“You don’t enjoy teaching?” Theo asked, running his fingers up and down her leg. She’d mentioned her breakup but didn’t seem as bitter about it as before. If anything, she was more … resigned.
“Not as much as I thought I would.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s not terrible, and the classes I’ve taught this summer have been really cool, but overall … yeah. No.” Bonnie laughed and looked up at him. “Did that make any sense at all?”
Theo nodded. “Sure,” he said, stroking the back of her knee. “You need to figure out what you need.”
“I do, huh?” she asked, blue eyes flashing. “I think I know what I need right now,” she purred, sliding the foot he wasn’t holding back and forth. He bit his lip, his cock getting harder with each brush of her leg.
“I can’t wait to hear more.” His fingers crept up her thigh. “Why don’t we go upstairs, and you can tell me.”
“I thought you couldn’t wait,” she teased.
“Well, let’s see how fast you can get ready for bed,” he teased back.
“Like a race?” she asked.
“If you want it to be.”
“Okay.” She sat up, sliding her feet to the floor. “On your mark, get set, go!” She was off like a shot, racing out of the room before the last word was out of her mouth.
Theo stood, thundering up the stairs behind her. He didn’t mind if she beat him. The way he saw it, anything that got her in bed faster was a win.
CHAPTER 24
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Bonnie got out of bed early. Admittedly, she’d had some help from Theo, who’d woken her by pressing kisses all over her face and neck, coarse stubble tickling her cheeks before he abandoned her for the shower.
Bonnie tightened the little ribbon on the bodice of her nightgown and made her way down the stairs toward the kitchen. She loved the creek of the wooden floorboards beneath her, and imagined Theo as a child, racing across these floors, eager to get down to the creek to catch fish. She stood for a moment, still picturing that little boy as she stared out the window above the large farmhouse sink. Sunlight sparkled on the dewy grass, turning the meadow into a cache of diamonds.
What would it be like to live here? Wake up every day to this view, raise a family here? She could picture it almost too easily. An ache burned in the back of her throat. With effort, Bonnie swallowed. She needed to stop having those kinds of thoughts. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about the future. Besides, Theo had said his family was planning to rent this place out. Her heart twisted as she recalled his reluctance for the idea stamped plainly on his face.
Bonnie filled the kettle with fresh water and set it to boil. While it heated, she fussed about, setting out plates and teacups. She rummaged in the butler’s pantry and was rewarded with a lovely tiered tray that would do perfectly. She set it on the table and pulled out some of the treats they’d brought back from yesterday’s excursion.
As she arranged the gingerbread on the tray she began to hum, anticipating Theo’s smile when he came downstairs and discovered breakfast was ready. The kettle whistled, interrupting her thoughts, and she filled a teapot with hot water, added the leaves, and set it on the table as well. She stood back, admiring her work.
“My word, this is all very domestic.”
Bonnie turned, catching Theo’s gaze as he entered the kitchen. His dark hair was slicked back, face freshly shaven. “Morning.” She gestured at the table. “I hope you don’t mind. I thought I’d—”
“It’s perfect,” he said, crossing the room and pulling her into his arms. “I can’t imagine a better way to start the day.”
She nuzzled into him, enjoying his clean, fresh scent.
“Well,” he mused, voice rumbling in his chest, “there might be something better.” His hands reached around, squeezing her bottom.
“Hey.” She swatted at him. “Those buns aren’t for breakfast.”
“Oh no?” He dropped to his knees, nipping at her with his teeth.
“Theo!” She laughed, trying to wiggle out of his grip, but he held her tight, nibbling on her butt through the thin fabric of her nightgown.
The sound of a throat clearing, loudly, made Bonnie freeze. She glanced up to find the housekeeper hovering in the doorway. It was clear from the bright red hue of her apple cheeks she’d been there for some time. “Morning, Mrs. Lindsey,” she managed, sure her cheeks were equally on fire.
From somewhere behind Bonnie came a muffled, “How are you today?”
“Fine, Your Grace, just fine.” The housekeeper studied her toes. “I see you have breakfast handled.”
“Ah, yes. Thank you.” Theo got to his feet and helped himself to a square of gingerbread. He took a casual bite, as if nothing were amiss. As if he hadn’t just been sinking his teeth into Bonnie’s ass.
Bonnie busied herself with pouring the tea.
Mrs. Lindsey didn’t move, but remained in the doorway, hands twisting in her apron. “Begging Your Grace’s pardon, but her ladyship called. She’d like a word with you.”
“My mother rang you at the cottage?” Theo frowned, brushing crumbs from his fingers. “Why didn’t she try me on my bloody mobile?”
“She did, sir. Um, several times, I believe.” The woman spared him a pitying glance. “She’s in a right mood, sir. You best be returning her call.”
“Right.” Theo sighed. “Thank you.”
