The Heir and the Spare (21 page)

“This is the secretary for Clarice Elliot, the Duchess of Winchester. The Duchess requests an audience with . . .” a brief pause while the man on the line rustled a paper “. . . a Miss Evangeline Gray. Please call to set up an appointment.” He rattled off a series of numbers that I quickly jotted down before slamming the phone onto the cradle. I picked it up again just for the satisfaction of slamming it down again.

Now she wants to meet me.
Twenty years and suddenly she has an interest. Isn't that just peachy?
What if I don't want to meet her, huh?
I stabbed the pen into the paper next to her number, leaving a divot in the pad.

Emotions swirled inside of me: anger, frustration, happiness, heartache, relief, sadness, bitterness. I couldn't reach out and grab just one; they were all too tightly woven together in an overwhelmingly large ball. I'd kept them at bay too long.

She can't order me around. I won't meet her.
Screw my fifth quest.
A tremble started in my stomach and spread through my body.
Why wasn't I good enough for her?

All the years of rejection and the not knowing why bubbled over. Add my horrendous day, and great wracking sobs took over my body. Tears coursed down my cheeks. I curled up on the bed, grabbed my pillow, and released all the pent-up feelings of rage and inadequacy.

Startled by a loud knock, I tried to muffle my sobs. Intending to ignore whoever it was, I rolled to face the wall. Pushing my pillow away, I struggled to get control.

Deep breath in. And out. Deep breath in, blow it out.

“Evie, open up. Please?” It was Edmund. He rapped again.

I scrunched my eyes tight. Edmund was the last person I wanted to talk to. So, of course he'd pick now to try and work through this mess.
About par for the day.

“Evie? I know you're in there. Can we please talk?” His weary voice filled my ears. “I'm not leaving until I talk to you.”

No intention of getting up, I crossed my arms over my chest. Lying as still as I could, I tried to hold my breath. Which was impossible, since I'd just had a massive cry and was still gasping for air.

“Okay. Fine, I get it. You're mad, too. I'll wait. I'll sit here until you're ready.” The door creaked in protest as he leaned against it and slid himself to the floor.

Ugh. Take a hint, dude, get lost.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks with the sleeves of my sweater. Black streaks of mascara stained the cuffs.
Whatever
. Knowing I was a mess, I got up and yanked the door open. Edmund nearly fell backwards.

“I don't want to talk right now. Please, just go away.” The sight of him sent my tear ducts back into production.

Get a hold of yourself, Evie.
A tear escaped and trickled down my cheek. I looked at the ceiling to stop crying. It sort of worked.

Edmund stood up quickly and cupped my face in his hands. His thumb traced the track of my tear, wiping it away and sending shivers through me. “Are you crying?”

I sighed. “Yes, I'm crying.” My voice didn't sound right thanks to my plugged nose. “It's been a really rough day and I'd just like to be left alone. So, can you go?” I feebly pushed against his chest.

“Evie,” he whispered, my name a plea. “Please, tell me I'm not the reason you're crying?”

The way he looked at me made me want to bawl even more. From his face, I could tell the idea that he'd made me cry was torturous.

I looked up at him, wanting him closer and hating myself for it. “Today was really crappy and yes, you're part of that.” I pulled my face away from his hand. “But you're far from the only reason.”

He pulled me into his arms and kissed my forehead. “I'm so sorry. I never wanted to make you cry. I was a complete arse.”

“Yes, you were.”

He leaned me back and smiled softly. “Well, at least we can agree.”

I smiled and sniffed back the snot. “I should have told you. I know that. I just . . . I didn't know how and . . .” I shook my head and looked at the floor. “It's stupid.”

“What do you mean? What's stupid?” His hand came up and brushed my hair over my shoulder.

Blowing out a deep breath I met his eyes, knowing I had to tell him my full rationale. “I didn't want you to pick me over Jax because of Clarice. I wanted to be certain you wanted me for me. Not because of some relative who'll probably never even know me.”

