The Heir and the Spare (27 page)

I smiled when I saw who the last one was from.

Edmund: I miss you.

Me: I miss you too.

There was a knock on my door. Denby poked his gray head around the corner. “I brought you a dinner tray, Miss.”

I made room on the lavender bedspread. “Thank you, Denby.”

“Good night, Miss.”

“Night. Oh, and Jeeves?”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Thanks for the dance lesson earlier.”

“It was my pleasure, Miss.” He nodded with a smile as the door clicked shut behind him.

Mom's journals and books were spread around me. A Moleskine full of doodles, sketches, and cool drawings was opened in front of me. She was an incredible artist. Considering her job as an art conservationist, I guess it made sense.

Tucked inside, I discovered a gorgeous pencil drawing of Dad. She'd caught him perfectly, from the sparkle in his eye to the dimple in his left cheek.
This is coming back to campus with me.

Flipping through the pages, I stopped and traced a petal of a flower she'd drawn.
As I followed the line of ink, I wondered who else had seen these. Was this something she only shared with me?
I hope so.
The idea made me feel special.

Her loopy script filled the pages in between the doodles. My heart fluttered as I read the passages, searching for anything that would tell me more about her. A page scattered with red hearts caught my attention. “I met someone amazing today. He has the most adorable dimple in his cheek. His name's Henry.”

Dad.
I leaned forward, absorbed in her words.

“He's so friendly and his accent is charming. After class he walked me back to St. John's and asked if I wanted to study together. I'm looking forward to getting to know him.”

I laughed. “You're gonna do more than get to know him.” I couldn't wipe the grin from my face. These journals were a window to her life, her voice. I wanted to read them all right now, tonight. But I stopped myself.

Once they're gone, that's it, there's nothing more.

Like the letters, they had to end sometime, but at least with these, I could slowly work my way through them. Get to know her, see her life from her point of view.
Did she ever imagine her daughter would read these?

Closing the journal, I set it with the stack of others next to me. A sigh of contentment left my lungs. Here, in her room, it felt like she was sitting beside me.

Shifting on the bed, I pulled the tray Denby had left closer. I lifted the silver lid with a soft chink of metal against metal. A delicious aroma of carrots, chicken, and roasted potatoes wafted to my nose.

As I took a bite, another message from Edmund pinged through. Grinning, I read it.

Edmund: I'm lying here in my room, thinking about you and how badly I need to kiss you.

I pressed a hand to my hot cheek. Only five more days and we'd both be back on campus. That is if I survived Clarice.

He's thinking about kissing me. A jolt of pleasure ripped through me.
I want to do so much more than kiss.

Dear God, what happened in here?

I stepped into what had been Clarice's kitchen. Big white buckets of flowers lined the counters and floors. The large granite island in the center supported partially arranged vases.

“Morning, Miss Evie.” The cook smiled as she walked through with a cup of tea. She sat on the opposite side of the island from the two housemaids, who were busy tucking greenery and flowers into vases.

“Good morning, Letty.” I took a seat beside the elderly woman and yawned. Clarice's personal maid woke me at the butt crack of dawn, informing me that Her Ladyship wanted to see me in the kitchen in twenty minutes. It was a rush, but I made it. In fact, I even beat her. “Mmm, could I get a cup of that tea?”

“There's a pot of it behind the ranunculus,” Letty said between sips as she pointed to the counter. “Help yourself, sweetie.”

I got up and went to the counter she indicated.
Hmm, ranunculus?
“Letty, which ones are ranunculus?”

“The little colorful ones that look like tiny cabbages.”

I went to a bucket filled with light pink, pale yellow, white, and peach flowers. They did look like lovely little cabbages. They were small and round, with tightly compact petals that curled on top of each other.

Sliding the bucket aside, I grasped the pot and poured a mug full of the steaming liquid. It smelled like English Breakfast.

“All right,” Clarice said as Denby wheeled her into the kitchen. She eyed the young maids working on the arrangements. “Lucy, Anna, stop right there. Evangeline will be doing the house's flowers this week.”

