by Hazel Grace
I glanced up to see Lord Owen Ashton walking across the narrow street toward us, his young daughter, Emma, in tow. I inhaled a sharp breath, bracing myself for an awkward conversation. Lord Ashton didn’t know how to hold a two-sided discussion very well.
“Ladies!” he greeted. “Good morning to you both. I hope we aren’t interrupting your outing, but Emma wanted to see you, Lady Ava.”
“Morning, Lord Ashton,” Eve replied. “And to you, little Miss Emma.” Emma curtsied in her soft yellow dress, blonde curls encompassing her face.
I crouched myself to Emma’s level. “How are you today, my Lady?”
Emma smiled, opening her mouth. “I lost a tooth, Lady Ava,” she said proudly.
“You sure did.” I grinned. “How did you lose it?”
“I tripped,” she said nonchalantly.
I muffled a laugh and looked up at Lord Ashton. “You must wrap her up in something soft, so she doesn’t scuff up her pretty face, my Lord.”
Lord Ashton chuckled deeply and nodded. “Very fine advice. The little thing didn’t come with an instruction booklet, so I’m afraid I’ve been learning everything by trial and error.”
“You are doing a fine job, Lord Ashton,” Eve reassured as she evaluated Emma. “Are you attending the LaRou’s anniversary party, my Lord?” she continued sweetly as I inwardly cringed. He looked down at Emma for a moment, and I stood, pinching my traitorous friend’s arm. Her squeal brought Ashton’s attention back, moving his chin length hair from his face.
“I am,” he finally said. “Will the both of you be in attendance?”
“We are on our way to Mr. Ryan’s shop right now to pick out a gown,” Eve noted. Lord Ashton directed his attention at me again, and I gave him a tight smile.
“Then I won’t keep you ladies from your shopping,” he concluded, holding his hand out for Emma to take.
“But Pa, I want to go with Lady Ava,” Emma pleaded.
Lord Ashton looked down at his daughter. “Maybe another time. Lady Ava and Lady Evelyn have plenty to do today. We must not keep them.”
Emma pouted, and I remembered doing the same thing when I wanted to change Papa’s mind.
“I promise, another time,” I told Emma. She gave me a tiny smile and nodded.
“Have a fun time, ladies,” Lord Ashton said, his brown eyes falling on me. I watched him walk away, and when he was out of earshot, I rounded on Eve.
“You don’t need to set me up, Eve. I think I’m perfectly capable of finding myself a husband.”
“You need a little push,” she stated with no remorse.
“You practically threw us together,” I accused.
Eve shot an annoyed glance over her shoulder as she started back down the sidewalk. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Are you going to propose for him too?”
“If it will get you out of your house, then absolutely. Start living your life, Ava. You were cooped up in that blasted orphanage for four years. Flirt, be reckless. We have to have fun before our looks fade and no man glances our way.”
“I’m not getting married anytime soon,” I grumbled. “I was ‘engaged’ most of my childhood.”
Eve sent me a mischievous look. “Who said anything about getting married?”
“That seems to be your diabolical plan.”
“You misunderstand me,” Eve went on, touching my forearm. “I want you to have fun. Do you know what that is, fun? It’s when you have a good time, talk to people, and laugh. You must leave your past behind. It’s over.”
Those words repeated in my mind throughout the day. It was over. I was nineteen years old and in the prime of my life. This was a new chapter. I had a new beginning. This time, I would write my own story.
∞∞∞
Eve and I arrived back home, after hours of Eve trying on dresses. My feet hurt, and my stomach growled with hunger. Mr. Brooks opened the door for us on cue, wearing his emotionless façade. He had been in our family since before I was born, and I’d never seen him crack a smile, despite my efforts.
“Oh Brooks, would you be so kind as to ask Mrs. Reynolds to make us some lunch?” Eve asked with a sweetened tone, handing him her pink shawl.
