The Royals Series

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The Royals Series Page 93

by Bay, Louise


  “They’re both getting older.”

  “I know. We all are.”

  Being with Logan had brought into focus for me how our lives were made up of chunks of time. For my grandparents, their twenties were about finding themselves and their thirties had been about family. I was coming to the end of my twenties and I was with a man who made my skin tingle when he looked at me, a man who knew how far he could push me. Someone I knew how hard I could push. Logan who made me laugh, made me feel adored.

  I loved him.

  The problem was, now more than ever, I knew what direction I wanted my future to head in. And I needed to know if Logan was going to be by my side on the journey.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Logan

  I always enjoyed spending time with Darcy, but I wasn’t looking forward to the summer ball. Part of it was because I would have to share her—she’d be busy all day with her guests, her brother, friends, nieces and nephews. And it was also because I knew how to navigate my relationship with her when it was just the two of us, not when we were surrounded by strangers.

  I pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine.

  “She didn’t want you to help her set it all up?” my grandmother asked from the passenger seat.

  “She’s got help. I would only get under her feet.”

  I got out, rounded the boot and opened the door for my grandmother. “At least they’ve got nice weather for it.”

  “Mrs. Steele.” One of the ladies I recognized from the village came over. “How wonderful to see you.”

  “Grandmother, I’m going to park the car. I’ll come and find you.”

  “Yes, yes. No fussing. Find Darcy and see if she needs anything.”

  I wasn’t sure what my grandmother thought was going on—she’d never asked, probably not wanting to put any pressure on me. But she knew Darcy and I spent time together—and she did everything to encourage it.

  I parked in the field allocated for cars and headed back up the gravel drive to the house. Looking for Darcy, I tapped on the partially open front door. “Hello?” The only response was a clatter of pans and muffled voices.

  I grinned and headed down the corridor. The nearer I got, the more people seemed to appear out of nowhere, rushing by me with plates and trays. Today must have taken more preparation than I’d assumed. As I got to the kitchen, I scanned the people darting about but couldn’t spot Darcy.

  “Mrs. MacBee, have you seen Darcy?”

  She looked up from arranging food on a silver platter and frowned. “I think she went upstairs to change her shoes.”

  “Thank you.” She always seemed to kick off footwear at the first opportunity so she was probably trying to find something more comfortable.

  I turned and headed for her bedroom, where I was sure to find her in her dressing room, in a pile of shoes.

  I hadn’t seen her all week, so catching Darcy on her own and stealing just a few minutes to hold her had the pulse in my neck beating a little faster than usual. I couldn’t wait to tell her how beautiful she looked, how perfect everything was going to be today. And then I could sink into the background and spend the afternoon with my grandmother.

  “Darcy,” I called as I knocked on her bedroom door.

  No answer. But if she were in her bathroom or dressing room, she wouldn’t hear me. I opened the door and called again. “Darcy?”

  I stepped inside and found her bedroom empty, so stalked toward the dressing room. “Have you found some shoes?” I grinned, expecting to see her sitting on the floor trying to figure out if she could get away with wearing trainers, but there was nothing but a thousand dresses piled on the back of the pink velvet love seat.

  I knocked on the bathroom door. “Darcy?” Twisting the brass handle open, I poked my head in, but that was empty, too. Where was she?

  I caught my reflection in the mirror. My tie was a little skewed. I would probably be one of the few wearing a tie today, but Darcy liked me in a suit. And who was I to deny her? I stepped into the bathroom and faced the mirror properly, adjusting my tie so it was perfectly straight, then noticed a white stick behind the tap.

  The pulse in my neck ramped up to a throb as I realized what I was looking at.

  A pregnancy test. An open pregnancy test.

  What the hell?

  Grabbing the stick, there was a clear blue line in the results window. Fuck. Did that mean it was positive? Shit. I needed to find the instructions. I glanced around the room, peered into the bin, but there was nothing.

  Shit, I had no idea if it was positive or negative. I pulled out my phone and began to Google how to read a pregnancy test.

  My pulse raced in my neck as I found thousands of sites and pictures, each one with conflicting advice.

  There was only one thing that was clear. She’d kept the test. Why would she do that if it was negative?

  I grabbed on to the side of the sink.

  I never wanted to be a father. I’d always been very clear about that. I couldn’t have anyone relying on me. Not a wife, and certainly not a child. I’d spent my life cleaning up after a man who didn’t deserve a family. I wasn’t about to start the cycle again.

  I exhaled and stumbled back, my arse landing on the side of the bath.

  My heart pounded against my rib cage like an incarcerated wolf and questions ran through my head at a mile a minute. Why hadn’t Darcy told me? How long had she known? She’d told me she was on birth control. Had she been lying? Had she been planning this?

  I loosened my tie and undid the top button of my shirt, but I still couldn’t get enough oxygen in my lungs. I slung the test back where I found it and stared at myself in the mirror.

  I needed air, space. I had to be by myself and think all this through. A cacophony of thoughts competed in my head and I wanted to pull each one out, examine and make sense of it. The last place I wanted to be was at a summer garden party where I was expected to be all charm and smiles.

