The Heir and the Spare (8 page)

“Abby, I . . . I can't.”

She inhaled sharply. “You're majorly crushing on him.”

With a frustrated growl, I said, “I just met him, yet all I can do is fantasize about him. About kissing him and running my fingers through his hair.” I buried my face in my hands. “I'm in so much trouble.”

“What's the big deal? You're a single lady. This is a good thing.”

“He's got a titled chick his parents love who's essentially hunting him. Edmund's not an option for me.”

“For now. That could change. Obviously if this girl chasing him hasn't caught him, there has to be a reason. As for the prince thing, don't be such a snob.”

“What? How do you figure I'm the snob?”

“Well, it's actually a reverse snobbery thing. You're counting him out just because he's royalty, rich, and totally out of your league. Give the guy a chance if he wants one.”

“Abs, dating a prince isn't in the cards for me. I don't meet any of his family's qualifications.”

Abby sighed. “Yeah, well, that doesn't mean you can't have fun. Maybe you can't marry him and produce the next king of England, but you could still make out with him. Sample his crumpets and tea, if you know what I mean.”

“Abby!” I scoffed. “You're awful.”

“You know you want to.” Her smile carried through the phone line.

“I'm hanging up now. I've got classes early in the morning.”

“Good night, Princess Evie.”

I laughed. “Morning, Princess Pain-In-The-Ass.”

Viable option for him or not, my imagination didn't care. In fact, it'd just kicked into overdrive.

“You need to spill,” Caroline said as she, Suzy, and Marissa barreled into my room Monday after classes.

“I don't know what you mean.” I smiled innocently and tucked my feet under myself in my desk chair. They wanted to hear about my trip into London. With my hands clasping the edge of my desk, I turned the chair away from them.

“How did the date go?” Suzy perched on the edge of the couch, straightening her blouse. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

I shook my head. “It wasn't a date.” I grabbed a pen; the nib danced in and out as I spastically clicked it. “We just went sightseeing. So
not
a big deal.”

“The press certainly doesn't agree.” Marissa tossed a paper at me from her spot next to Caroline on my bed.

I dropped the pen to catch the paper. Pictures of Edmund and me wandering around Big Ben were splattered on the front page. I didn't need to read it. I'd caught the story on the morning news.
Jax must be overjoyed.

Handing the paper back, I said, “We're friends. Nothing more.”

Edmund's words tripped through my head again,
it's a good thing I'm a nice guy then.
I'd been overanalyzing them all night. What had he meant? I knew what I wanted it to mean.

“Evie, Edmund's into you.” Caroline fixed me with a stare, her black eyeliner giving her brown eyes a feline quality. “He doesn't just hang out with girls
alone
. Not even us. He's always careful. Every move he makes is scrutinized and publicized. For him to just go off with you and not worry about the risks—you're special.”

I shook my head. “Or he's just helping a clueless American friend navigate London.” I wanted their words to be true, but I refused to believe it. I couldn't fall for him . . . well, at least not any more than I already had.

“Okay, you tell yourself that.” Marissa winked at me.

Rolling my eyes, I said, “Oh my gosh, you guys, you're being ridiculous.”

“I wish I could see Jax's reaction when she gets wind of this.” Caroline rubbed her hands together gleefully.

“You thought she hated you before, just wait.” Marissa's eyebrows rose. Lifting a hand to the window, she ran it through a stream of sunlight.

The sharp rapping sound of knuckles on the door stole my next words.

Caroline zipped over and opened it. With a giggle, she turned and wrinkled her nose up, winking at me. “Evening, handsome, we were just talking about you.”

Oh my stars. He's here?
I lifted a hand to my hair and tucked my curls behind my ears, nervous.

“Oh, hey, Caroline.” Surprise tinged his words. “All good stuff, I hope.”

“Naturally.” Caroline smirked.

Edmund's eyes found mine. At his smile, my cheeks burst into flame.
Damn redhead genes.

“
So, anything going on I should be aware of?” He surveyed the four of us.