“That's not stupid.” He cupped my face again. The warmth of his breath caressed my lips. “I can understand that.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “And for the record, Jax was never any competition. From the first moment I saw you, I knew . . .” His words trailed off in a whisper and slowly his mouth moved toward mine.

I could've turned away. His lips hovered in a silent last chance to deny him before they touched mine. The kiss was sweet and gentle. It felt like an apology.

He wants me. Only me.

My knees wobbled and I leaned into him. Releasing my face, his hands slid down my arms and came to a stop on my hips. A gentle tug and I was pressed against him. His lips met mine again.

Hands splayed against his back, I pulled him with me, into my room. He kicked the door closed behind him as I attempted to back us toward the couch.

“Oh!” I said, breaking our kiss, surprised to find the desk now under my bum.

My pencil holder clattered to the floor, spilling pens and pencils everywhere, and the pictures on my desk toppled over, along with Mom's glittery Eiffel Tower.

“I'll get the, um . . .” He grinned crookedly and gestured to the floor.

I stood and set my photos upright. My top was twisted and bunched up in the back. I straightened it and tried to compose myself before Edmund finished.

When he stood, he set the cup down and his eyes scanned the pad of paper with Clarice's name and number hastily scrawled across it.

“Did she call?”

Inhaling sharply, I nodded. “Well, someone who works for her called. They want me to call and set up an appointment with her. How weird is that?”

“What about your quests? Are you going to finish them? What was the next one?” He grabbed my hands in his and pulled me to the bed. He lay on his back; I curled next to him and rested my head on his chest.

“Ironically enough, to meet her.”

“What do you want to do?”

My fingers played with the seaming of his blue shirt. “Part of me just wants to meet her and get it over with. But another part wants to run back to Seattle and never face her.”

“But you have to.”

“Why?” Under my ear I could hear his heart beating reassuringly steady.

“To get answers. Whether you like it or not, she's the one remaining person who connects you to your mum. Meet her, even if it's just to spit in her eye for how she treated your mother. Christ, Evie, this has the potential to change your life. You need to find out what this means for your future. And if none of these reasons are good enough, remember, your mum wanted you to meet her.”

I propped my hands on his chest and used them to cushion my chin, meeting his eyes. “What about what I want? What if I really don't want to meet her? Why should I come running just because she calls?”

“Because this is huge. I'll go with you if you want me to.” He slid his arm behind his head for support and looked down at me.

“You'd do that?”

“Of course I'd go with you. I've met the duchess before. She's a bit of an old hag, but she doesn't scare me . . . anymore.” He grinned and ran his fingers through my hair, playing with it. “You need to do this.”

Sighing, I said, “I know.”

I laid my head back on his shoulder. His fingers continued combing through my hair, relaxing me. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation.

“How do you suppose the papers found out?”

My eyes snapped open. Edmund just asked the million-dollar question.

“Good morning,” Edmund's sleepy voice rumbled underneath me.

I lifted my head off his chest and looked into Edmund's handsome face. “Morning?” I asked groggily and glanced at the window. Bright light glimmered through the curtains. “Oh my God, what time is it?” I craned my neck to see the clock on my desk: 7:00 A.M.

Holy shit.
We just spent the night together.
In bed.

Heat rushed from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. No guy had ever seen me in the morning. Well, aside from Dad. I knew I had cry-smeared makeup and my hair was probably a rat's nest. Top that off with morning breath and what a charming picture I must make.

“I can't believe we crashed like that.” I tried to roll away, but he held me close.

His nose nuzzled my hair. “I didn't have the heart to wake you. Well, that, and I wasn't quite ready to let you go.” He popped up on an elbow and studied my face. “You look absolutely fetching in the morning.”

That did it; right then and there I melted. “You're trouble, you know that, right?” I couldn't help but smile. He looked incredible. The lids of his eyes, still a little heavy, and his disheveled blond hair gave him a carefree, easy sexiness.

“What do you mean, trouble?” His voice sounded deeper after sleeping. I loved that I now knew this.

“Just that you know exactly what to say and do to make me feel tingly all over.”

