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“Stay,” Alec said, rising again. “We were just discussing the house tour tonight, and how, as you are staying here at the house, you were going to assist me in passing around the champagne glasses and making sure no guests disappeared during the tour.”
“Absolutely delighted to help,” Cara said firmly, giving him one of her dazzling smiles.
Like Miss Fletcher, she was still wearing her winter coat, and like Miss Fletcher, Cara had pink cheeks and a pink nose but her rosy complexion made her radiant, unlike Miss Fletcher who appeared to be fighting a cold.
He shouldn’t even think such unkind thoughts but Miranda Fletcher brought out the worst in him. He didn’t need managing. He didn’t need a hostess. And he definitely didn’t need someone to fill his late wife’s shoes. Madeleine had been the last mistress of Langley and he wasn’t in a hurry to replace her, despite what his aunts and uncle said.
Cara’s warm gaze met his before turning to focus on Miss Fletcher. “Mrs. Johnson has written directions on the pouring of the champagne—”
“Did she tell you how many glasses were needed?” Miranda interrupted.
“Sixty. Fifty-eight for the ticketed guests, and then a glass for Lord Sherbourne and one for the tour guide.” Cara hesitated. “Were you hoping to join us tonight? If so, Miss Fletcher, I can wash another flute.”
For a moment, there was just a weighty silence and Alec felt all eyes on him. He sensed Miss Fletcher was waiting for him to invite her, but he had no intention of doing that. Miss Fletcher was a nice woman but not the woman for him, and he wasn’t going to encourage her because then she might pop up in London and hope for more tea there.
“I don’t think Miss Fletcher will be joining us for the evening tour, or the fizz, but I’m glad we had a chance to discuss the event and cover last-minute details. Unless something has changed, I imagine Richard Morrison is leading tonight’s tour.” Alec glanced at Cara. “Mr. Morrison is a retired clergyman and a very old friend of my father’s. They grew up together and Mr. Morrison once spent a great deal of time here. Mr. Morrison also happens to be a remarkable lover of history and knows this house’s history almost better than I do myself.”
“I look forward to meeting him,” Cara said.
“There are many who give an excellent tour of Langley Park,” Miranda said stiffly, rising, “but, yes, Mr. Morrison also does a nice job.”
“I’m glad you approve,” Alec said with a small bow. “I shall see you out.” He glanced at Cara. “Don’t forget, we leave for Winnats Pass soon.”
*
The rest ofthe morning passed quickly. Alec was an outstanding driver and he was comfortable at the wheel of the Land Rover he’d chosen for the drive to Winnats Pass. It seemed he had an entire fleet of cars at Langley for his disposal and she wondered idly what it would be like to have such wealth that you could drive a different car every day of the week, and then chastised herself for thinking such thoughts because, honestly, she didn’t care that much about money, and wealth in and of itself boredher. She’d never been particularly materialistic and, yes, money paid bills, but it didn’t buy happiness, and it certainly hadn’t made Chet a more devoted or loving partner. If anything, his success just made him think he was better than others. That he was more deserving, somehow.
She frowned as she gazed out the window, hating that she was wasting a single moment of her trip on thoughts of Chet.
The more time passed, the more indignant she became that she’d put up with him as long as she had. What had made her think he was ever right for her? The only thing they’d truly had in common was their mutual love of sports. They skied, they played golf and tennis. In good weather, they’d hike and when able, kayak in the Puget Sound. But they didn’t talk, or at least, she didn’t talk. He never asked her what she was thinking or feeling. He didn’t ask what she wanted. In hindsight, all conversations essentially were about him and what he wanted.
In hindsight, she’d thought one day he’d want to know her. Want to know more about her. Want morewithher.
That was the relationship, the marriage, her parents had. Partners and friends. And yes, okay, lovers but she didn’t want to think too much on that. But it was what she wanted. Someone to be her friend. Someone to talk with and laugh with, and on the hard days, someone who’d let her cry and then remind her that everything was going to be okay.
Because that was what she wanted to do, too. It was what she wanted to give. If she ever married, he’d be her favorite person in the whole world.
He’d be her person, period.
“You don’t like the music?” Alec asked, turning down the stereo.
She forced herself to take a breath and relax. “The music is fine.”
“You look frustrated.”
“Just thinking.” She managed a small smile even though she was feeling surprisingly raw on the inside. “Just thinking about Chet and how ridiculous it is that I came here to get away from home, and yet seeing him in town the other day has made me remember things I didn’t want to remember. It’s made me angry that I put up with his nonsense as long as I did. It was not an equal relationship and everything was always about him and why did I think that was okay? Why didn’t I realize that he took up so much space in the room that there was nothing left for me?”
“Maybe it was comfortable in the beginning. Sometimes it’s helpful to lose ourselves. Sometimes we need to forget. Hide.”
She shot him a swift glance. His profile was gorgeous as always but there was an emotion in his eyes that made her look, and then look some more. He had secrets and a life she knew nothing about.
“Have you had a relationship like that?” she asked carefully.
“Yes,” he said simply.
The bleakness in his voice made her swallow hard. She could feel whatever he was feeling and it was deep and quiet and sad. Terribly sad. Impulsively, she reached across and put a hand on his sleeve and then she removed it, because what was she doing? She was a guest in Alec’s house, but they weren’t friends, and she couldn’t be that overly familiar American.
He looked at her, his eyes briefly locking with hers, before he focused on the road. “There’s no reason we can’t be friends.”
