He tried to keep his tone light, and enthusiastic, but how could he? With a weary sigh, he trudged to the door, hoping that Everly had made it back to the house.
She hadn’t.
In fact, Everly was somewhere deep underground between Piccadilly and Charing Cross with absolutely no idea which train to take next. She studied the map, trying to untangle the noodle-like mess of lines without drawing attention to herself. The last thing she needed was to look like a lost tourist, even though that’s exactly what she was.
She walked swiftly to what she hoped was the right line, trying not to think about how many tons of rock and concrete were above her head right now, pressing down relentlessly like her own dark thoughts. They had nothing like this in Colby, it was all wide, sensible, overground roads that didn’t make you feel like you were about to be buried alive.
Her feet ached, her head ached even worse, and Everly now knew for a fact that she was going to head back to the States. Why should she stay here, in London? Nobody really liked her, and what had started as an amazing friendship with Edward was now a complete nightmare. On top of that, somebody had taken a piece of her artwork and stolen it, presenting it as their own.
Another thought suddenly occurred to Everly, and she stopped dead in the middle of the platform to a flurry of abuse from the impatient commuters. Even the loud tuts and annoyed mutterings—so common amongst the British, who never really spoke their minds in anything other than tuts and mutterings—weren’t enough to distract her from the sudden realization.
On Friday, in the Duke’s house, her picture had fallen from the wall. It had been hers and only hers that had suffered this fate, and it definitely hadn’t been because of the hook, as Edward had thought. So why had her picture been smashed to smithereens when all the rest had stayed where they were hung? Was the same person responsible?
Was somebody deliberately trying to sabotage her?
Don’t be overdramatic, Everly, she scolded herself, joining the flow of people.
Pushing to the back, and trying to ignore the panic of being in such a big crowd, Everly waited for the next train. Hopefully it would take her back to the right part of the city, and from there she could go home—not the house, but actual home.
Another angry commuter barged past her as they pressed through the crowd, knocking her bag off her shoulder. How could there be so many people here? Everly had no idea how she was going to fit on the train. She pulled her bag nearer to her body and tried to breathe deeply to calm her nerves. More and more people were squeezing on to the platform, all heading toward the track and the arriving train. The mob was now so dense that Everly couldn’t have turned and walked in a different direction even if she tried.
A rush of hot air filled the underground platform, the train roaring like a dragon as it burst from the tunnel. The wave of people moved forward, taking Everly with them whether she liked it or not. Screaming inside her head, Everly just couldn’t understand how they were all going to fit, yet they did, and somehow she found herself inside the carriage, squashed against an old man in a bandana and a young woman who looked like she was about to hurl.
Everly tried to breathe through her mouth, the smell of stale food and other people’s recycled breath making her feel queasy. There was no let up, no release. But at least the panic of being squashed into a small ball of goo made Everly focus on something other than the hideous afternoon she’d endured. Big, warm tears rolled from her eyes, but her arms were so tightly pressed to her body she couldn’t reach up and mop them away. The rocking train shook them down her cheeks as they thundered beneath the city on a wave of noise.
Soon, the train began to slow. Everly had made a decision to leave as soon as she could, and she was more than ready to get off at the next stop. She just had to work out how to. As the train slowed to a standstill and the doors hissed open, she pushed with all her might to get out. People tutted, as always, but they moved for her and she edged closer to freedom and fresh air. She practically fell to the platform as the doors closed behind her. Clutching her bag to her chest, Everly followed the other people who’d exited the train and made her way to the escalators, riding them all the way up into the night.
She stood for a moment at the entrance to the station, gulping down the cool, fresh air like she hadn’t breathed in weeks. Her longing for Colby, for home, was so strong in her heart she almost wanted to head straight to the airport without heading to the house first.
But there were two things stopping her. The first, a small brown bear, imaginatively named Teddy, who she’d loved since she was only four years old. He was currently keeping her bed warm for her, and the thought of leaving him behind physically hurt.
The second, and the most surprising to Everly, was the idea of leaving without ever seeing Edward again. That hurt almost as much as abandoning Teddy, and she couldn’t work out why. Here was a man she’d known for only a few days, a man who lived in another continent but who belonged to a different world entirely. Everly tried to block the unwelcome emotions from her head. She had been told she wasn’t good enough for him, she had been warned away from him.
Now she was out in the open, though, and had cooled off, it was those words of warning which ignited a new feeling deep inside her belly.
A hope, of kinds.
Madame Baudelaire—Everly shuddered at the memory of the woman questioning her deepest desires—must have had a reason to ask about her feelings for Edward. A warm sensation spread all the way through Everly’s body when she remembered what the old woman had said, that Edward was in love with her.
A giggle escaped her lips and Everly noticed, not for the first time, the weird looks she was getting. Deciding that standing around the entrance to an underground station giggling to herself was probably not the best place to be, Everly started walking, heading toward the bright lights and loud traffic of a main street so that she could try to orient herself.
