Home > The Aristocrat(49)

The Aristocrat(49)
Author: Penelope Ward

At one point, a car began driving slowly alongside me.

Great.

“Christ, you’re a mess,” the male driver said.

Picking up my pace, I turned to him. He had a beard and wore what looked like a beret.

“That’s what happens when you’re walking in the rain.”

“Get in.”

Just what I needed—to be attacked and left for dead in the English countryside.

“I’m sorry. I don’t get into cars with strange men, particularly ones with abrasive tones.”

“Ginger, get in the car. You’re soaked.”

I stopped in my tracks. Ginger?

But it couldn’t be. It looked nothing like him.

I squinted. “Sig?”

“You’re telling me you didn’t know it was me? I assumed that’s why you were being a bitch.”

“No, of course I didn’t know it was you. Since when do you have a beard…and wear hats?”

“Since when are you walking around England in the rain looking like you’re heading to a funeral? Although, you never did have fashion sense.”

“How did you know where I was?”

“Leo called. He said you took off on foot and asked me to make sure you got back to your place safely.”

“I’d ask why he didn’t come himself, but I’m pretty sure he’s putting out a major fire at home right now.” A slightly angry laugh escaped me. “You must have been amused when you found out about all of this.”

“Get in, Ginger.”

I decided to take him up on his offer. Once inside, I fastened my seatbelt. “Thank you.”

He drove off without a word, but he finally huffed, “No, for the record, it doesn’t make me fucking happy to know you’re hurting. I might be a snarky bastard, but I’m not heartless.”

My chest tightened. “I’m sorry for implying you were. It’s been a rough day.”

He glanced over. “Dumb question perhaps, but are you okay?”

“Honestly?” I sighed. “No.”

“Understandable.”

I stared out the window for a moment before turning back toward the windshield wipers.

“Does he have a child?”

Sig shook his head. “No.”

Relief washed over me. Not that it changed anything, but I didn’t have to handle that on top of everything else.

“Did he tell you everything? How I ended up here?”

“Yeah. Pretty freak mistake, if you ask me, but anyone could have made it.”

I examined him from top to bottom. “Why do you look so different?”

His jaw tightened. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one going through a rough time.”

Hmm… “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I absolutely don’t.”

“Okay.”

After several minutes of silence, he pulled up in front of Lavinia’s.

“This is the place, right?”

“Yes.”

He put the car in park and got out.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m coming in with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been given instructions not to let you leave the country yet and to make sure you’re okay. You admitted you’re not. I assured Leo I would look after you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not alone. Lavinia, who owns this place, is with me. And why are you at Leo’s beck and call anyway?”

“I owe him quite a bit.”

Hmm…

As I walked toward the door, he followed.

“Are you really coming inside?”

He nodded.

I’d definitely entered the British version of The Twilight Zone.

Lavinia beamed when she opened the door. “This must be the lovely man you’ve told me all about!”

“No, no,” I was quick to correct. “This is Sig. He just drove me here. It’s a long story, but things didn’t work out today at all.” I shook my head. “Turns out, I misread the date on that letter. It was actually written two years ago, not two months ago. He’s married, and I pretty much made a fool of myself.”

“Oh, dear.” Her mouth dropped as she pulled me in for a hug. “I’m so, so sorry. That’s devastating.” She looked over at Sig. “Your driver is staying?”

“Sig is actually Leo’s cousin. He’s…looking after me.”

“Lovely to meet you, Lavinia.” Sig extended his hand.

She took it. “I sense a very handsome face behind that grizzly exterior. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Sig looked around. “Where’s the alcohol? Ginger’s going to need it.”

Alcohol? I couldn’t stomach anything right now, let alone that.

“I’m fine.”

He ignored me as he turned to Lavinia. “What do you have in the house?”

“Fireball and whiskey.”

Sig balked. “Disgusting. I’ll head to the store.” He turned toward the door. “Lavinia, you need to make sure she doesn’t go anywhere in my absence.”

I looked down at myself. “Do I look like I’m in any condition to leave the house again right now? It would take me at least an hour to get cleaned up and more time to arrange for a getaway car. So you’re good. I won’t run.”

After Sig left for the store, Lavinia tried to get me to tell her more about what happened, but I wasn’t ready to rehash it. Instead, I lay on her couch and closed my eyes, trying to rid myself of this pounding headache.

When Sig returned, I pulled myself off the sofa. He was carrying two paper bags. In short order, he unloaded the stuff to make margaritas on the counter, plus lots of food.

“I didn’t realize we were having a party,” I said.

“A pity party.”

“This is sort of ridiculous, you know.”

He paused. “What’s the alternative? Sitting in the corner, crying about it all? Do you want him to come here and find you in that state?”

Sig was right. Leo had said he would come see me. I wasn’t sure about the purpose of that, but it would be better if I weren’t a mess. So maybe having a couple of drinks would keep me from totally losing it.

“Can I help?” I asked.

“No. But you can help yourself. You still look like a swamp monster. Go take a shower and get out of your funeral clothes.”

I nodded and went to have a good cry under the hot shower, which left me feeling a bit better. I threw on my favorite T-shirt and jeans and felt a heck of a lot more comfortable.

When I reemerged in the kitchen, Sig looked at my T-shirt from his spot at the stove. “Oh, Hello Kitty. So nice to see you again.”

“Some things never change, Sig.” I laughed.

“Like your dreadful style.”

“Not sure you’re one to talk about style right now, Sigmund.”

“Touché, love.”

He was stirring something in a large pot.

I leaned my head over the stove. “What are you making?”

“Tears of Unrequited Love Soup.”

I slapped his arm. “Jackass.”

“You’re smiling, though.” He winked. “It’s the beginnings of chili con carne, actually.” He pointed to the other side of the counter. “There’s a margarita waiting for you in that red plastic cup.”

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