“Stay for dinner,” I told her. “Mrs. Reynolds serves it around six.”
Eve grumbled. “I can’t wait that long.”
I rolled my eyes. “Brooks, what time is it?”
He pulled out a pocket watch, glancing down briefly at it. “Half past four, my Lady,” he replied stonily.
“I can’t wait that long,” Eve repeated.
I scowled. “You can wait,” I replied, starting up the glossy oak staircase on my way to my room. “Let’s go figure out how we’ll wear our hair.”
Eve mumbled. “You’d just let your best friend starve to death. You’re cold, Barlow.”
“There is a gentleman in Lord Barlow’s study that is here to see you, my Lady,” Brooks announced. I stopped mid-step, almost to the top of the stairs, and turned around.
“Who?” I inquired.
“I am unaware. However, your father is with him now.”
“A gentleman?” Eve replied with a smirk. I shrugged and descended the stairs.
“You couldn’t have said anything prior to me climbing the stairs, Brooks?” I teased. Brooks stood there, emotionless. “Or not.”
“Who did you invite?” Eve asked, excitement in her voice.
“I didn’t invite anyone.” I headed for the door, placing my ear against it.
“Does the other voice sound familiar to you?” Eve whispered.
“Can’t hear through this thick door,” I mumbled.
“One way to find out.”
I placed my hand on the knob and pushed the door open. Locating Papa immediately, I saw him behind his desk holding a glass of brandy, and his apprehensive eyes locked with mine. A man sat casually in front of him, slim build, sandy blond hair, and tattered clothes. He had his leg propped on one of his knees while he slouched in the chair.
“Papa,” I coaxed, walking deeper into the room. Judging by the look in Papa’s eyes, something wasn’t right, and my defenses went up. Papa’s mouth opened slightly, but he closed it when the stranger stood, towering over me. He turned to walk in my direction, and I clenched my fists. My guard was certainly up, and I blamed it all on that night at the orphanage.
The man stepped closer. He looked tired, displaying a few days’ growth of beard beneath a pointed nose. My gaze travelled up, noticing lake blue eyes and that’s when I saw it—a pale scar hovered over his left eyebrow.
I stilled. I remembered that scar. I was the one who had caused that familiar mark, over a decade ago. It was impossible. There was no way he could be here. He wouldn’t just show up, unannounced or without warning.
Yes, he would.
I forced myself to not daze off into memories. The man, who now stood only feet away from me, smiled, and my eyes narrowed.
“George?” I choked out in a low voice.
George
Chapter 2
My name was all she could muster. I’d never rendered Ava Barlow speechless in my life. And, at one point in time, she had been in my whole history. The blonde next to her stepped closer, offering silent comfort. Ava wore a familiar expression on her face: furrowed eyebrows, wrinkled nose, and a glare that could possibly shoot daggers—she was pissed. I was a ghost from her past, coming back to haunt her, and I knew I wouldn’t be walking into a happy welcoming.
Ava was all grown up, no longer the scrawny little girl who got my ass into trouble constantly. I grinned; she had sprouted into a lovely young woman. I searched for the freckles that she used to have an abundance of and found only a few scattered upon her nose. Her clenching fists halted my appraisal.
“What are you doing here?” she gritted out.
“I came to see you,” I answered.
“Did you?” she sneered, her cheeks turning pink and her nostrils flaring. I braced myself for the fury of her temper.
“Ava, darling…” Lord Barlow said behind me, his voice soft. I’d heard that tone many times before.
“Papa, would you and Eve give us just a few moments? This won’t take long, I promise,” she replied, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Now Ava,” Lord Barlow cautioned. “Remember he is a guest, an old friend.”
“Oh, I remember, Papa.”
Lord Barlow opened his mouth, but Ava’s petite friend crossed the room and took his arm, escorting him out. When the door closed, silent tension filled the air. I felt as though my breathing was blaring through the room. She stood as still as a statue, scrutinizing me under her intense gaze.
