“Ah.”
“My mum helped me to start with, but then she was diagnosed with cancer and died. I knew I had to finish it.” I brushed a finger along the leaf of an aquatic plant I was fairly sure had spawned itself. “And despite my aversion to frogs, she loved them.”
Miles sat down next to me. “I really didn’t know this was here.”
“It’s my little section of heaven,” I admitted. “If I’m stressed or overwhelmed or upset, I come here. Only Aunt Cat knows it exists, but she doesn’t come here.”
“So why did you show me?”
I dragged my gaze up to meet his. “Because it’s the only place here we can talk without being disturbed. And I would like to do that… without shouting.”
“A very fair request.” His lips twitched, then whatever hint of a smile there was fell. “My position here hasn’t changed, Gabriella. I know what your future holds, and it’s not me.”
“Don’t be a bloody martyr,” I muttered. “Do you not think I have a say in my future? We’re not in the seventeenth century anymore.”
“I know. But I also don’t think you’d do anything to upset your father.”
“You think me insisting on being in a relationship with somebody I care about and who makes me happy would upset him?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps.”
“You’re talking out your arse.”
“I thought you didn’t want to shout.”
“Who’s shouting? I’m not shouting.” I held out my hands. “You know what I think?”
“No, but I gather you’re going to tell me.”
“I think you’re afraid.”
Miles’ eyebrows shot up, and he snorted in derision. “Of what? Your father?”
“No. Of yourself. Of your own feelings.” I folded my arms across my chest. “You admitted last night you have feelings for me and now you’re walking it back, using some outdated, bollocks excuse not to act on them. And it’s because you’re afraid.”
“I’m not afraid.”
“You’re acting like it,” I argued. “What other reason have you got to insist that my father would be unhappy and would marry me off like some European princess for a political alliance?”
He stared at me.
“In all of your assumptions you completely disregard my feelings.”
“I’m saying this because of them.”
“Are you? Or is that a lie you’re telling yourself so you can take the easy way out?”
He shook his head. “I’m not going to discuss this with you right now.”
“You flipping well are,” I insisted.
“No, I’m not. This isn’t going to go anywhere.” He walked towards the gate. “This isn’t a conversation.”
“Because you won’t listen.”
“No, Gabriella, you won’t listen.” He turned and looked at me. “Even taking your father out of this equation, sooner or later, this would fall apart. Maybe not in a year or even ten years, but you’ll realise that you miss this life.”
“I don’t—”
“I overheard your father telling Alexander that he wished you could inherit the estate and the dukedom,” Miles said firmly. “Because this is what you deserve. You love it and work for it and care about it, and he’s right. You deserve a place like this to love and work for. One day, you would realise that and want more.”
“Do you think I’m so shallow?” I asked gently. “To equivalate my worth with my title?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“But it is. And for what it’s worth, I’m more than aware of my father’s belief about that. He’s expressed the same sentiment to me.” I pushed a loose lock of hair behind my ear. “But that’s not how it works. My useless brother will inherit everything, and I will have to leave eventually regardless. I don’t want to leave to some huge estate somewhere that isn’t my home. Arrow Woods is my home, and I would rather a shack on the river in a place I love than a manor in a place I don’t care about at all.”
Miles stared at me, shifting his weight from one foot to another.
“Why do you think all my father’s efforts have failed? It’s not like I’m barely twenty-one. I’m almost twenty-eight. He’s been trying for twelve years to set me up with someone, but I’ve never cared about them.” I swallowed. “I’ve never… wanted… to care about anyone the way I do about you.”
He drew in a deep breath.
“And if that doesn’t matter, then fine. But I don’t want to hear another word about any of this from you. Go back to how this was before the storm when you were rude and ignored me and pushed me away.” A lump was forming in my throat. “If not, then stop hiding behind something you know isn’t true and give this a chance.”
Miles rubbed his hand down his face, then held out his arms. “Come here.”
I didn’t move.
“Come here,” he repeated, his gaze fixed on mine.
Slowly, my feet carried me towards him. When I reached him, he pulled me into the largest, warmest embrace I’d ever been in.
And I knew.
This was what it felt like to be home.
“You live in a different world than I do,” Miles whispered to the top of my head.
“I know. And I do know it,” I insisted, wrapping my arms around his waist. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to live in yours.”
He sighed, cupping the back of my head, and turned his face into my hair. His lips pressed against the side of my head, and he whispered, “I just don’t know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE – MILES
“Move.”
Mars the cat stared at me from her spot in the kitchen doorway.
“Move, cat.”
She raised her left paw and licked it, purring as she cleaned between her claws.
“Mars. Move.”
“She won’t move,” Grandpa called from the living room. “That’s her spot.”
“It’s a stupid spot,” I shouted back, stepping over her.
Which was when she decided to move.
Naturally.
I almost tripped over her as she bolted across the kitchen and into the spare room. “Mars!”
Grandpa chuckled from the living room.
I shook my head and filled the kettle to boil it. That bloody cat was going to be the death of me—her and Gabriella. Between the two of them, there was no way I was going survive the rest of the year.
I made two cups of tea and took them into the living room where Grandpa was already rummaging around in the biscuit jar.
“Where are all the custard creams?” he muttered, discarding a ginger nut on a plate.
“You ate them,” I reminded him.
“Why didn’t you bring any?”
“You didn’t ask me to.”
“I know why you forgot them.”
I couldn’t forget something I hadn’t been asked to bring, but all right. “Why’s that, Grandpa?”