Chapter 11

ELEVEN

X avier was hunched over an enormous antique desk bearing two computers, a pile of papers, and several empty teacups. He looked a bit worse for wear in a rumpled button-down, sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattoo, and one hand shoved through his hair as he perused documents. Dark circles marred his lovely pale skin, and his eyes, still blue as the sky, seemed slightly overcast and dulled. I knew I was responsible for some of that fatigue, but not all of it. He was a far cry from the restaurant tycoon who had left me in London and even further from my lighthearted chef.

But everything about him spoke of ownership. This room had clearly been constructed for people his size, and he fit into it like a piece of a jigsaw puzzle. His shoulders were arched as he shuffled through a few more papers, more focused now that I’d seen him even in the kitchen.

His eyes, however, brightened considerably when they caught sight of Sofia and me entering the room. “There you are,” he pronounced.

“Dad!” Sofia wrested her hand from mine and scampered around the desk to hop in Xavier’s lap. He welcomed her with a kiss, which made her squeal. “Ah, Daddy, your face is scratchy!”

“That’s because Daddy has had a very long day and never had time to shave.”

He shoved back from his seat and, even carrying Sofia, took less than a few seconds to cross the room completely and wrap another arm around me while delivering a quick, yet deep kiss that set my lips tingling.

“We made it,” I murmured with a smile, all resentment about helicopters and failed proposals vanquished.

I was rewarded with another kiss—this one slightly more thorough than the last, though neither of them carried any remnants of the passion of last night.

“Took you long enough.” Xavier released us, setting Sofia back on the ground so he could return to his desk.

“Can I get you anything, boy?” Elsie asked, still standing in the doorway. “Shall I have the cook send up another pot of tea?”

“No, thanks, Els. I’ll be fine.”

She nodded and winked at Sofia before leaving us alone with him.

“Sure you don’t want that tea?” I asked doubtfully. “You look like you could use it.”

“I’ve just had my head in these accounts all bloody day,” Xavier replied with a grunt. “It’s a fucking mess.”

“It certainly is, you poor thing.”

At the sound of a voice I didn’t recognize, Sofia and I turned. In the corner near the far window stood a woman I hadn’t seen when I’d first walked in, considering I had eyes for only Xavier. Now, however, I definitely noticed her. As would anyone, man or woman, when faced with that kind of perfection.

Tall and blond, she looked like she had walked off a fashion spread, dressed simply and chicly in loose cream trousers and a crisp white blouse that perfectly complemented her golden hair, pink lips, and polished nails. Tasteful diamonds sparkled from her ears and around her wrist. Standing by the window, the summer sunlight shone through her hair, casting a golden halo all around her while she smiled.

She didn’t just look like money. She looked like very old money. The kind that announces itself just by existing.

“Oh,” I said, reaching out a hand. “Hello. I’m Frankie Zola.”

“Fran ces ca,” the woman corrected me. On my own name. Kindly, of course, but still a correction. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“You…have?” I glanced between her and Xavier, who was back to fumbling through papers at his desk.

“Yes, yes. Kip’s told me all about you.” She strode across the room and accepted my hand at last with a quick squeeze instead of a full handshake. “Imogene Douglas.”

“Lady Imogene Douglas,” Xavier added wryly with a wink her way. “Gibson won’t stand for informality around here, remember?”

They both tittered at some inside joke before Xavier looked back at me.

“Imogene is Lucy’s sister, Ces. Their father is the Viscount of Ortham. They own the estate next to ours.”

“Oh…” I nodded, half-wondering if I was supposed to curtsy or something else. Or was that only something you did for royalty? After the fiasco with Gibson’s tip, I didn’t want to embarrass myself any more, so I contented myself with a nod in acknowledgment.

“If you can even call it that anymore,” Imogene put in. “Papa sold the last of the paddocks last year, so we’re just down to the house, if you can even call it that. Really, it’s more of a cottage.”

I blinked. I had a feeling that what I called a cottage and what this woman called a cottage were not the same thing.

