She chooses a lounge and turns it to face the sun. “So. Did Dad give Jeremy any indication what he wanted to discuss with him?”
I shake my head. “All I know is that Jeremy looked like he’d been ordered to the gallows. I don’t really get it. So far I haven’t seen any of the drama I expected here … except from Jeremy.”
“Do you think he has regrets about leaving his position with the law firm?”
My heart clenches. “Not that he’s mentioned to me. Just the opposite, actually. Why? Has he said that to you?”
“No.” She sips her coffee. “He always sounds content when we talk on the phone, but he’s … I don’t know, he seems different now that he’s home.”
She’s brushing crumbs off her lap, so if the pain of hearing her refer to England as Jeremy’s home shows on my face, she doesn’t see it. I know she meant nothing by it, but it’s what I fear he’s thinking too.
“I nearly choked last night at dinner when you described Jeremy as shy,” she says.
“Your father seemed surprised too, but when I first met Jeremy—” My mouth drops open. “Do you think that was just an act?”
Laura looks past me. “Ask him.”
“Ask me what?” Jeremy says.
Think quick. “What did your father want?”
“He offered to hold our wedding here. I told him absolutely no.”
“Well … we couldn’t. I mean none of my guests could afford to come. And even Gabi … not with a newborn.”
“As I said, I declined.”
“You were with him a long time. Is that all he wanted?”
He shrugs. “It was nothing important. Do you mind if I swim laps for a while?”
“Um … no.” Without another word, he turns and heads back into the house. I look at Laura. “What was that?”
“I’d say the ‘nothing important’ he and Dad discussed necessitates a need to release tension or consider—”
“An ultimatum?”
“I was going to say consider a different offer.”
For a moment, we sit with only birdsong breaking the silence. I gaze across the lawn that seems to stretch for a mile before it ends at a stone wall. “Your parents don’t want Jeremy to marry me, do they?”
Laura sits up in her chair. “Why do you think that?”
“How did they react when they found out we were engaged?”
“Surprised, of course, and … well, I won’t deny they were upset with him for not telling them sooner. And, naturally, they were curious about you. Still are, which is why you were invited here, of course.”
“But they must be unhappy that I’m not in the same social class as … well … you all.”
Laura rolls her eyes as she picks up her cup. “We are not who you’re referring to.” She takes a sip of coffee. “To be honest, I don’t think Mum ever believed Jeremy would marry she-who-will-not-be named. That was Dad’s hope. He has some throwback gene, thinking he’s supposed to marry off his children like a king creating political alliances or something.”
“Which means he can’t be happy about Jeremy marrying me.”
“Don’t worry about him.” When her phone vibrates against the glass tabletop, she picks it up and looks at the screen. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”
I get up and go back into the kitchen. “Where’s your mother?” I ask Richard.
“Why do you want to know?” I stare him down until he gives in. “She’s in her sitting room.”
Amanda’s door stands open. The morning light bathes the room in a cheerful rosy glow. Classical music plays softly. When I knock, she turns from the window and smiles at me. “Come in, Chelsea. Is Jeremy still with Gordon?”
“No, he’s swimming laps.”
“Oh dear.”
“That’s a bad sign, huh?”
She sighs and motions for us to sit on the sofa. “It probably means they argued. Did he tell you what they talked about?”
“Not everything, but he said Gordon offered to hold our wedding here.”
“Which you’ve declined.”
“Yes, but I wanted to thank you for the offer and explain why we can’t do that. I’m sure you know that my mother and I aren’t … we don’t have … we’re not …” I can’t stop myself from glancing around the room.
She pats my hand, just like my mom does. “It wouldn’t be financially feasible to fly your entire wedding party and guests here. I completely understand and told Gordon that.”
“I didn’t want you to think I wasn’t grateful for the offer. This would be an awesome place for a wedding.”
“Well, perhaps we’ll find out with Laura. Or Richard. But I wonder if you might let us plan a sort of second wedding reception for you. In June, perhaps?”
“Do you think Jeremy will agree to that?”