Mrs. Lindsey nodded, offered Bonnie a shy smile, and then hurried out the way she’d come in.
“Is something wrong?” Bonnie asked.
“Don’t know.” Theo retrieved his phone from the sitting room, where he’d left it charging last night. He scrolled through his phone messages, brow furrowing. Three missed calls from his mother.
While he listened to his voice mail, Bonnie began packing up the breakfast things. The playful mood that had filled the kitchen with laughter only a few minutes ago evaporated.
Sure enough, after a moment he pocketed his phone, offering her an apologetic half smile. “I’m sorry, love, but we need to head back.”
“Right now?” Bonnie couldn’t help asking. “Are you sure?” She wasn’t ready to go back to the real world. She wanted a few more hours here, alone, with him.
He nodded, but she could see how much he wanted to stay too. “I’m sure,” he said, jaw tight, mouth a thin, grim line. “My presence has been commanded.”
* * *
Theo stormed into the conservatory of the Abbey, where his mother sat enjoying the late afternoon sun. “All right, what’s so bloody important?” he demanded.
His mother did not look up from her pile of “knitting.” He couldn’t believe, all these years later, she still indulged in this farce. Nobody cared if she wanted to read the gossip rags. Didn’t she know that? She continued to ignore him, and he realized she was waiting for him to greet her properly. No matter if her meddling was going to ruin his life, the niceties must be observed.
Reining in his temper, he stepped to her side and bowed, taking her hand. “Good afternoon, Mama.”
“Good afternoon, son. Did you have a pleasant trip?”
“No, I did not. It came to a rather abrupt end, but I believe you know that already,” he seethed. Patience. “What was so important that my immediate presence was demanded? What’s wrong?”
“I do apologize for the inconvenience to you, I’m sure you were quite busy up at the cottage.” His mother set her knitting aside, taking care to make sure the magazine they both knew was beneath the pile of yarn was well-covered. “I had an enlightening chat with Mrs. Lindsey on the telephone this morning.”
Ah. Theo narrowed his eyes, the pieces coming together. His mother knew about Bonnie, then. Poor Mrs. Lindsey, she probably hadn’t the slightest chance once his mother sunk her claws into her. And it’s not like Theo had asked the housekeeper to keep the information about his overnight guest private.
“Really, Theo, what were you thinking, taking some girl, some American, to our summer home?”
I was thinking I wanted to spend time with someone who made me happy. To share a piece of myself that meant something, to show her a place that was important to me. But none of that mattered to his mother because you couldn’t put a price on it.
“What I was thinking is not your concern.” Theo wasn’t going to let her guilt trip him with her absurd notions of propriety. She could give him a scowl worthy of winning the Snooty Dame of the Year award, but he was not budging. “Besides, what does it matter? You were ready to let the cottage to perfect strangers.”
“About that, what’s your opinion? Do you wish to move forward with the plan?” His mother raised an eyebrow, her tone belying her usual subtlety, “Or, now that you’ve apparently had some time to sow a few wild oats, are you ready to consider other options?”
Her look made Theo feel like he was the one on the market, not the cottage. Heat crept up his cheeks.
“But I didn’t ask you to come home simply to call you to the carpet.” She waved him toward her, and he helped her rise from her chair. “I have some important news to share with you. And I wanted to speak with you alone. Your sisters are out for the day. Come, take a turn in the garden with me.”
Gritting his teeth, Theo took his mother’s hand, and she leaned on him, her balance a bit unsteady. Theo held her arm, escorting her outside in silence. He didn’t bother trying to engage in conversation again, knowing she wouldn’t speak to him until they were well away from the house and out of earshot of the “tongue-wagging help.”
Sure enough, it wasn’t until they had passed under the arch of wisteria and retreated into the walled garden that his mother said, “You seem agitated, my boy. What’s on your mind?”
“I’m trying to recall the maximum prison sentence for matricide,” Theo muttered.
His mother made a scoffing noise of dry amusement in the back of her throat. “Have no fear, you won’t need to concern yourself with the penalty for that crime.” She stopped, settling herself carefully on a stone bench. “That’s my news, you see. I won’t be around to pester you much longer.”
Theo’s jaw fell open. He’d been joking. His mother, however, didn’t jest. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Oh, quite,” she agreed. “Six months, according to the oncologist. A year, perhaps.”
The stone-cold calm of her voice chilled the marrow in Theo’s bones. He joined her on the bench. “Oncologist? What are you saying, Mama?” He stared at his mother. She’d seemed different lately, not herself, but he’d never thought …
“Cancer. Neuroendocrine tumor of the lungs. Which I’m told is quite rare. Always nice to hear one is special.”
“Mama,” Theo began, but stopped, at a complete loss. Floored by his mother’s revelation. “How long have you known?”
“For some time.”
Some time. Christ, that could be weeks, months, bloody years, even. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
His mother coughed and suddenly Theo found himself listening closer. