The Heir and the Spare (9 page)

“Ah, of course.” Edmund smiled at her.

“Welcome to Welsington. I'm Ms. Hollingbrook, your guide for the afternoon.” With her heels click-clacking on the marble floors, we set off.

Room after room was chock full of antique furniture. My fingers itched to touch, but we'd been reminded several times not to lay a finger on anything.

Though our guide used her words sparingly and mostly for reprimands, I did glean that the duchess rarely came to the manor. Years ago, when the duke died and the duchess was left to manage everything, she'd made a permanent move to London.

Maybe she left because it was too lonely here.
As I went through the rooms I tried to picture it filled with a family, but I just couldn't. Everything was too formal and fancy.

“We are now entering the East Wing Gallery.” Ms. Hollingbrook thrust open a pair of white doors into a room with paintings lining the walls and marble statues in two neat rows down the center. “I'll give you twenty-five minutes to look around. Personal portraiture is on the left, the private collection on the right. The plaques should answer most of your questions.” Hands clasped behind her back, she set to pacing the long rectangular room.

“She's not intimidating at all,” Preston whispered in my ear.

I snickered. “Nope, not even a smidgen.”

Edmund veered to the left, studying a large painting of a formidable woman. Preston went toward the statues. I was tempted to head right, that way we'd cover the room and could compare notes later. But who am I kidding? I followed Edmund.

“Is that the duchess?” I murmured.

Leaning down, he whispered, “Yup, the old dragon herself.”

The woman in the painting had soft green eyes and silver hair piled on top of her head in a severe bun. Arms crossed in front of her, there wasn't even a hint of a smile on her lips. She looked calculating and cold. Yet there was something about her eyes that caught my attention.

We walked down the row of paintings and the years appeared to peel off their elderly subject. She was quite an attractive woman when she was young. In a few of the pictures she stood next to her husband, a handsome and distinguished looking gentleman with a kind smile. At the very end of the line was one family portrait. A little girl, with curly red hair that matched her mother's, had her arms wrapped around the neck of small cocker spaniel. Behind the girl stood the duke and duchess.

“I'd forgotten they had a daughter,” Edmund said, catching up with me. I hadn't realized I'd left him behind.

“Did something happen to her?”

“I'm not sure.” He shook his head. “I seem to recall hearing she'd been disowned.” His brow furrowed. “But I might be thinking of a different family. It's difficult to keep them all straight.”

I stood, staring up at the large portrait. The little girl looked familiar. Uneasiness settled in my stomach. What was Mom trying to tell me?
Oh, God, this doesn't feel right.

Hoping to see their names listed, I got a closer look at the plaque.
The Duke and Duchess of Westminster, at Welsington Manor with family, 1971
.

Why weren't there more family pictures?

“Excuse me, Ms. Hollingbrook?” I turned to see where she'd gotten off to.

“Yes?” Her heels cadenced her impending arrival.

“Is this the only family portrait?”

She stared me up and down before answering. “At the manor, yes. However, there are more at the London townhouse, with the duchess.”

“What about the daughter?” Edmund eyed the happy family again.

Hollingbrook cleared her throat. “I'm not at liberty to discuss private family matters.”

Preston came over and stared up with Edmund and me. “She's definitely less scary in this one than the first one.”

Beside me our guide scoffed with a huff. She glared at Preston, her lips pressed into a thin line. “How disrespectful. The duchess is a pillar of society. You should learn to hold your tongue, young man.”

Preston's mouth popped open. “Right. Okay. Sorry.” He took a step back. “Um, which way to the cafe?”

“Through that door, down the stairs, and take the first pair of doors outside. You can't miss it.” Hollingbrook's words were clipped and tightly enunciated.

I dared a glance at Edmund. He looked like he was holding back a grin. “You'll have to excuse our friend, Ms. Hollingbrook. He meant no disrespect.”

She totally didn't buy it. She glanced at her watch. “Shall we finish with the tour? I'm on a tight schedule.”