“I'm what now?” I asked, leaning against the counter, mug midway to my lips.

“Studying flower identification and floral arranging. Two birds with one stone, I think. Not only will you be able to identify these flowers and foliage, you'll be capable of preparing a lovely bouquet as well.”

I took a swig and closed my eyes, steeling myself. I could think of a million things I'd rather be doing. “Okay, let's get started.”

Reaching in my pocket, I pulled out a hair-tie, twirled my long curls into a ponytail and left the end tucked under, creating a bun.

Clarice smiled kindly. “Can you identify any of the flowers?”

“Um, roses.” With a smile, I glanced conspiratorially at Letty. “And ranunculus.”

Letty grinned back at me.

“Well, at least it's a start. Let's begin with the greenery.”

The maids obliged by holding out whichever plant Clarice called out. I was only allowed to move onto the flowers once I'd passed the leaf quiz.

“Now, you know, of course, there are many more types of greenery. These are just a few.” Clarice motioned for Lucy and Anna to put the greens away.

I nodded. Why on earth do I need to know this to be a duchess? What does a duchess even do?
That's what I need to learn.

Clarice ran through the flowers. They were easier to remember. “And this . . .” She rolled her chair closer to a bucket on the floor I hadn't realized was there. Pulling a long stem out, she smelled it. “This is a peony.” She trailed a finger over the light pink petals. “It was your mother's favorite. We always have them in the house.”

Clarice's face took on a faraway look.
She misses her.
I looked away. The threat of tears burned my eyes.

Shaking her head and clearing her throat, Clarice gestured for me to begin. “Let's see what you can do.”

I chuckled internally then rubbed my hands together.
This is gonna be lovely.

“So, did my mom know how to do all this stuff?”

“Of course; she started learning as a young child. She was excellent. She'd have made an amazing duchess.”

I grabbed a stem of a flower that looked like a giant snowball. Clarice had called it viburnum. I plunked it into a silver vase and grabbed a few more. No clue what I was doing, I picked flowers and greenery willy-nilly and shoved them in.

Huh, who knew you could make flowers ugly?

“Did she want the title?”

Clarice quietly watched me create my monstrosity. I slid in one last peony and stood back. Bear grass hung haphazardly around the bottom and one side was decidedly heavier with viburnum. It was a mess.

“Wow, I'm horrible at this.” I giggled.

“Glad you said it and not me.” Letty chuckled and took her mug to the sink. When she turned around she added, “Oh my, its even prettier from this angle.” She snickered as she wiped her plump hands on her apron.

“Thanks, Letty.”

“Pull it apart; let's start this over.” Clarice motioned for Denby to wheel her closer to the table. “This time, greenery first, then the larger flowers on the bottom, save the smaller flowers for the top, and finish off with the filler flowers.” She grabbed a fern rod and handed it to me. “Lily did want the title. She was set to marry the son of a marquis. Together they would have been very powerful.”

“And she wanted that?” That didn't sound like Mom. I slowly remade the arrangement, following my new instructions.

“She tried to convince me to let her have the title and marry whom she wanted. I was stubborn and stood my ground. I had such a promising future planned for her.”

Holding a peony in my hand, I looked up at Clarice. “What about love?”

Rolling her eyes, she answered, “Our set doesn't marry for love. Love is for the young and idealistic. You spend enough time with someone and love eventually comes.”

I shook my head and tucked in the peony. “You're wrong. Love is something special. Something that if you're lucky enough to find, you don't throw away.”

Clarice sighed and fingered a thread on her soft blue knit throw. “I'll not apologize for what I did.” She paused, pulling the thread taut until it snapped off in her fingers. “But I will concede I may have been too stubborn. I doubt I would have approved of your father, but I could have met him, at least given her choice a chance.”

For something that wasn't an apology, it sure sounded like one. The corners of my lips turned upward.
If only you were here, Mom.

By the time I finished my second arrangement I'd made a pretty remarkable recovery. I took a step back and admired my handiwork. It wasn't perfect, but it was at least prettier.

