‘That’s right,’ he replies quietly. ‘I loved her too, platonically. But I was under pressure from my parents to get married and have kids—’
‘And produce the twenty-second Viscount Berkeley,’ I interrupt him. I don’t mean to sound judgy.
‘You’ve been doing your research.’
‘Evan mentioned that twenty-one generations ofBerkeleys have lived here. I’m presuming you’re the twenty-first, the next to inherit?’
‘Mmm,’ he replies shortly.
‘That’s a lot of pressure.’
He doesn’t say anything in response, but after a moment he rakes his hand through his hair. ‘Anyway, I thought we owed it to ourselves to give it a shot,’ he says brusquely.
I frown into the darkness, lost in thought. I’m holding my breath as I ask, ‘Were you going to propose to her on the steps at your parents’ anniversary party?’
‘No!’ He sounds alarmed.
‘It’s just that I heard a couple of people talking about it. “Berkeley and Bex will be next!”’
He groans. ‘You probably met some of the people I went to school with.’
‘I didn’t meet anyone. I was an invisible waitress.’
My words hang heavy in the air.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says.
‘Finish telling me about Beca. I’m sorry, we keep getting distracted.’
‘There’s not much more to say. She wanted me to talk to you. I suspect she thought I’d get some sort of closure if I did, but when I went to see her after you and I spoke last weekend, she was distraught. It was as though I’d failed a test I didn’t know she’d set me. Things have been really bad over this last week. She was so convinced I’d leave her to pursue something with you that she decided to get ahead of the curve.’
My mind is tripping and stumbling over his words, trying to keep up.
‘How could Beca think that you’d leave her for me?’ I ask, perplexed. ‘She’s known you all your life. I knew you for three days.’
He doesn’t answer my question. His face is tilted up towards the stars.
I wonder if Beca let Ash go because she believed that he’d come back to her. Does she think that if she gives him his freedom, he’ll realise himself that he and I could never work?
Because we can’t work. This isn’t a life I was born into, and it isn’t a life I would want my children to be born into either. I could never rub shoulders with the upper classes day in, day out. I don’t fit into Ash’s world and I have no interest in trying to.
Beca, on the other hand, was raised to walk through a life like this. She’d be a perfect Viscountess Berkeley, the sort of wife and mother of his children that Ash needs. And she’s his closest friend. He loves her.
They’re meant to be together. I’m the one who needs to walk away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
When I go downstairs the next morning, Siân is already up and at the kitchen sink, washing last night’s glasses.
‘Hey!’ I say in greeting.
‘Bore da,’ she replies, which means ‘good morning’ in Welsh.
‘Helô,’ I respond in turn.
‘Ooh, you sounded proper Welsh then.’
I smile and grab a tea towel.