Edmund nodded and gestured for her to lead the way.

With Preston gone, Edmund stayed closer to me. No matter where we went he seemed to be touching me. A graze of his fingers on mine. His hand on the small of my back as we turned a corner. Our shoulders pressed together as we listened to Hollingbrook spout facts about the house.

“And this concludes our tour of Welsington Manor.”

“Thank you,” Edmund and I said together.

“The cafe and gift shop are just through these doors. Enjoy the rest of your day.” She trotted back up the stairs.

Edmund leaned back on his heels and stuck his thumbs through his belt loops. “So, any clue why your mum sent you here?”

I shook my head. “I don't know, but something's . . . off.”

“What do you mean?” His brows furrowed.

“It's probably silly, but I get an odd feeling being here.”

We stood by the doors. His hand rested on the handle as he waited for me to continue.

“Those paintings, there was something in that old woman's eyes, they looked familiar. Is that weird?”

Edmund shrugged. “There's obviously a reason your mum wanted you to come here. Maybe the duchess has something to do with it.” He reached out and brushed my hair over my shoulder.

I closed my eyes and shivered as his fingers softly brushed against my cheek. Such a simple touch from him and my thoughts completely derailed. With a shaky breath, I turned and headed out the door Edmund held open.

Stopping, I looked at him, my eyes squinted. “Then the little girl in the family picture . . .” I shook my head, not sure what I was saying. Maybe I just didn't want to give a voice to my suspicions.

What if the little girl in the painting was my mother?

That would explain why she sent me here. Does that mean I'm related to a duchess? I shook my head. Impossible, there had to be some other explanation. Some other reason.

I can't be related to the dragon duchess, can I?

Squeezed together with Edmund in the open doorway, his breath whispered across my face. “If you want, I'll try to help you figure this out.” He reached up and cupped my cheek. “Just say the word and I'm there.”

I managed to get out a nod. His hand was so warm and we were so close, that if I leaned ever so slightly, my lips would find his.

If I am related to the duchess, can I have him?

Jaunty music filled our little corner of the commons. The girls and I were watching
You've Got Mail
. Every time I watched it, I wanted to pack up and move to New York. My laptop supported on my legs, I glanced from one screen to the other.

“So, the party's only two weeks away. What are your costumes?” Caroline plopped on the couch across from mine, making Marissa bounce.

“Not a clue.” Suzy looked up from the rug. “What about you?”

Tuning out their conversation, I continued to multitask. Abby and I instant messaged as I struggled to finish my European Art paper. I was such a slacker, a fact Edmund had reminded me of just this morning. He'd finished his paper ages ago.
Overachiever.
My body exhausted and my brain on the verge of shutdown, I was frazzled.

My paper wasn't the only thing I'd been dragging my butt on. I still hadn't dealt with the fourth quest letter. I wasn't ready to. And it was a simple task: research the Elliot name.
Elliot, with one t.
Easy peasy. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. After Welsington, I was terrified of what I might uncover.

“Hello? Earth to Evie.” Suzy waved her hand in front of my computer screen.

“Huh? Sorry.” I smiled. “What's up?”

“Just wondering if you've figured out your costume?”

“Not yet. I was thinking maybe Rapunzel or Guinevere.” I shrugged and closed my computer. “I'll figure it out when we get to the costume shop tomorrow.”

“Oh, Rapunzel would be fun; I'd get tangled up in the hair, though.” Marissa smiled as she stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“What does Edmund want you guys to go as?” Caroline asked.

I looked at her, confused. “Um, we're not going together.”

“Really? But you spend so much time together. I thought you guys had progressed to something more.” Caroline's face scrunched.

“Hasn't Jax even backed off? I thought she was lying low because the two of you were secretly dating.” Suzy pushed up her tortoiseshell glasses. She looked fabulous in them, but she didn't agree. She rarely wore them.

“No, we're still just friends." I traced the glossy white apple on my laptop.

“Wait, you mean to tell me the two of you have been going to museums and gallivanting all over England, but you haven't been on an actual date?" Caroline sat up straighter.

