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“Because you won’t fall in love again,” she said, her heart falling, a knot in her chest, a lump in her throat.
The corner of his mouth tugged. “It’d take a miracle.”
He didn’t say anything else and she didn’t know how to respond, feeling as if anything she said would be awkward and self-serving.
She put a hand to her chest, felt the key on the necklace, felt the swirl of emotions that made her think she could use some time alone, maybe take that nap. Brightly she held up her hand, the one with the bandaged finger. “Look? No more bleeding. You saved my life.”
He smiled down on her. “Glad I could be of service.”
She stood. “I think I’m going to take that nap now, and you probably want to get back to your book.”
“I do.”
“Then you go read, and I’ll go sleep.”
She eased past him, and knowing the house better, was able to take a shortcut to the front-entry stairs. In her room, she flopped on her bed and covered her face with her pillow. If Alec wasn’t planning on falling in love again, she was in trouble, wasn’t she?
*
Alec had thoughthe’d read but the conversation with Cara had unsettled him, and he ended up taking the dogs out. They all needed to stretch their legs, and while the dogs ran here and there, he walked down the lane, as if heading toward town.
From the time he was born, he’d been taught he would one day take care of the house and land. The different outbuildingswould be in his care, too, along with the woods and the vast park. That had also been explained to him as a small boy.
He was four, and his mother hadn’t been gone very long, when he first understood that all of this, the acreage and house, could only remain in the family if he had children. Otherwise someone else would get it, because there was no one else to inherit.
He was five when his father sternly told him that Sherbournes always did their duty. It was the one thing you could count on.
Every time he came home from boarding school, he was reminded of his responsibilities, his father taking him out, showing him their land, their boundaries, explaining what it meant to sit in the House of Lords, to serve the people, to represent them, to be just and fair. He understood, and when his father was no longer able to serve in the House of Lords, Alec took that on, too.
He did everything he’d been taught to do.
And now that his father had so little time left, Alec felt the weight of it all even more keenly.
One day in the near future, he wouldn’t merely be the viscount, but the earl. The title truly meant nothing to him, but to his aunts and uncle, to the loyal staff who’d spent their lives working here, they didn’t want strangers coming in, and even if they were third or fourth cousins, they were strangers, unfamiliar with the needs of Langley Park.
It would all work out in the end. Things worked out. At least that was what Mrs. Booth used to tell him when he was a boy, dreading returning to school, wishing he could live at home with her. She was a mum and a good mum and he’d asked her once why she couldn’t be his mum, and she’d just given him a long, fierce hug.
Mrs. Booth had been there for him his entire life. He couldn’t imagine the world without her.
Abruptly, his thoughts shifted, and Cara’s smile and bright eyes came to mind. She was so positive, so optimistic, so full of life. He’d never been a fan of Christmas, and he hadn’t bought anyone presents in years, but last night when he went to bed, and realized that everyone would have something to open this morning except for Cara, he wanted her to have something, and not just anything, but something from Langley, something from him.
He’d thought of the key, thought it symbolic and fitting, and located one of the originals in the basement in what was once the butler’s room, but he wanted to put it on something and yet he lacked chains and jewelry. Years ago, there had been some trinkets left behind by his mother, and he was going through them looking for a necklace when Emma stopped by the room, heard what he was looking for, and she went to the room that had once been his grandmother’s, and before that, her mother’s. The house was full of artwork, jewelry, decorative dishes, statues, and so much more. Rather than throw it out, everything just went into a room, or up to one of the attics that stretched beneath the roofline, and so it went, at least for the last seventy-five years.
Aunt Emma was pleased to be part of the gift giving to Cara, and it made Alec happy that his family wanted Cara to feel appreciated, but there was a small part of him that wished she knew why he’d chosen the key, and what it meant to him, but he wasn’t sure he should say it, wasn’t sure if that was wise. He didn’t want to feel guilty. He didn’t want to lead her on. But he did care for her, very much.
Far more than he’d ever cared for Elizabeth.
Not that he’d say it. Not that it mattered. Not when Cara lived on the other side of the world.
*
Cara had seta timer so that she didn’t oversleep, and when she returned downstairs, the kitchen smelled heavenly. She peeked at the turkey and it was browning nicely, but there was still at least two hours to go. She looked at her phone, and it was still too early to call home. For the first time in a long time, she wished she was a reader so she could just sit and get lost in something. Instead she felt restless.
She was feeling so many feelings, and all of them centered on and around Alec. She couldn’t remember being this attracted to any man before. She’d never thought of herself as overly sentimental or romantic, but every time she was in the same room with Alec, she felt ridiculously alive, her heart beating faster, her pulse drumming, senses stirred.
She imagined that most women reacted to him this way. He was so impossibly handsome. She admired his innate athleticism and grace. He moved well, handled himself well, and he was witty, a dry somewhat acerbic wit, which she liked, very much.
That was the issue, too.