  One thing was for sure—I didn’t want to be a father.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Darcy

  I watched for a few minutes to see if Logan would spot me. I’d been running from one set of people to another all afternoon, and every time I decided to seek Logan out, pull him behind the stables for a kiss, someone else decided they needed to tell me what a wonderful party it was and how they were sorry my grandfather wasn’t here to see it.

  “Excuse me, will you?” I said to Freida, who I’d been talking to about the caterers. “I’ve just spotted someone I must go and thank before the crowd swallows them up and they think I’m untenably rude.”

  “Of course, my dear.” She patted my hand and headed back toward the other ladies of the Woolton W.I.

  I tried to bite back a grin as I headed toward Logan. I rarely had the chance to see him like this from a distance, so handsome in his light-gray suit—even if he wasn’t wearing a tie—so tall and commanding.

  “Darcy.” A tipsy Mrs. Lonsdale grabbed my hand. “What a wonderful party. I’m so pleased the weather held for you.”

  I smiled but didn’t stop. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Lonsdale. I’ll catch up with you later. I must check something.”

  She waved me off. “Yes, yes. A hostess’s job is never done.”

  I kept my gaze fixed on Logan, determined to avoid anyone else’s eye. As if he sensed me, he looked up. I couldn’t hold back my grin any longer, but he didn’t smile in return.

  If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought apprehension crossed his face.

  Or perhaps he was reacting to something his grandmother had just said. Or maybe something had happened at work this week. We’d spoken less than usual because I’d been so wrapped up in the party preparations.

  “Hello.” I bent to kiss Mrs. Steele on both cheeks and Logan rose from his seat and greeted me stiffly in the same way. His hands didn’t linger over me like they normally did, his eyes didn’t lock with mine in the way I was used to.

  �
��I hope you’re enjoying the match.” I glanced at Ryder, Scarlett, Violet and Alexander on the croquet field.

  “Take a seat and I’ll go and fetch some drinks,” Logan said, glancing over at the nearest drinks station as if he couldn’t wait to escape.

  “I’ll come with you to help,” I offered.

  “No, stay and enjoy yourself. I’m sure you’ve been running around all day.” Why wouldn’t he want a few minutes with me, even if it was while we got drinks?

  Confused, I took a seat and watched as Logan started in the direction of the Pimm’s.

  “How are you my dear?” Mrs. Steele asked. “Are you managing to enjoy your day at all?”

  Still staring at Logan’s suit covered back, I replied, “Yes, of course, but would you excuse me one second? I want to ask Logan to get me a soft drink. I’ve got such a lot still to do today.”

  I jumped up and weaved my way through the clusters of people until I reached him. “Hey,” I said, grasping his arm.

  “Hi,” he replied as he came to a standstill. “I was just getting some drinks.”

  “Are you okay?”

  He frowned at me. “Yes. Shouldn’t I be?”

  I scanned his face for clues, trying to figure out if I was just making up things in my head. “You seem a little…” I shrugged. “I don’t know. A little off.”

  “I’m just getting drinks, Darcy.”

  “Okay. Well, can you stay tonight?” I pushed him. We’d made no plans for him to stay, and for whatever reason, he’d never stayed when Ryder and Scarlett were over.

  “You enjoy your time with Ryder and Scarlett. I’ll see you when they leave.” He was colder than I’d ever known him. Even for a public setting, he was distant.

  “Logan?” I asked, needing some kind of reassurance from him.

  “What do you want to drink? Pimm’s?”

  “I don’t want anything to drink. I want you to drag me around the back of the stables and kiss me into next week. I want you to look at me like you normally do. I don’t understand what’s up with you.”

  He forced a smile which did the opposite of reassure me. “We’ll talk when the weekend is over,” he said. “Ryder and Scarlett leave Monday morning, right?”

  “If you’ve got something to say, I want to hear it.”

  He glanced over my head. “I don’t have anything to say specifically—it’s just a busy weekend, and you have houseguests.” He would normally place his hand at the small of my back, but he didn’t. He just started to walk. “Now, let’s get you a drink.”

  “I just want lemonade or something,” I mumbled under my breath.

  “You’re not drinking?” he asked.

  “I have too much to do.”

  “Right,” he said, and we joined the queue.

  Once, not so long ago, Logan Steele had told me he never lied, but now I knew that wasn’t true. This wasn’t just a busy weekend. It wasn’t that I had houseguests. He had something to say, but he was going to make me wait.

  My head said that he could be stressed at work or worried about a million things but in my heart, I knew it was about me. It was about us. Maybe he was bored, or he’d gotten what he wanted from me and now was moving on. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good news.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Darcy

  Just like before anyone can hear the rumble of thunder or see the rain, it’s possible to tell a storm is coming, I knew that the next time I saw Logan, he would be bringing bad news. As I stood in the doorway, waving Scarlett, Ryder and the children off, I remembered the last time I’d been here. In the rain. Logan had arrived with marshmallows. But this evening was hot and humid. There was no need for fires. No reason for marshmallows.