But another name was niggling at me. Lucy Douglas. Xavier’s once best friend and fiancée, the woman he had originally left me for before she passed away from cancer. This was her sister? Xavier had described Lucy as homely and weak. I couldn’t imagine anyone with that description being related to someone who was a dead ringer for Gigi Hadid.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I told her. “Your sister, I mean. Lucy.”

Was it me, or did Imogene’s lip curl slightly at the mention of Lucy? Either way, it was clear she was surprised to hear I knew who she was.

“Yes, Lucy was…a great tragedy for all of us,” she agreed. “Darling girl. We all grew up together, didn’t we, Kip?”

I frowned at the nickname. She’d used it twice now. “Kip?”

Xavier had the decency to blush. “As in kipper. Like the fish. Ah, herring, in the US. They used to make fun of me because I hated it so much.”

“But you love fish, Dad,” Sofia piped up as she climbed onto the window seat with her stuffed unicorn. “Sake, uni, hotate…”

She continued to list the Japanese names for various types of fish that Xavier had taught her at the market, more to Tyrone than the rest of us. I smiled. Xavier had taken her to the London fish market a few weeks ago, early one Sunday morning, so I could sleep in. I’d been hearing about it ever since.

Imogene just looked slightly appalled.

“Oh, isn’t she a darling?” she cooed. “Kip, she looks just like you. She really does, no matter what the papers say.” She bent down so that she was face-to-face with Sofia. “Are you your papa’s princess, sweet girl?”

Sofia just set Tyrone in her lap and frowned. “I’m not a princess.”

“No, that’s right.” Imogene nodded. “You’re the daughter of a duke. So that makes you a lady, doesn’t it? Just like me.” She stood and tapped her finger on her mouth. “Although I’m not sure that’s appropriate either, given your mummy never married him.”

I tensed and darted a glance at Xavier. He just chuckled and clicked through an account ledger on his computer screen.

“Well,” Imogene continued. “Perhaps we can make an exception, just this once. What do you think, Lady Sofia?”

Sofia’s frown flattened her features, and she shook her head hard enough to toss a feather of black hair into her face. I hid a smile. She had the exact same errant lock over her forehead that Xavier did, and it flopped forward in exactly the same way when she was annoyed.

“No?” Imogene was not deterred. “Well, give it time. I’m sure your papa would buy you some lovely new dresses if you asked him. Then you’ll really look the part.”

For a moment, Sofia looked tempted by the idea. Her eyes darted around the room again, landing on all the clearly fancy things that, even at four, she would know not to touch without asking. But stubbornly, she shook her head and clutched her doll to her chest. “No. I like pants now. No dresses.”

My eyebrows rose. That was new. Especially since there were no less than three sparkly princess costumes shoved into her overnight bag right this moment.

“Well, then, he’d better get you a pony instead.”

Lady Imogene straightened while chuckling, as if she’d made an excellent joke. She smoothed nonexistent wrinkles out of her trousers and turned.

“It really is a mess, though,” she told me as she strode over to stand next to Xavier. “When I heard about it, I came straight over—I helped Papa manage the sale of the paddocks, you know.”

I didn’t answer. My eyes were glued to the place where her hand now rested on Xavier’s broad shoulder. It was just a touch, but it annoyed me. And Xavier didn’t seem to care at all.

“I still don’t understand why Henry would have invested in a mine, of all things,” she was saying. “And slate, too. All of them have been shut down in Cumbria. The red tape alone will be a nightmare. If he really wanted to get into mining, he should have invested in the new coal mine like Papa. First one in thirty years, they’re saying. Now that will mean some real money.”

She looked at me as if for backup. I just shrugged. I hated that I had absolutely nothing to add to this conversation. Part of me wanted to be snarky and ask exactly what the sale of a few paddocks had to do with an entire estate’s finances, but I knew it was only my insecurities talking. After all, Imogene grew up here. The only thing I could offer was third grade arithmetic lessons.

