir.” He bowed his head.
“Good afternoon. I’d like my rental car brought around. Cavendish is the name.”
“Of course, Mr. Cavendish. I will see to that immediately.”
“Thank you.”
Clicking of heels in the distance drew my gaze toward the entrances that led to other reception rooms in the castle. Sure enough, a familiar, tall, and very beautiful woman appeared through the arched entrance that led to her office.
Aria Howard. Ardnoch’s hospitality manager and my old friend’s fiancée.
North had tried calling me three times since Jared showed up at the cottage, but I wasn’t ready to talk to him.
Aria was a voluptuous, long-legged beauty who managed the estate with such efficiency and calm, she made the job look easy when it must be anything but. Her father was legendary film director Wesley Howard, and she’d grown up in Malibu. A far cry from the council estate her fiancé North had grown up in as a foster child in Scotland. I’d admired North when I’d learned his story. He’d pulled himself up from shit and turned himself into an award-winning actor.
He was a good man.
I hadn’t expected the arsehole to think so little of me as to betray Sarah and me to her cousin like I was … like I was a monster who’d kidnapped and defiled an innocent princess. Now that I knew that was what he thought of me, I didn’t have time for him.
Or his fiancée.
Aria wore a neutral expression as she came to a stop. In her heels, she was the same height as me. “Mr. Cavendish, two officers from Scotland Yard are here to see you,” she told me in hushed tones. “They’re in my office waiting.”
Oh, for Pete’s sake. Had my brother not ordered his watchdogs off my back? “Wonderful,” I muttered and gestured for her to lead the way.
Instead, she fell into step beside me. “North has been trying to reach you.”