“That would be what I'm telling you,” I said with a tight smile.

She scoffed. “Aside from Welsington, we haven't tagged along because we thought you two wanted to be alone.”

I looked around the deserted commons and then at the television, avoiding her eyes. I
had
wanted to be alone with him.

“What bollocks. I was sure you two were dating. Has he tried to kiss you at least?” Marissa leaned in, elbows on her knees.

I adjusted myself on the couch, feeling hot and increasingly uncomfortable. “No, well, maybe. Oh, I don't know.” I said it louder than I intended. I thought back to the doorway at Welsington and after our trip into London. Had he been thinking about kissing me either time? Or am I the only one with snogging on the brain? I took a deep breath. “I'm not sure where we stand. At times I think he might be interested, but then nothing comes of it. I know I don't meet his family's criteria. He knows it too. I doubt we'll ever be anything more than friends.”

Caroline sighed. “If he really wants you, his family wouldn't stop him.”

I cocked my head to the side and scrunched my face.
Not helping.
“You know, that doesn't make me feel better. Now I
know
he doesn't want me.”

“That's not what I meant. It's just I'm irritated for you. Bloody hell, just watching the two of you circle around each other and never hitting the mark is frustrating.”

I laughed. “I feel for you, Caroline, really I do.”

The four of us burst into giggles, just as the guys came in.

“What'd we miss?” Preston asked as he plunked down on the couch next to me.

“Nothing, Caroline's just feeling frustrated,” I answered, bending my knees to make room for him.

Grabbing my legs, Preston pulled them across his lap. It wasn't the first time he'd been overly friendly, but it still surprised me. Edmund sat on the arm of our couch and shot a glare at Preston.

“What sort of ‘frustration'?” Preston countered.

“Figuring out Halloween costumes,” Caroline answered.

“Oh? That's not nearly as interesting as I thought this conversation was going to be. So, what are you girls going as?”

“You'll just have to be surprised.” Suzy stood. “I'm off to bed. I'll see you guys in the morning.”

“Night,” we chorused.

I was surprised Suzy had gone up so early. Lately, whenever the guys were around, Suzy wasn't.
What's going on with her?

Preston's warm fingers tickled the backs of my bare knees. I squealed. Laughing, I smacked his hands away and tucked my legs underneath me, then covered them with my dress.

When Abby logged off, I decided to skip the end of the movie. “I'm gonna follow Suzy's lead and head up to finish this stupid paper.” I stuffed my books and laptop into my bag.

“I'll walk you.” Edmund stood, shooting a glare at a hugely grinning Preston.

I waved to the group as I spun and left. “Let me guess, you want to rub it in some more that your paper's finished. Gloat that you didn't wait 'til the last minute, like me?”

He chuckled. “I promise not to crow. I just wanted to see if you needed any help.” He walked at my side as we climbed the two flights of stairs to my room. “Mind if I come in for a tick?”

“Not at all. You okay?” I asked. He looked nervous. I leaned into him and caught his clean scent. It made my head reel.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I just wanted to talk to you away from the group. Is that all right?” He stopped at my door and studied me.

I beamed at him and nodded. “Come on in.”

Looking back at the door we'd just come through, I noticed his bodyguards lingering there. With my door unlocked, I did a quick survey: bed was miraculously made, desk was tidy, and thankfully no underwear or bras were hanging about.

Edmund followed me in and sat on my couch. We were actually
alone
. A nervous energy thrummed through me. I sat on my bed, too on edge to sit next to him.

“So, how's your paper coming?”

“It's getting there.” With my computer resting on my thighs, I ungracefully scooted toward my pillows. “I'll be happy when I'm done and it's turned in. Writing papers usually isn't hard for me, but this one's been a real booger.”

“Who are they?” Edmund picked up the picture on my desk that sat beside a sparkly Eiffel Tower replica.

“That's my parents when they graduated from Oxford.”

“Your mother was very beautiful.”