The way his gaze continually moves to my lips. Like, all the time. That’s a pretty big sign that he might want to kiss me too.
He thinks I don’t notice, but I do. Or maybe he doesn’t even realize it himself.
But I can tell that the Ashton that spends afternoons watching racing videos on his iPad while I paint, the one who asks me to give him a lesson in painting, and the one who likes it when I read out loud to him, is not the same Ashton Carrington who drove that yellow Charger like he owned the road.
Something has shifted within him. Softened. And while that may have given me hope about maybe… the way he now does his best to shut it down takes away that hope.
On Monday morning, leading into my fifth week staying at the castle, Mrs. Theissen arrives at my door. “Sophie?” She pushes the door open.
No one waits for me to get up to open the door because they know it takes so long. Which also means I always have to be guest ready when I’m in the sitting room.
Especially when things get a little heated with Ashton.
I’m so glad he shut the door.
Not that will be happening again.
“Hi, Mrs. Theissen.” The castle manager comes by every morning around this time, with tea and fresh fruit or cookies. After our chat the other day, I’ve almost looked forward to her stopping by. I still hate the way people need to look after me, but I’m better at walking more every day. I’m working on my exercises, and my toes are no longer purple, so I know I won’t be staying here forever.
I’m not sure what will happen when they deem me healed enough to go back to living in my own apartment, but I’ll deal with that when the time comes.
I look up from my canvas as Mrs. Theissen enters, and give a quizzical smile at the woman behind her. She’s tall and graceful, and the way she’s dressed suggests she’s not castle staff.
“Good morning, Sophie.” She brings the tray over to my table. “That looks beautiful,” she says.
She says that every time I’m painting. “Thank you. And thank you for the tea.”
Staying here has given me a new appreciation of the beverage. It must be Mrs. Theissen’s British upbringing that insists I drink more tea than coffee. These days, the only time I have a coffee is when Ashton brings it from town for me.
“I wanted to introduce you to someone.” Mrs. Theissen gestures to the woman. “This is my daughter, Fern. She’ll be staying with us for a time.”
“Your daughter?” I try to keep the surprise out of my voice, but it’s not easy. Yes, Mrs. Theissen is a Mrs, but thinking about her married is not where my mind has ever gone.
And definitely not thinking of her with children.
Especially not children who look like this.
Fern is gloriously blonde, with Instagram-ready waves flowing past her shoulders. She has the creamy complexion of a Bridgerton heroine, and her simple jeans and white sweater proclaim her as Princess Kate slim.
I don’t need a scale to tell me that my new sedentary life with many snacks has resulted in my putting on a few pounds.
“Hi.” I wave, sucking in my stomach, just because. “I’d get up but…” I point to my foot propped up on the chair beside me.
“Yes, I heard about your accident.” Fern’s voice is soft but clipped, a posh school in England type of accent, the type Spencer had when he came backfrom boarding school. He lost his after a month, but I can tell Fern’s is legit. “I do hope you’re feeling better.”
“It’ll be great when I can walk on my own, but it’s not too bad. Everyone is taking great care of me.” My words tumble out, almost on top of each other.
Fern smiles kindly, probably because she can tell I’m intimidated by her. “So glad to hear that.”
“Fern is here for the Sea Queen Ball,” Mrs. Theissen explains. “I’ve been telling her for years she needs to come for it, but she’s never had the time off.”
“What do you do that keeps you so busy?” I ask politely.
“I’ve modeled since I was sixteen,” she says.
Of course she’s a model. It’s better that, than some sort of Good Samaritan/Humanitarian/Human rights lawyer who serves the world so well that she deserves a halo and an all-expense paid shopping trip to Sephora.
Fern could totally rock a halo. And she doesn’t need Sephora.
