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“No. The Sherbournes didn’t torture.”
“Was the dungeon ever used?”
“As a prison cell once, after a death occurred during a house party. Two lords, having drunk too much, got into a fight, swords were drawn, and one lord was sliced through. The other lord, the one who did the slicing, was trying to escape when friends of the lord bleeding out caught up with him, and trundled him down into the dungeon until the local magistrate could be summoned.”
“Now that should be on the house tour!”
“What a blood-thirsty wench you are, Cara Roberts.” And yet his smile was warm and it lit his eyes and made her heart do a double beat.
He was just too handsome, and too interesting.
“Did you know when you were at Eton, you’d end up working for Langley Investments, or was there something else you wanted to do?” she asked, as they neared the formal gate.
He glanced up at the sky as if he’d felt a rain drop before shrugging. “I had other interests,” he said. “But I always knew what I would do. Earn money, grow our investments, and protect our heritage.”
“But did you like sports? Did you have hobbies? Did you have a passion?”
“Yes, yes, and yes.” His mouth quirked. “But don’t fret, I have few regrets. My life is as it should be.” He reached into his pocket for the car keys. “What about you? Sports, hobbies, secret passion?”
“Sports,” she said firmly. “In high school, I played girls volleyball, soccer, and then in the spring, lacrosse. I also played tennis during the summer, and golf, but that was mostly on weekends with my family. My entire family plays golf, except for my younger sister. She’s good at everything, but isn’t competitive. Whereas I…” Cara laughed instead of finishing the sentence. “I can be ruthless.”
“Ruthless?” he repeated. “That surprises me.”
“I’m not a complete pushover, Alec.”
“I never said you were.”
“But it was implied.”
He smiled faintly. “Did you and Chet golf together?”
“No. He prefers to golf with his buddies and business associates.” Cara looked at Alec, expression mocking. “Between you and me, I think he was afraid I’d make him look bad. I usually beat him. I’m pretty good.”
“And modest,” Alec answered with a smile.
“I’m good at sports because when I was little, I couldn’t read well, and to keep from being laughed at, I decided I’d be so good in PE that I’d always get picked for teams. And it worked. At recess or lunch, I was popular. Girls and boys wanted me on their team.”
They’d reached his car and Alec unlocked her door for her and held it open. She climbed inside and sighed, grateful to be out of the cold.
Alec came around and got in on the driver’s side, and immediately started the engine, and turned up the heater.
“Feels good in here,” Cara said. “It’s freezing.”
“It is,” he agreed, opening the heater vents and turning them toward her.
“I imagine you’re athletic,” Cara said. “What sports did you play?”
“The usual—hockey, football, cricket, rowing—not all at the same time, of course, and like you, I play some tennis and can ski, but haven’t in years.”
“Being so close to the Alps, I’d think you’d make time. That’s on my bucket list, you know. Ski in Europe; doesn’t matter where—Switzerland, Germany, France—but no, that’s not true. Switzerland would be my first choice because I’d love to try realSwiss fondue. They serve it in Sun Valley and other American ski resorts, but I want to know what the real thing tastes like.”
Alec said nothing for a long minute and Cara glanced at him, and he looked far away, completely removed, and she mentally kicked herself for chattering away. She really did talk too much sometimes.
“I stopped skiing after my wife died,” Alec said after a moment, breaking the silence. “It just wasn’t the same.” He looked at Cara and then away. “We’d only been married four and a half years when she died in a skiing accident, four days before Christmas. That was eight years ago, and I’ve never wanted to ski again.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said, her chest tightening as she did a quick calculation.
Four days before Christmas would be the twenty-first. Which was yesterday. And even if she was off by a day, it still meant that the anniversary of his wife’s death was this week, the week leading up to Christmas.