Her eyes widen. Then she smiles. “I’m sure you could persuade him.”
“Us living on two continents is a problem, isn’t it?”
“Not one we can’t manage.”
For a moment, the only sounds are violins and cellos, and I wonder if I’ve been dismissed. I’m just about to stand when Amanda speaks again.
“I’ve read the Penny James books.” The sparkle in her eyes matches her smile. “I quite enjoyed them. I hope that confession doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Me? No. I’m glad you told me. But …” Amanda lifts her brows expectantly. “Well, does that mean you no longer disapprove of Jeremy wanting to be a writer?”
Her face slackens in surprise. “Disapprove?”
“Um … well, I got the impression you and Gordon had forbidden him to—”
“Forbidden.” With a hand splayed at her throat, she shakes her head. “I believe it’s been ten years since I forbade Jeremy anything. As for Gordon”—she sighs again—“those two have locked heads since Jeremy learned to speak. Unfortunately, that cast me in the role of mediator far too often. And at times Jeremy has blamed me, accused me of not trying hard enough to change his father’s mind.”
“That must be tough.”
She seems about to respond, but her phone’s ringing interrupts. “Excuse me.” She goes to her desk and checks the caller ID. “I’m sorry, Chelsea, but I’ve been waiting for this call.”
“No problem.”
Amanda answers the call, but before I leave the room, she asks the caller to wait a minute. “Chelsea,” she says, “did Jeremy tell you we had forbid him to write?”
Uh-oh. “I think … well, maybe … probably I just got the wrong impression.”
She nods, but I have a feeling she knows I lied.
I walk directly to the indoor pool. Jeremy is still swimming laps, but more leisurely than I expected. Maybe he’s cooled off. I stand on the coping at the end of the pool, waiting for him to reach me. When he surfaces to turn, he stops and lifts his swim goggles to the top of his head.
“What did you argue with your father about?”
“I told you.”
“You told me only part of it.”
He sighs. “Could we not talk about this now?”
“When will we?”
His jaw tightens. “It’s really not your concern.”
“Seriously? We’re doing that again?”
“Doing what?”
“Hiding things from each other?”
He says nothing. After a moment, he pulls down his goggles and swims away from me. I can’t believe it. I stomp to the end of the pool he’s headed for, but then I keep going. Along this whole end of the pool room are floor-to-ceiling windows and French doors, like in the kitchen, so I can see Laura still sitting outside. I exit to the patio. Terrace. Whatever.
“Where did you go?” she asks.
“I wanted to thank your mother for the wedding offer.”
“And she angered you?”
“What? No. Jeremy did that. He won’t tell me what he argued about with your father.”
“Leave it. He’ll get over it.” She closes her eyes and tilts her face
up to the sun.
“Did you know your mother’s read our books?”
“Of course.”
“Does Jeremy know?”
She opens one eye and squints at me. “Not from me. I doubt Mum told him either. Like your mum, she’d feel uncomfortable.”
“But he thinks she’s against his decision to write.”
Now she opens both eyes and looks directly at me. “I don’t see how that could be true. She’s always known his heart wasn’t in practicing law. That’s why she encouraged him toward the arts … behind Dad’s back. Of course, she hoped he’d take music more seriously, but—”
“I didn’t even know he played.”
“Yes, I guessed that when your mother commented on his piano at my place.”
“I’m starting to worry there’s a lot I don’t know about him.”
Laura leans toward me, concern creasing her forehead. “What’s important is his character, and after living together for months, I can’t imagine you don’t know that.”
“You’re right. I do know him. And I’m sure he’ll tell me what they talked about when he’s calmed down.” I start to sit down, but realize that despite the sun, I’m freezing. “I’m going inside to get a jacket.”
“When Jeremy’s finished with the pool, we’ll show you the grounds.”
“Great.”
I cross the patio. Before I step back inside, I can see that the pool is empty. I continue around the pool toward the doors into the hall, but stop when I realize I can hear Jeremy’s voice faintly. It’s coming from the changing room, I think, so I edge closer. I hear only his voice. He’s on the phone.
