AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Certainly, ma’am.Should I have tea prepared?”
“Please.”
My butler gives a curt nod and retreats.I close my sketch pad and place it on the coffee table, then stand as Jameson enters.
“Your Highness.”He bows toward me.
“Mr.Gates.”
“I apologize for disturbing you.I just…” His voice trails off, his brows drawing together as he runs a hand through his hair.He pinches his lips together, that same vulnerability from last night shining through.
Like it occasionally did during our fake courtship.It was in those rare moments I saw the real Jameson Gates.
And that was the Jameson Gates I liked.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”He steps closer.“I was worried about you.Still am.”
“I’m hanging in there.”I force a smile.
“Good.”
“Would you like to sit?”I gesture at the couch.“I have some tea on its way.”
“You didn’t have to go to the trouble,” Jameson remarks as he follows me toward the sofa, unbuttoning his suit jacket before lowering himself onto it.
“I didn’t.My staff did.I usually give them the weekends off, but after last night, my father insisted they be on hand today.”
“He doesn’t want you to be alone.That’s all.He cares about you, Esme.You can tell.He’s not the same man he was…before.”
“I know,” I say with a sigh.“I just… I wish he believed me.”
“I believe you.”
I roll my eyes.“You’re only saying that to be nice.”
“No, Esme.”His expression becomes grave.“I believe you.”He leans toward me and parts his lips, but before he can say anything, my butler returns.
“Sorry for the interruption, ma’am.”He walks across the room and sets a silver tray down on the coffee table in front of us.“Would you like me to serve you and Master Gates?”
“That’s not necessary.”I wave him off.Partly because I’m perfectly capable of pouring my own tea.Partly because I’m anxious to know what Jameson was about to confess.
My butler bows, then retreats, closing the door behind him.
I reach for the tea pot, but Jameson beats me to it, pouring some into my cup before his own.
“Still take it with honey?”He lifts the jar.
I nod.
A smile curves his mouth, and he adds the perfect amount to my tea before adding some to his own.I lift my cup and take a sip.
Once he’s had a chance to drink his own tea, I face him.“Why do you believe me?”
He sets his teacup down on its saucer and angles toward me.“This man with a scar you see in your dreams...”
“Yes?”
“The scar goes along his right jawline, correct?Then hooks up toward his upper lip?”