“Nope, just girlie gossip.” Suzy smiled and patted the spot on the couch next to her.

Taking her offer, he sat beside her, which placed him directly across from me. He looked sexy in dark jeans and a blue sweater.

A silence descended over the room. Caroline leaned against the wall, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. I could almost see
told you so
flashing through her eyes
.

“What'd you want with Evie?” Marissa asked, now sprawled on my bed.

“Oh, um . . .” He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. “I was just coming to see if I could borrow Evie's notes from our last class. I can't read my handwriting in some bits.”

“Sure.” I leaned over and pulled out my Romanticism notebook from my bag. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” His eyes glinted as his fingers grazed mine.

I shivered at the tingles that raced up my arm.
Did he feel that?

“I'll give it back tomorrow at breakfast. That okay?”

“Sounds good.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“I was going to head down for dinner. Any of you want to join me?” Edmund offered.

Suzy stood. “I'm starving, let's go.”

Edmund looked at me, the corner of his mouth twitching up. I got the impression he wanted to say something, but he kept quiet. Standing, he followed Suzy and Marissa.

Caroline waited for me. “See, what did I tell you?” she whispered once we were alone.

“You're right. It must be love, he borrowed my class notes. That's the universal sign of passion, right? Catch me, I think I might swoon from all the romance.” I giggled.

We entered the dining hall moments behind the others.

Preston sat at our normal table. He waved but didn't stop eating.

Hanging back, Edmund let all the girls go before him. Wanting to be near him, I went last and ignored the look Caroline shot me.

“Are you looking forward to Welsington Manor this weekend?” He grabbed his tray and sidled up next to me.

“I am. I looked on the map and realized it's on the coast.” Excited, I met his eyes. “I can't wait to see a beach again. In Seattle we're right on the Puget Sound. I miss the water.” I put a turkey sandwich and a small salad on my tray.

“It's been a while since I've been to Brighton. It's beautiful there; you'll love it.”

I wondered if the press would be all over us in Brighton like they'd been in London. Brows drawn together, I spun around to face him. “Why aren't the press hounding you here like they were in London yesterday?”

“They're around, they just keep their distance.”

“Why?” I glanced out the windows, expecting to see photographers, flashbulbs popping, and noses pressed to the glass. Instead, darkness had settled. The only visible thing I could make out was the sidewalk, lit by the glow of the street lamps.

“The palace requests they give me space and privacy at school. They don't fully comply, but they do stay back, and there's nowhere near as many of them here.” Gesturing behind me, he said, “Line's moving.”

My tray bumped along the counter as I caught up. One by one we paid and joined Preston.

“Edmund told me he had a nice time in London. Did you?” Preston asked as Edmund sat down across from him.

“Yeah, it was great. It was nice to see more than just the airport and train,” I said, sitting beside Edmund.

“Just so you know, you could have invited the rest of us along, too.” Preston winked at me.

A loud thud shook the table.

“Ouch!” Preston reached under, scowling at Edmund.

Did Edmund just kick him?
I glanced at the two of them, but their faces gave nothing away.

Guilt curled inside my stomach. I didn't invite the gang because I wanted to keep my quest letters private. Plus, being alone with Edmund had been a definite motivator.

I had to invite everyone this weekend, didn't I? It would only be right. It would only
look
right. I glanced at Edmund, but he didn't notice.

“I'm actually heading to Brighton this weekend, to Welsington Manor. You should all come.”
I don't have to tell them about the letters to check out the house.
In my peripheral I caught Edmund turn and stare at me. Stabbing at the green leaves of my salad, I looked at everyone but him.

“Beach weekend!” Marissa called out and gave Caroline a high five across the table.

Suzy looked up from her plate. “Why are you going there?”

Excuses raced through my brain.
What do I say?
Edmund being in on my secret was more than enough. I'm not even entirely positive I'd been thinking with my brain on that choice. Essentially I'd given him a front-row seat to the “Why Evie Would Be an Inappropriate Girlfriend” show. But we had a connection. I knew I could trust him.