“… getting sucked into all this.” Pause. “And that’s why I didn’t want to bring her here, Ethan.” Pause. “Worse. It’s going much worse than I feared.” Pause. “Of course he noticed. That’s why he brought it up.” Pause. “I know. I know. Look, get your arse on the move and come rescue me.” Pause. “Right.”
Those last words were louder, meaning Jeremy’s moving toward me. I scurry through the doors to the reception hall and run up to our bedroom. I go straight to the windows, giving me a view of the patio below. Jeremy’s outside now, talking to Laura. When he glances up toward this room, I duck back and drop down into the nearby chair.
So. Jeremy didn’t want to bring me here. And what does he think is worse than he feared? Me? My behavior? And I’m so obviously out of their class that his father noticed and … what? Told him to call off the wedding? Oh, shut up, Chelsea. That makes no sense. Right. Amanda knew about the offer to have our wedding here, so obviously Gordon wasn’t telling Jeremy to end our relationship.
But there’s one thing I got straight—Jeremy wants to be rescued from being here with me.
Laura and Jeremy show me the outdoor pool and pool house, the tennis court, and the formal gardens. They share with me some of their memories at each of those places. Most of those stories are hilarious, but still I sense sadness in Jeremy. I guess it could just be that nostalgia I feel when I remember my childhood, but I don’t think so. I think he’s realizing how much he misses swimming in that pool and playing on that court, even if he could only do that on family weekends. Yet he holds my hand, doing a good job of acting like nothing’s wrong.
We pass Uncle Bert’s cottage, which is much larger than the groundskeeper’s cottage they point out at the far edge of a meadow, but not as large as I’d imagined. We walk only a bit into the woods, where Laura searches for the early spring wildflowers, and Jeremy tells me about the summer he was nine and deliberately got Richard lost here and suffered the punishment of “no pudding” for a month. (Though I’m sure he sweet-talked Mrs. Flynn into secretly giving him some.)
Finally, we arrive at the stable. As soon as we enter, a black horse whinnies, and Jeremy goes straight to it. The horse lays his head on Jeremy’s shoulder, and he wraps an arm around its neck. A horse hug. And that’s obviously Jeremy’s horse. Another thing he’s given up for me.
My mom’s laughter draws my attention. Flushed and giddy, she’s just ridden up to the stable with Uncle Bert. Her hair is windblown, making her look younger and carefree. I’m happy for her.
“Oh, that was fun,” she cries as they walk their horses inside. “I’d forgotten how much I loved riding. You have to try it, Chelsea.”
“I’m pretty sure putting me on a horse would not be a good thing, Mom.”
“You can handle it,” Jeremy says.
“But—”
“Stardust would be the best choice, eh, Rupert?” Uncle Bert says.
A white-haired man, still powerfully built, steps out of the shadows. “She would, Albert.”
Jeremy takes my hand and pulls me toward the man who’s moved to a stall holding a speckled gray horse, Stardust, I presume. “Mr. Flynn, I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Chelsea Cole.”
He pulls off his cap and bows his head. “Miss.”
“Are you related to Mrs. Flynn?” I ask him.
“Married forty-six years.”
“Oh, wow. Congratulations.”
He nods and replaces his hat.
“Rupert there is as skilled in the stable as Tilly is in the kitchen,” Uncle Bert says. Mr. Flynn waves away the compliment, just like his wife did, and enters the stall.
“Black Jack could do with some exercise,” he tells Jeremy.
So. It seems I’m going to ride a horse for the first time today. I stand idly with Laura and watch as Mr. Flynn saddles Stardust and Jeremy saddles his horse. “Aren’t you coming with us?” I ask her.
“And intrude on your romantic ride through a sun-dappled meadow?”
“Somehow I see a different scenario playing out.”
Mr. Flynn motions me over. He takes my hand and places it on the horse’s nose. “Stroke her,” he says. “Say her name. Get comfortable with her.”