  I closed the door, took a mug of steaming-hot tea and sat in the library, waiting for him. Usually, I’d hear his helicopter over Woolton as he made his way into London on a Monday morning, but I hadn’t heard it today and didn’t expect to.

  He’d said we’d speak when Scarlett and Ryder had left and I knew he’d turn up.

  Normally, if I had been expecting Logan, I would have told Lane that I’d answer the door, but not today. If I was going to be disappointed, I wanted it to happen in here, where I felt safe and protected from the world. Bad news was threatening on the horizon and the library was my shelter.

  I closed my eyes as I heard the expected knock, then the mumble of voices.

  I took a deep breath when Logan came straight in.

  “Hi,” he said. “Is now a good time?”

  I shrugged as I sat back in the green leather chair, clutching my tea. He closed the door behind him and slid his hands into his pockets as I watched him out of the corner of my eye. I didn’t want to talk about the weather or his weekend or Ryder and Scarlett. Whatever was coming, I wanted it over with.

  He pulled the chair nearest mine slightly closer and perched on the edge of the seat. Seconds ticked by, but I didn’t say anything, didn’t try to make either of us more comfortable by talking about something and nothing. I didn’t want to make this easy for him. I wouldn’t ask him what was wrong or give him any kind of in.

  “Do you have something to tell me?” he asked.

  My heart lifted in my chest and I met his eyes for the first time. Had I read him wrong? If he was here to ask me something, then perhaps he wasn’t about to deliver bad news. “No. Nothing in particular.”

  “Darcy,” he said, as if he knew I was hiding something.

  I searched his face, trying to figure out what I was missing. “What? You seem to have something to say to me.”

  “I found the test,” he said.

  I could pretend I didn’t know what he was talking about but the image of Aurora and me peering at the white stick flashed into my head. How had he seen the test? Had he been snooping? “Oh, right. I was going to tell you, I just—”

  “I’ll support you in whatever decision you make. Financially. But I can’t be a father. It’s not who I am.”

  I tried to make sense of what he was saying. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. The test was negative.”

  He pulled back as if someone had punched him. “But I saw the test.”

  “I don’t know which test you saw, but the one I took—the two, in fact—they were both negative.”

  He blew out a breath and pushed his hands through his hair. “I see.”

  I scooted forward on my chair and placed my cup next to me on the side table. “Is that why you were so weird with me at the party? You thought I was pregnant?” This was all some terrible misunderstanding. Now that he knew, this weirdness between us could disappear and we could get back to normal.

  “You should have told me you were concerned. That you thought you might be,” he said.

  “I was just triple-checking. We’re always careful, and it’s not unusual for me to be late if I’m stressed. It was no big deal. I would have told you eventually.”

  He’d been really worried about this. For no reason. He should have just said something and I could have put his mind to rest days ago. I leaned over and placed my hand on his leg. “I’m sorry you got a scare.”

  Abruptly he stood, moving away from my hand. “Darcy, I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Do what? I’m not pregnant. Nothing’s changed.”

  He reached around his head and scratched his neck. “Everything’s changed. I’m sorry. I’m not the right man for you. You deserve someone who wants to get married and have children, and I can’t give you those things.”

  Even though I’d been prepared for something, I hadn’t been expecting this—or maybe I had, but I hadn’t thought it would feel this heavy, this hurtful.

  I took a few steadying breaths. We just had to be logical. Practical. I would talk him around. “And when did you decide this?”

  “You’ve always known that’s not me. We both got into this knowing it was temporary. I let it go on too long.”

  Each word was like a blade slicing through my skin. “And n
ow temporary is over? Just like that?”

  “It had to end sometime.”

  “Says who?” Could it really be that easy for him? “So, you don’t feel anything?”

  “It’s not that I don’t care about you, but we want different things. It’s senseless to carry on when—”

  “When we’re so happy? Because I know you are. And I know I am. So why give that up?”

  He closed his eyes as if trying to block out the truth of my words. “We want different things. We deserve different things.”

  I’d never felt so connected to someone, so completely in tune with a man. I wanted him. I wanted everything with him. “I don’t think that’s true. How can we want different things if we’re so happy when we’re together?”

  “I can’t give you what you need.” He wasn’t answering my questions. As if he didn’t want to reveal any chink in his armor. The more I pushed, the more he retreated, and I could feel the growing distance between us as if he were in a jet, taking off, and he’d left me on the ground, watching him go. I was helpless, powerless.

  Panic ran through my veins. I wanted him to come back to me, change his mind. Remember what we were to each other just a few days ago. “I want to spend every night with you, want to tell you everything that’s going on in my head. I love you.”

  He closed his eyes. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t? Don’t be truthful? We might have started off temporary, but that’s not what it feels like to me.” We’d spent so much time together, been so happy. Had it all been a lie?

  “I let things extend…I…” I wanted him to finish his thought, tell me that he’d let things go on because he’d enjoyed our time together, loved me. But he didn’t. “And better now than…”

  “Than when?” But I knew the answer. When next time, the test wasn’t negative.

  He sighed and bowed his head. “This has clarified things for me. I’ve never wanted to be a father and that’s not going to change. You deserve someone who wants the same things you do. Someone who…”

 

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