Home > The Aristocrat(11)

The Aristocrat(11)
Author: Penelope Ward

His eyes went wide. “Me?”

“A little. Yeah,” I admitted. “Last night…was weird.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Let’s talk about that. I wasn’t going to bring it up, but since you did…”

I shrugged. “I don’t know what to say about it. I guess I was nervous because I wasn’t expecting to see you, and then the fact that you were on a date was awkward, for some reason.”

“It was awkward for me, too,” he said.

“Running into me?”

“No. The date. I had no desire to go, but I gave in to my cousin’s prodding.”

I blinked. “You’re not seeing her again, or…?”

He shook his head. “I’m not interested in her.”

“I would imagine she’s disappointed, then.”

“I don’t know. And I don’t really care.” His eyes pierced mine.

“I lied to you the other day when I said I wasn’t interested in going out with you,” I admitted after a moment. “My rejecting you had nothing to do with a lack of interest. I just have a bad habit of avoiding things that come with risk. I don’t want to grow to like you and then have to deal with you leaving and all that. So I said no, even though I wanted to say yes.”

Leo smiled. “Thank you for your honesty. I understand completely.” He threw a rock toward the water. “And now I’m going to be honest with you and admit that my renting this boat had nothing to do with wanting clams for dinner.” He turned to me. “I don’t even know what they taste like. I just wanted an excuse to see you again.”

“Well, this was a lot of work for someone who didn’t even want clams,” I teased.

“I suppose. But without this guise, I would’ve had to admit right off the bat that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wasn’t sure you wanted to hear that.”

Rubbing my bare feet into the sand, I asked, “Who are you, Leo?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean…Sig alluded to the fact that you’re someone important. Is it just based on money, or is there something more you’re not telling me?”

For the first time since I’d met him, I noticed a look of true discomfort on Leo’s face.

“My father is a duke. The sixth Duke of Westfordshire,” he finally said. “It’s a title he inherited from his father, the fifth Duke. As the only child, I’ll inherit it from my father someday as well and become the seventh Duke of Westfordshire. Along with that title comes ownership and control of my family’s vast estate.”

Wow. Okay. “You’re a royal?”

“No. Not a royal. We’re more like landowning, rich pricks.”

“Oh my Lord…”

“Literally.”

“Jesus, you’re right.” I covered my face. “Oh my Lord, literally.”

“Lord Covington, yeah. But please never call me that.” He chuckled.

I blew a breath up into my hair. “This is definitely bigger than I imagined.”

“It’s not something I wanted to advertise the second we met. I much prefer people to see who I am beyond all that. That’s just not possible back home. And your shocked reaction only proves my point—once people know, they see me differently. Spoiled and entitled, perhaps?”

“I’m sorry my reaction made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I see you differently. I swear, I don’t.”

“I just want to forget about it for a while. That’s all. I’m not trying to hide anything. Talking about it takes away the point of this reprieve. But you have every right to ask who I am.”

Suddenly, I felt oddly bonded to him. “I can relate to wanting to forget. It’s like…when I tell people I’ve been on my own most of my life, they definitely see me differently. There are so many preconceived notions about growing up in the foster-care system. They assume I must be troubled or unstable in some way because I didn’t have a solid family foundation. Because of those weird reactions, I prefer not telling people, too. But you can’t exactly lie when people ask, you know?”

“Yep.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” I said. “You could’ve totally lied to me or downplayed it, and I would never have known the difference.”

“You can ask me anything, Felicity. I’ll always be honest.”

When our eyes locked, I felt an urge to escape. Standing up, I brushed my butt off. “Well, we should probably take our catch back.”

He got up as well. “Will you come over for dinner?”

He watched me carefully as I struggled with my answer.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head,” he said. “You’re not sure whether to say yes. It won’t technically be a date, if that makes you feel better. My arse of a cousin will be there to ruin any chance of privacy. It’s just dinner, because quite frankly, there would be no clams without you, and you should at least get to enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

When he put it that way, it was hard to say no.

“Okay. Just dinner. I can live with that.”

He lifted the heavy bucket. “Are you driving back, or shall I?”

“Well, if we want to make it for dinner before nightfall, I probably should take the wheel, Grandma.”

Leo shut his eyes. “Ouch.”

After spending the afternoon with Leo, I felt much more comfortable around him than before. He’d shown me his vulnerable side today, and that made it hard to be afraid of him. I was mainly afraid of my own feelings. But ultimately, I wanted to enjoy tonight and not analyze it. So that was the choice I made.

I stopped the vessel on my side of the bay, and Leo got out to help me return the clamming tools to the garage.

Back out by the boat, he said, “How about eight for dinner?”

“That works.”

“Shall I pick you up in the boat, or will you drive?”

“I can handle the drive over.”

He winked. “See you then, love.”

I stood and watched as he turned on the boat and made his way back across the bay to his house. As he disappeared into the distance, a little panic set in. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest. I wanted to tell it to quiet down, to not get its hopes up about a man it couldn’t have. But I knew I had little control over what caused it to beat in such a way. It would probably beat harder the more I tried to stop it.

My legs felt wobbly as I made my way back into the house, my body still used to being on the choppy boat, apparently. Or maybe this insane attraction to Leo caused the weakness in my legs.

Mrs. Angelini came downstairs when she heard me enter.

“Well, you were certainly gone long enough.”

“Yeah. We got a ton of clams. I’m going over to their house tonight for dinner.”

“Good.” She smiled. “I’m glad you’re letting go a little.”

I had no clue what to wear. Bailey and I were supposed to go shopping soon, but we hadn’t had a chance yet.

“Mrs. Angelini?”

She turned around. “Yeah?”

“I need your help. I want to look nice for this dinner tonight, but I have nothing but jeans and T-shirts in my closet. I don’t want to wear the same long skirt I did when I went over there last time. His cousin called me Mary Poppins…”

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