He raised an eyebrow and gave me that irresistible crooked grin. “I make you tingly, do I?”

I chuckled.
You're doing it right now
. Clearing my throat, I said, “Um . . . I should go hop in the shower.”

Awkwardly, I attempted to climb over him. Before I got very far his hand snaked up, stopping me. Perched atop him, my heart pounded against my ribs as he slowly rose and brushed a soft kiss across my lips.

“You should know, you're trouble, too.” He grinned rakishly at me.

A girlish giggle, that I wish I could've stopped, escaped my lips.

Leaning down, I kissed him. Eagerly responding, his hand tangled through my messy bed head. A quivering sensation low in my stomach told me I needed to put a little space between us. The way he made me feel was unreal.

Pulling away, I looked down at him. One breathless word came out. “Shower.”

“Okay, let's go.” He grinned at me with a glint in his eyes.

I gasped, shocked yet thrilled at the same time. Hopping off him, I shook my head.

“So that's a no on the shower then?” He chuckled as he sat up. “I'll see you at breakfast.”

I glanced back just in time to see him stretch. His muscular abs peeked out from beneath his now wrinkled undershirt.
Oh yum.
I sighed, then turned and spun the water dial to full blast.

Stepping into the noisy dining hall, I dodged students coming out the door and spied Edmund and Preston at our table. He'd changed into a long-sleeved gray T-shirt and, unfortunately, he'd brushed his hair. The sexy bed head of this morning was gone.
Bummer, I think that's my new favorite look
.

My stomach clenched, remembering the warmth of his arms wrapped around me. We'd slept together.
No, I slept next to him.
Nothing happened.

Inhaling sharply, I made my way to the breakfast line. The next time I peeked at him, Edmund saw me and smiled.

Good morning, belly butterflies
. I smiled and waved. Preston returned it.

“I take it all's fine in Edmundlandia again?” Caroline asked as she, Marissa, and Suzy joined me with their trays.

“Very funny.” I laughed. “But yes, we worked it out.”

“Glad you're sorted.” Caroline grabbed two apples and handed one of them to Marissa.

“Any news on your gram?” Suzy asked as she placed a mini-box of Corn Flakes and a carton of milk on her tray.

I grabbed some toast and a yogurt as we went farther down the line and paid. “Yeah, I had a message on my machine last night. Her secretary called to set up an appointment.” I scrunched my nose. “I feel like I'm going to the doctor.”

“Have you rung them back?” Suzy asked as we walked to the table.

“I did. I actually called this morning . . . after I showered.” I shot Edmund a glance as I sat, blushing as he winked at me.

“And?” Marissa prompted.

“And now I have an appointment with the Duchess of Westminster.” I used my loftiest voice, fake accent and all. “Saturday at two.”

“You're finally getting to meet your gram, that's pretty exciting,” Caroline said, tucking her black bob behind her ear.

“That's one way to look at it.” I could tell from the look in Caroline's eyes she wanted to talk about Clarice.

“Do you still want me to go with you?” Edmund took a drink of his tea.

I nodded. “I'd rather not meet her alone.”

“Then I'll be there.” He nudged his shoulder into mine. I smiled, grateful he'd be there tomorrow.

The more I thought about meeting Clarice, the more nauseated I felt. She disowned her own daughter. What kind of person does that? I was terrified she'd be as cruel to me as she was to Mom. I didn't want to burst into tears in front of her and Edmund.

“You okay, Evie?” Preston asked from across the table.

I shook my head, snapping out of my thoughts. Everyone had finished eating and it was time to go. “I'm good. Just lost in thought.”

My mostly uneaten breakfast got dumped in the trash. Slipping my coat on, I waved goodbye as we parted.

Edmund and I walked toward the side doors and Preston fell in step beside me. Normally he went with Suzy.

“You're really nervous, aren't you?” Preston's voice was softer than normal.

“It's that obvious?” I stopped and turned to face him.

“Don't let her get to you. She can only hurt you if you give her the power to. So don't give it to her.” He pulled against his backpack straps as he spoke.