Ava slowly crossed her arms. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You know exactly why I’m here.”
“Actually, I don’t,” she replied. “Why are you here, George?”
“Why don’t we sit down, and I can—”
“I want you out,” Ava snapped.
“Calm down,” I replied, holding my hands up in silent defense. “No need to rattle your temper.”
“Apparently, I need to rattle your hearing because I said get out,” she fumed.
I blew out a heavy sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t make this easy for me. You never made things easy.”
Ava pursed her lips. “Oh, like you made it easy for you when you broke our engagement without warning. No note saying, ‘Oh, by the way, I was trying to keep you safe, Ava, dear.’ Then I don’t see you for years, George. Were you bored one day, and said to yourself, ‘Oh, I think it would be a good time to go visit my friend Ava.’ Just leave.”
“First of all, it was a fake engagement—”
“I know what it was!” Ava shouted. “I don’t need a reminder, George. Trust me, I was able to think about it every day, for four years, at an orphanage.”
“I’m aware of where you were,” I said calmly, shifting to one side. One of us needed to keep our temper in check. And I sure as hell didn’t need the reminder either.
“But here you are, seven years later, stating you came here to ‘see me’? I’ve been home for three years, George. No note, no messenger, not even a damn falcon with a letter delivering any word from you. Nothing. So, what’s so damn important that you needed to make the four-day trip to ‘see me’?”
Guilt consumed me, as it had for years. I’d cut Ava off, writing the hardest letter of my life. The separation had killed me, but at least I knew it wouldn't get her murdered. I took a step forward, but she countered with a step back.
“You are still in danger,” I informed her.
“Then have your brilliant father announce a new heir to the throne. I have no need or want for it,” she spat out.
I took a deep breath. “He won’t do that. I’ve tried, many times.”
My father was a stubborn man. His mind always on the crown, and I understood that he needed to keep the best interest of the country at heart. But enlisting Ava to such danger pissed me off.
“What’s your big plan then? Send me back to the orphanage?” she asked sarcastically.
I covered my mouth to hide a smirk; she was still a smartass. “Absolutely not,” I objected. “That didn’t work last time. Nor did it tamper down your temper.” I cringed, dropping my hand.
Shouldn’t have said that.
“No,” she agreed, pausing for a moment. “It just made things worse. So, your plan backfired.”
“A lot of our plan seemed to backfire, didn’t it?”
She didn’t answer. Not only did I have to live with the mind-numbing regret of not being able to be there for her, but I was also busy keeping my ass from being murdered. In reality, keeping her away was in her best interest. It was a sacrifice that needed to be made, and I’d deal with it somehow.
“What’s wrong, George?” Ava whispered, her posture easing.
I gestured toward the sofa. “Sit down, please.” I paused. “I want to—need to—talk to you, about everything.” She didn’t hesitate to take a seat. Sitting down beside Ava, I turned to face her, my back aching from riding for the last several days.
“Three weeks ago,” I began, “I was attacked by one of my personal guards. It was another assassination attempt.” Ava’s face drained of color, and she clasped her hands together. I noticed her body stiffen, and I clenched my fists to keep from touching her. Instead, I said, “I’m okay.”
She glanced up at me. “Why didn’t you write me and tell me?”
I paused for a moment, rubbing the back of my neck. “For a week, the doctors claimed I wouldn’t make it. I had been stabbed in the chest, close to my heart, with no hope of waking up. But since I’m a stubborn bastard, I fought through, and here I am, trying to save my best friend’s life.”
Ava covered her mouth and closed her eyes tightly. Without thinking, I clasped her forearm, bringing my hand down to hers. She squeezed firmly. “Why didn’t someone let me know?” she asked, anger lacing her tone. “I should have known.”
“A message would have indicated we were still linked.”
“But you could’ve died,” Ava growled, her voice breaking.
“Ava, please, don’t cry. I’m all right.”
Head drooping, she shook it. “How many?”