How could he be in love with her? They’d only just met. Everly thought back to the almost kiss and her heart skipped. They may have only just met but Everly knew she felt the same way. The way he had smiled at her, had shown interest in her. The way he made her feel as though she was the only person in the room, even though there had been hundreds. And the way he’d protected her, made her feel like he respected her. It was the best thing she had ever felt.
Everly noted the name of the road, ablaze with shops still offering their wares. She typed it into her cellphone, trying not to think about how much data it was chewing through as it told her she wasn’t too far away. Five minutes at most. She popped her cell back into her pocket and started the walk, the cool air clearing her head. Everly hoped that Edward would be there when she returned home. She could speak with him, and maybe he would be able to persuade her to stay. Maybe they could start again.
Her feet stepped up a gear, the excitement like a strong wind, pushing her back to the house.
14
“I’m not sure, she could be anywhere. Perhaps if you head to the underground we can—”
The door flew open just as Edward was giving orders to his staff. Everly walked into the house, her cheeks bright pink with the cold, her eyes blazing blue.
“Everly!” he said, feeling a rush of relief so powerful it almost bowled him over. Every part of his British royal fabric told him to be discrete, to keep his distance, but the feelings he had for the young American woman blasted through his reserve. He pocketed his phone and gathered her up in his arms, feeling the cold air creep from her whole body and send shivers through his arms.
“I was so worried about you,” he whispered into her hair.
He felt her bury her face into his chest, her breaths came quick and fast.
“I’m sorry about Valeria,” he started. “She…”
She what? She was curious? She had his best interests at heart? She didn’t want to see him hurt after last time? He knew he couldn’t go into all that now.
“She can sometimes come across a
little hard faced,” he said eventually, knowing that it did little to explain things.
Everly looked up at him, her eyes glistening with tears.
“She was incessant,” she said. “She was relentless. Like the CIA or something.”
A little laugh escaped her lips, and Edward had to stop himself leaning forward and kissing her. Everly extracted an arm and smudged away the tears.
“She told me something,” she said. The way she was looking at him sent a lightning bolt right to his heart. Her eyes were wide, and her look of longing was irresistible. “Was it true?”
“I’m sorry,” he replied in a whisper. “I don’t know what she said… was what true?”
Everly looked away, her cheeks now blazing from something other than the bitterly cold wind she’d brought in with her.
“That you…” She faltered, then looked up at him again. “That you love me?”
Edward felt his knees go weak—literally, as if somebody had filleted the bones from them. For a moment he seemed to forget how to do anything other than stand there and hold her.
“I…” he managed eventually. Then he forced himself to stop—not because he had doubts, but because he was suddenly aware that they were standing in the entrance hall of a house that Everly was sharing with four other people. It wouldn’t be good for anyone if this conversation was overheard. He needed to tell her that what she had heard was true, but they needed to go somewhere private to—
Something clicked behind him, a door shutting. Edward gently separated himself from Everly, his heart drumming as he swung around. The door to the kitchen was closed, as was the door to the living room. He walked to the living room door, opening it to see that the room was deserted. Moving on to the kitchen door, he turned the handle and pulled it open. He looked around the room, flicking on the light switch to see that there was nobody here either.
Maybe I imagined it, he thought, walking slowly through the kitchen, checking behind the counters and around the corner near the sofa.
“Are you going to check in the cupboards, just to make sure?”
He spun around. Everly stood behind him, her eyes narrow and no longer sparkling. Edward moved to take her hand but Everly drew back.
“I guess that answers my question, doesn’t it?” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “If you’re so worried about telling me how you feel then it can’t be true.”
Edward opened his mouth.
“No, don’t say anything,” she said. “I understand. I thought I had been imagining it, the feelings between us. It was far too soon to feel so… so much for a person. For either of us. I don’t know what came over me. But… I thought I had found someone who understood me, who I could speak to with no need to put up walls, with no self-consciousness. Yet here we are, scared of speaking the truth. I guess I should have trusted my first instinct.”
Her words felt like an icicle to his heart. How could he argue with such eloquence? Especially when he was equally confused about his own feelings.
“Look, Edward,” she said, gentler this time. “I was going to head home. Home home. After what happened at the Mason, I’d made up my mind to return back to the States, where I feel like I belong, where I’m wanted. I was hoping you’d somehow change my mind, but I think maybe you’ve just reinforced the very reason I need to leave.”
“No!” Edward shouted, unable to hold back the wave of emotion that her words had triggered. The sudden thought that Everly would walk out of his house and he’d never see her again was such a horrible idea that Edward couldn’t process it. Why would she want to leave just because she had been questioned about their feelings? It didn’t make any sense.
“It’s for the best,” she said. “It’s not like we can be together anyway. And it’s not just that, I don’t fit in here. I’m not good enough, and my work isn’t even appreciated anymore. I don’t want to be here because of you.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning.