“Comfortable. Right.” I do as he says, hoping she’s more at ease with me than I am with her. How badly could I get hurt falling from this horse? Surely Jeremy’s not risking my life. His bad mood seems to have lifted, but still I’m worried about what I overheard him say to Ethan.
Laura helps me adjust my riding helmet, and then, too soon, Jeremy’s boosting me up onto Stardust.
“Hold these, thumbs up,” he says, placing the reins in my hands. “Relax but keep your back straight. Don’t lean forward.” The horse shuffles, and I squeeze its sides with my knees. “No. Don’t do that. Relax.”
“I’m sitting ten-feet high on a horse, Jeremy. How relaxed do you expect me to be?”
“Ten feet,” he scoffs. He pulls my foot back in the stirrup. “Keep the ball of your foot here, heels down.”
“You’ll be fine,” my mom says.
“Stardust’s gentle enough for a child,” Uncle Bert adds.
Perfect. I feel like a five-year-old.
Jeremy leads our horses out of the stable, and then he mounts his like he’s been doing it all his life, which he has. “She’ll follow my lead,” he says as the horses start off walking around the fenced pasture. If I wasn’t so freaked, I might enjoy this. “Relax,” he says for the millionth time.
I take a deep breath, and we continue circling the pasture.
“Ethan will be here in a while,” he says. “We’re going to lunch in the village.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Do you mind?”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll have lunch with your family.”
“By we, I meant you, me, and Laura.”
“Oh. Yes, that sounds nice.” Okay. So maybe he wasn’t telling Ethan he needs to be rescued from me.
I’m startled when Stardust shakes her head, but I keep my balance. I’m just getting the hang of this when the horses speed up. “Wait. Why do we have to go so fast?”
Jeremy laughs. “This is only a trot. Move with it.”
“Move what?”
“Your hips. Feel the horse’s rhythm and rock them with it.”
Jeremy watches as I try my best. “There you go,” he
says. “Now don’t tense again.”
“Why? What are you going to do?”
He slows the horses and walks us over to the gate leading to the big meadow. When he jumps off Black Jack, I panic and almost fall off Stardust. He just laughs and shakes his head.
“I’m glad you find this funny.”
“I do. It’s hilarious that someone who can balance on a surfboard in a ten-foot wave is afraid of sitting on a horse.”
He guides the horses through the gate, closes it, and swings back up in his saddle. We start off at a trot this time. I focus on the movement, and I’m doing okay until Jeremy does something to make the horses start racing across the meadow. I’m screaming. He’s laughing.
“It’s too fast,” I yell.
“Don’t be a wimp. This is only a canter.”
We cut across the meadow and then circle it. I’ve stopped screaming because I need to breathe. During the fourth lap, I realize my girly parts are warming from all this saddle rocking. As we come back around to the edge of the woods, Jeremy slows and guides Black Jack onto the path leading into them. Stardust follows.
“Why are we going into the woods?”
“I have something to show you.”
“What?”
“Something new.”
“Is this the same trick you played on Richard?”
He laughs. “I assure you it’s not.”
Two minutes later, we’re half-naked, and he is indeed teaching me something new. Okay, so it’s definitely not me he wants to be rescued from.
When Ethan arrives, we drive to the village. I can’t help getting all googly-eyed at the sight of it. I jump out of the car as soon as it stops.
“It’s so old and beautiful. I want to walk around and see everything.”
“That’s sure to kill two minutes,” Jeremy says.
He wasn’t far wrong, though we walked only around the square and through the little park. They balked at showing me the cemetery. It’s weird how quaint everything looks, like I’ve stepped back in time. That picture is disturbed only when I notice modern details like the free Wi-Fi sign in front of the small inn. When we enter a dark little pub that looks like it’s been here for hundreds of years, I’m relieved not to see a huge LED TV tuned to some soccer match.
“Now, lads, mind yourselves,” the bartender calls out when we walk in.
Love & Liability (A High Tea & Flip-Flops Novel Book 2) Page 14