“How many what?”
She looked back up at me, tears brimming her eyes. “How many times has someone tried to take your life?”
I glanced away. “This would be the fifteenth time altogether.”
Ava ripped her hand out of mine, slammed a punch into my arm, and stood. Her jaw twitched, and she was back to clenching her fists.
“Of all the mindless things you’ve done, George, this, by far, takes first prize.” She threw her hands in the air. “How dare you just show up here, all calm, and tell me that you’ve almost been killed fifteen times. Fifteen! After all the tricks and tactics you and I used to plan as children, you couldn’t think of one way to get a message to me?”
“Calm down, Ava, I’m here now, and—”
“Femme Fatale and everything holy on these lands, George...” She pressed her fingers to her temples and paced the floor in front of me. “You have a damn army at your disposal, figure it out.”
“It’s not that easy,” I growled.
She stopped to look at me. “Why?”
“An assassin could have followed me back here,” I countered, “and killed us, taking out both of the heirs at once. I wasn’t chancing it.”
“You kept this from me, and I would’ve been the one to deal with your death, while you were home, in danger, on your own.”
“I’m not going to burden you with shit that you don’t need to be worrying about,” I barked.
Ava advanced on me. “Stop acting like you know what’s best for me,” she retorted. I rose and towered over her. She didn't flinch, even though she looked like an angry mouse.
“I do know, and you need to come back with me.”
“No.”
“Ava, this is serious. I need—”
“I can’t. I can’t go back to—”
“You won’t go back to there.”
“I don’t want to be cooped up. I want—”
“I know what you want,” I cut in. “You won’t be caged there. You can do whatever you want, and I’ll be there. We can go riding, and—”
“As lovely as that sounds,” she sneered, “my life is here now. Papa’s business is thriving. I just can’t up and leave.”
“We can find a solution to all that. You won’t be there long.” I bit my tongue, I couldn’t promise that, but her safety was more important than falsehood.
Ava huffed. “Long? These rogues...radicals...whatever you want to call them, they’ve been on our lands for almost a decade. No one has come for me, I’m not going to worry about it.”
“You won’t need to,” I objected, “when you’re dead.”
“I’d rather live my life the way I want, and die, than be held a prisoner in
that castle,” Ava shot back, glaring.
“You won’t be a prisoner. I will be there, and—”
“You said that already. What will I be able to do? Will I be able to leave the castle when I want?”
“With an escort, yes.”
“No,” she said in a firm tone.
“If you don’t start taking this seriously, you are going to be waltzing your ass back to the palace, as the new heir.”
“Then I suggest you get a better security detail on your ass, George,” she countered.
“Easier said than done,” I retorted. “We need to work on this together. Both of our lives are still at stake. I promise that I can make—”
She held up a hand. “Stop,” she muttered collectedly. She delayed for a moment before looking at me. “I do want to work with you; that was never out of the question. I want to protect you. I just don’t want to go back there with Edward and your bitch of a mother.”
I erupted into laughter. Ava raised a brow, not amused. “By all the goddesses, Ava, I’ve missed you so much,” I declared.
She rolled her eyes, a crawling grin appearing on her face, and slowly started to pace again.
“Can I think about this?” she asked. Ava was never one to make a rash decision when it came to something she really didn’t want to do. She tried to find a way out of it.
I nodded. “Of course you can,” I answered superficially.
Whoever was after my life wouldn't stop with me, and they were getting craftier. Even if I had to bring her back kicking and screaming, I wouldn't allow her to be next. Ava wouldn’t be leaving my sight.
Ava
Chapter 3
George’s surprise visit made me restless. The cognition of returning to a world of servitude under King Edward and Queen Cecilia made my stomach kink. I wanted to stay out of view, out of consciousness. Even though I was surprised they’d left me alone for this long. My inheritance of the crown must’ve still been under lock and key, kept a secret, and I didn’t want that key to be used.