“Very nice,” Clarice said, nodding in approval. “Lucy, please take this to my room.”

I smiled. Praise from her was rare. In my pocket, my phone vibrated against my thigh. Pulling it out, I saw a new text from Edmund.

“Please put your mobile away.” Clarice eyed me, then with a swift clap of her hands, she motioned for Denby to see to her chair. “Now, a car is waiting outside to take you to the stables. Grab your jacket.”

“Stables?”

“Yes, a proper young lady must know how to ride.” She took an unsteady breath.

Horses and I weren't friends. I'd tried to ride once as a child and been terrified ever since.
There's no way I'm getting on a horse.
“Can we do this later? I'm not feeling well.”

“No. Your lesson is in an hour. Go.” She waved me away as Denby wheeled her from the room.

I sighed and got my coat. Taking a moment, I pulled out my phone and read my texts.

Edmund: How's your break going? Clarice playing nice?

In the car I shrugged out of my raincoat and settled in to return Edmund's message.

Me: No, she's torturing me. Right now I'm on my way to learn how to ride a horse.

Edmund: Fun, I love riding.

Me: No, not fun. I don't like horses.

Edmund: How can you not like horses?

Me: I was traumatized as a small child. A birthday party gone horribly wrong.

Edmund: lol, well maybe you'll have a better experience today. I'd love to take you out riding sometime.

Okay,
that
I'd get on a horse for.

When I got back to campus, I spied Caroline outside sunbathing. Yes, technically spring had arrived and the sun was shining, but it was still chilly.

After running my bags to my room, I hurried to join her.

Blanket spread out in the middle of the quad, Caroline sprawled on her stomach and read a magazine. Suzy had joined her since I last walked by.

“Hey girls,” I called as I approached the short-shorts and T-shirt clad Caroline.

“Evie.” Suzy stood, sensibly dressed in jeans and a sweater, to give me a hug. “How was break?”

“Probably about as fun as you imagine it was.” I laughed and leaned to give Caroline a hug too. “Caroline, you're going to make yourself sick. It's too cold to be dressed like that.”

“Evie, this is England. When we see the sun we take advantage of it. If we didn't, we'd never get tanned or any vitamin D.” Caroline shot me a smug smile.

“Seattle weather is pretty much the same, and guess what? We take a vitamin and we have these awesome places called tanning salons, or even better, spray tans. You can avoid skin cancer later in life.”

“You're cute, Evie.” Caroline patted my knee.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Yeah, I know I am. You'll be even cuter when your nose looks like Rudolph's from the cold you're going to catch.”

Suzy chuckled in agreement with me.

Caroline made a face and stuck her tongue out at us, casually flipping the pages of her magazine. "So, Suze, who's the hot guy I saw you snogging last night?"

Suzy's head snapped up. Once she closed her mouth and stopped looking like Edvard Munch's
The Scream
, she started sputtering excuses. “I-I don't know what you mean. I was in my room all night.”

“Not when I saw you. You were at the corner of the library, plastered up against some—from what I could see—totally hot guy. Spill it.” Caroline set her magazine down, her gaze challenging Suzy to deny it.

“It was most likely just someone who looked like me.” Suzy brushed it off.

“I thought that at first, but then I saw your lime green scarf and knew without a doubt it was you. What's the big deal? You were making out with a hot guy, it's not like you were doing anything wrong—wait, were you? Who was he?” Caroline sat up and leaned close, her eyes glinting with intrigue.

Suzy glanced at me, her eyes pleading for help. I shrugged my shoulders apologetically.

“Suze?” Caroline pressed.

“If she doesn't want to tell, she doesn't have to. Sometimes sneaking around can be sexy and exciting. She'll tell us when she's ready,” I said. In my opinion, sneaking around loses its appeal rather quickly.

“Bollocks!” Caroline dismissed my words.

I put my hands up in the air and conceded defeat.

Caroline was on a mission and about to pull out the heavy artillery when Suzy finally caved.

“He's a professor.” She buried her face in her hands.