To my satisfaction, Xavier patted the top of Imogene’s hand like she was Sofia offering Tyrone’s expertise on cutlery.

“Maybe if it were the beginning of the twentieth century, not the twenty-first,” he said. “It’s a dead industry either way unless we’re investing in the past, not the future. If Henry really wanted to do something useful, it should have been silica.”

“Well, maybe it’s not too late to change the deal.” Imogene hovered her hand over Xavier’s head. Then, with a glance at me, stroked it lightly before striding around me toward the door.

This time, I rather wanted to rip her hand off her body and smack her with it. But again, Xavier didn’t react.

“If you want help changing the terms, let me know,” Imogene told him.

“We have our own lawyers, thanks,” Xavier said distantly.

“Nevertheless, a second opinion is never unwarranted. I’ll call Humphrey and have him on the next flight to Kendal. Just say the word.” She glanced at me. “Did you take the four o’clock? Was the airport crowded?”

“Er, no,” I said. “We took the train this morning to Lancaster.”

“Oh, you poor dear. What a slog that is. Kip, why didn’t you book her a flight instead? I thought you took the helicopter.”

Xavier just shrugged. I tried to pretend it didn’t mean anything, but I was starting to wonder the same thing. Given our discussion, I still wasn’t sure he really wanted us here, to begin with, and this interaction wasn’t helping things.

“I’d better be off,” she said. “I promised Papa I’d be back for tea, but we’ll dine with you this evening. Speaking of horses, I promised Tommy we’d go riding tomorrow. Would you and Francine like to come?”

This time, I couldn’t stop my scowl. “It’s Francesca.”

Imogene didn’t answer.

“Er, Ces doesn’t ride,” Xavier said. Then he finally looked up from his computer at me. “Do you?”

He was so hopeful; I wanted to say yes. Unfortunately, I could not.

“No, stables aren’t particularly available in the Bronx,” I admitted. “Or Brooklyn, for that matter.”

“I’ll teach you one day, babe,” Xavier assured me, and I enjoyed the way Imogene almost winced at the endearment. “Probably not tomorrow, though.”

Imogene just laughed. “That’ll be the day. Better let me teach her. I showed this one how to get his foot in the stirrup without kicking the horse.”

With a dry cackle, she crossed the room once more to deliver a quick kiss to Xavier’s cheek. At the window, Sofia tensed, but shockingly kept quiet, though I now saw her blue eyes hadn’t missed a thing.

“Tonight, then,” Imogene said to both of us.

I just nodded politely as she left.

Xavier relaxed back into his chair and started flipping through papers again. I waited for him to say something to Sofia and me, but when he didn’t, I wondered if he thought we had left, too.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all of this,” I offered awkwardly. “Is there anything I can do to help? I’m pretty good with numbers. And organizing stuff.”

He sighed and dropped the paper he was holding. “No, not really. It’s not exactly what I wanted to be doing when I invited you two to spend the summer with me. I knew I’d have to pop up occasionally, but I was hoping to put it off until September.”

I frowned. September. Of course. Because that’s when we were going to leave.

It was the first time he’d stated that was his overt expectation, though, and though it had always been my plan, it hurt.

Sofia had left the window and started venturing around the room, exploring as quietly as a four-year-old could. This apparently consisted of her mimicking Gibson’s quick history of the property to Tyrone, only this time involving as many magical creatures as she could think of. Especially mermaids.

I took the opportunity to join Xavier on his side of the desk, comforted when he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close while he continued perusing the mess in front of him.

“It’s making me wonder how long Henry’s been this way,” he said quietly. “He sent me some odd letters this year—I thought it was just because he wanted me back. But now…” He shook his head. “Something is really wrong here in how he’s been managing things. It’s good I came. The tenants, for one, need more from the steward.”

“Tenants?” I frowned. “You actually have tenants? Like in Downton Abbey ? I didn’t think estates like that still existed.”

Xavier looked up from his desk, brow arched wryly. “It’s not really like that. Large rural estates suffered for a long time and many collapsed, although some did come out ahead. People like the Parkers?—”

“Like you,” I interrupted.