Everly’s face spoke a thousand words, but none came out of her mouth.
“Everly, please,” Edward said. “I don’t know what to say, I can’t speak the way you do. We can’t, because of who we are, and what we represent to the country, to the world. Love is harder for us than for anybody else, even when we do have feelings—such powerful feelings. But what do you mean about your work? I have done nothing but sing your praises. You have an incredible talent, and that would be the case however I felt for you.”
A weight as heavy as the world landed on his shoulders. He’d been completely unprofessional, and it was costing Everly her future.
“Please,” he said. “Please don’t let me and what is going on between us stop you from fulfilling your potential here. You have a massive, massive chance at coming out on top, winning the scholarship. I would feel absolutely awful for scuppering your once in a lifetime chance at a career you so magnificently deserve.”
“But I can’t stay here,” she said. “I just can’t. And, my work… well… I guess it’s not important now.”
Edward took Everly by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. They swam with sadness.
“Your work is the most important thing, Everly. Don’t say things like that, it makes me feel like removing myself from this situation so you can continue with your work. I’ll still be here when the competition is over. You’ll still be here. Maybe we can try to ignore our feelings for each other so that you can concentrate on your work. While you’re doing that, I can concentrate on my family.”
His eyes dropped, a sudden, heavy sadness overcoming him like a tide of dark water.
“Maybe one of us will be victorious.”
“Maybe one of us will be,” she said, her breath hitching. “But maybe we won’t. I can’t stay here, in London, so far away from my family. Even if I did win the scholarship, I’m not sure I could take it. This world… It isn’t my world. It can never be.”
She ducked out of his grip and walked to the window. Edward could see her face reflected in the glass, the lights from the kitchen illuminating the window, the outside as pitch black as his heart felt right now.
“Everything would be so much easier if I just left. Nobody wants me here.”
Her words misted the glass so that he could no longer see her reflected face. He didn’t know what to do, whether to go and comfort her, or to admit defeat and walk away.
“Edward,” she said, her voice suddenly low and full of danger.
She wiped away the condensation on the glass, then held her hands up to shield the light from her view.
“There’s someone out there.”
“What?” he said, skipping around the kitchen island and standing right next to Everly.
“I saw something move, at the end of the yard. I’m sure of it.”
“Hold on.” Edward crossed kitchen and flicked the lights off. The two of them were plunged into darkness and he ran back to the window and peered out into the night sky. It wasn’t exceptionally late, but midwinter made sure it was already utterly dark.
“Where?” he asked Everly, trying hard not to breathe on the windows himself.
Everly shook her head and squinted at the garden.
“I’m not sure. There somewhere, out at the back near the fence, to the right of that big tree.”
“The sycamore?”
“I don’t know what it is,” she whispered. “Just there.”
Edward looked to where she was pointing. There was nothing out there but grass and flowers and the large sycamore near the fence.
“Maybe I imagined it?” she seemed deflated. “Sorry.”
“Let’s just make sure, shall we?” he said.
He pressed a switch near the sliding doors and the garden illuminated like the Blackpool Tower. His entire body was so tense that every movement hurt. It was like he was slowly turning to stone. There was nobody out there now, and there was no way out of the garden except through the house or out of the back gate, which was usually securely locked.
&nbs
p; Everly’s face was ghost-like. She looked as though she needed to sit down.
“Wait here,” Edward said. “I’ll do a quick run of the garden, just to make sure, it could have been an animal or a shadow but it’s best to be safe. I’ll make some tea when I’m back.”
Everly nodded, still staring out into the newly lit garden. Her eyebrows knotted.
“I could have sworn I saw someone.” she said.
Edward grabbed his keys out of his pocket and tried the lock on the inside of the sliding doors. It wouldn’t move, which meant it was already unlocked. A sensation of cold dread crept up inside him, but he kept quiet, heading out into the cold air and sliding the door shut behind him. The torch on his phone was enough to light up the dark spots not already visible, but it was clear fairly quickly that the garden was empty of people.
Still, there was something in the air that had his heckles rising. The usual noise of London was there the way it always was—sirens screamed, car horns blared—yet it seemed muted, stiller somehow, as though the night, too, was holding its breath.
Edward walked with a confidence he didn’t feel, making his way to the gate at the back of the garden. Behind this was a well-lit alleyway that led back around to the road. Acid boiled in his stomach, gurgling. And that dread was still there, making him shiver. He knew what he was going to find before he even tried the gate, and when he lifted the latch it swung open freely.
Somebody had unlocked it.
The alleyway was deserted, except for a small ginger cat who chased down the cobbles toward him, mewing softly. Edward leaned down and tickled it under the chin.
“What did you see, little pusskins? Who was out here?”
The cat’s purr was the loudest thing in the night as it butted its head against Edward’s hand.
My Dashing Billionaire: A Clean Billionaire Romance (My Billionaire A-Z Book 4) Page 8