“It's for one of our classes.” Edmund jumped in, saving me. “Professor Sawyer was ranting about how so many of these old country estates have their own personal art galleries. He feels all art should be shared and for the public. So, we're supposed to visit some of these houses and view their collections.”

“If we go, we wouldn't have to be there for all the artsy stuff, would we?” Suzy asked, her nose scrunched up.

Edmund shook his head. “No.”

“Good.” She grinned and turned to plan with Caroline.

I glanced at Edmund and mouthed, “Thank you.”

He nodded with a smile and took a bite of steak.

A disappointed breath escaped my lips. It wouldn't be just the two of us after all.
Bummer.

Then a realization hit me; Edmund and I now shared a secret. Granted, this secret would probably come back to bite me on the ass when my family's skeletons came rattling out of the closet. Still, a secret only Edmund and I shared kind of made it all worth it.

“Wow, this is beautiful.” Suzy's eyes focused out the rainy window as we pulled into a long drive. We'd spent the morning on a train and were now all squished into the back of a taxi.

I leaned forward, out of my Edmund-and-Preston sandwich, to see what Suzy was talking about. I gasped. “Whoa, that's not a house; that's a castle.”

The gray stone building loomed at the end of the drive. Hundreds of windows overlooked the green lawns and intricate landscaping. Turrets topped with waving crimson flags completed the massive structure. It looked like some fantastic amalgamation of Downton Abbey and Hogwarts.

“Whose estate?” Preston asked, glancing at Edmund.

“The Duchess of Westminster.” He made an unpleasant face and shook his head. “Hopefully we won't run into her. She's one disagreeable old woman.”

“Do you know her well?” Caroline asked, from one of the fold-down seats.

“Not very. My parents do, though. When I was a child she scared me to bits,” Edmund admitted with a chuckle.

I wedged myself back between the boys, angling myself toward Edmund.
Why had Mom sent me here?
Sure it was stunning, but what was the purpose?

Preston reached across me to pat Edmund's knee. “Don't worry, we won't let her gobble you up.”

Edmund gave Preston a less than amused look. I laughed.

The cab rolled to a stop under a covered entrance. Caroline clambered out after Marissa, letting it be known how grateful she was for space. Personally, I didn't mind the tight quarters. Being squished between two attractive men was just fine with me.
Maybe I can get the same seat on the way back.

I stepped onto the gravel drive and spun around. A small sign advertised a cafe in the old carriage house. Umbrellas were available for those who chose to walk around and not take the tour.

“And that's where I'm heading, tea.” Suzy pointed to the sign and trotted off with Caroline and Marissa on her heels.

“You doing the tour, Pres?” Edmund asked.

“Why not? I'll keep you two company.”

The three of us went up a short flight of stairs and through the double doors.

“Good afternoon.” A sharply dressed woman stood behind the mahogany desk. She did a double take at Edmund and his security guards. “Your Highness, a pleasure to have you with us,” she said, coming over to us.

“Thank you.” Edmund nodded, shaking her hand.

“Will you be taking the full tour today?” She gestured to a sign in a gilt picture frame. We had three options: tour the art gallery, tour the house, or do both—the full tour.

Edmund turned to me, wordlessly asking if that's what I wanted to do. I bobbed my head.

“Yes, please.”

“Fabulous. I'll inform the docent you're here. Please, make yourselves comfortable.”

Edmund turned to Preston and me. “Shall we?”

The entry was a large rotunda with a glass-domed ceiling. This place had to cost a fortune in upkeep. Velvet-covered couches and high-backed chairs were arranged in little vignettes. A fire blazed in the hearth at the back of the room.

Preston walked toward the heat source and I followed; it was chilly in here.

“Wow, that's a Constable.” I gestured above the fireplace, my mouth hanging open.

“Sure looks like it.” Edmund leaned closer.

“It's actually a reproduction, Your Highness,” a stiff voice echoed through the room. We turned to see a short, stocky woman whose black hair was streaked with gray and tautly pulled off her face. Unsmiling, she added, “All the original artwork is in climate-controlled areas of the house.”