“Like them,” Xavier insisted with a scowl. “Gentry, I mean. They still own about thirty percent of all the land in the UK.” He shrugged. “The Duke of Kendal was the eighth largest landowner in England, owing mostly to lands granted over a thousand years ago. There are more than a few other peers on that list alongside the Crown. So yes, we have tenants, though they tend to be commercial farmers rather than individuals. Not to mention leases on other parts of the land for things like this. Bloody mines and what. And then there are all the other investments that sustain things.” He tossed the papers around on the desk like he was fluffing a pillow. “It’s a lot to manage. Clearly too much for one old man who has been struggling for who knows how long.”

I balked. This was on a scale that was completely baffling. “There isn’t a…team of people?” I asked. “It’s like running a corporation, isn’t it?”

“There is,” Xavier said. “We have a financial firm that manages the portfolio. But the temporary steward was apparently quite the tyrant with the others. Most of the people Henry hired over the years to oversee the other sides of the family holdings have left at this point. Now there’s no one.”

Xavier was clearly in over his head with it all. Maybe that was what was most shocking of all. My man always seemed to be perfectly in control of things. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t conquer, along with his trusted team. Except, apparently, his own family’s legacy.

“Look,” he said with a sigh as he pushed back from the desk and pulled me between his knees. I leaned back to sit on the edge of the wood. “I’m bored to tears looking at this rubbish, and I’m in charge of it all until I can find someone better to do it. But there’s no way I’ll be able to leave after the weekend. There’s too much to do. I wouldn’t blame you at all if you’d rather go back to London. It’s a lot more fun there.”

I peeked over my shoulder and found Sofia sitting on the floor, quietly paging through an old atlas she’d found. I turned back to Xavier and set my hands on his broad shoulders.

“Do you want us to go?” I asked. “Would it be easier if we weren’t here?”

A thin line formed between his dark brows. “What? How can you ask that?”

I shrugged. “This is the third time today you’ve suggested we stay in London. I can’t help feeling like maybe that’s what you really want.”

“Well, it’s absolutely fucking not.”

“Swear jar, Dad!” Sofia called.

We both smiled in her direction, then turned back to each other after Xavier had taken a bill from his wallet and tossed it into an ornate vase at the end of the desk.

“Will you be able to make at least some time for us?” I asked, hating that I even had to wonder.

Xavier’s hands came to rest just below my waist, thumbs stroking lightly over my hip bones through the leggings I’d worn to travel. I shivered, knowing full well what those thumbs were capable of. Along with all the other fingers on each hand.

“Of course,” he said solemnly. “That’s not even a question.”

I pushed that errant lock of black from his forehead, enjoying the way he nuzzled into my hand. “Then it’s not a question for us either. Where you go, we go.”

His hands slipped behind my knees and pulled me toward him, tipping his chin upward for a kiss.

I obliged. Xavier purred like a cat under my lips, tongue just barely slipping out to touch mine. But just before things got a bit more interesting, he pulled away.

“That’s that, then,” he said as he stood, reaching toward the ceiling with a back-cracking stretch. “Why don’t you two find Elsie to give you a tour of the grounds? There’s actually loads to see. Library, of course—you’ll love that. Gardens are worth a walk or two, and there’s swimming in the pond. Horses, stables, all sorts to explore. Mrs. Niles—that’s the housekeeper—gives tours to the general public at four on Fridays, so you could join them tomorrow if you want to know a bit more of the history.”

“You don’t know it?” I wondered. “I was hoping to get the tour from the duke himself.”

For that, I received a wry smirk and an arched black brow before he caught me in his arms and lifted me up so we were nose to nose.

“If I’m giving a tour, it will only be for you, Ces,” he growled. “Show you all the secret, forbidden places in this pile of stones. Spots where a girl can be taken advantage of. Believe me, you will be getting that one.”

I smiled into his lips. “I can’t wait.”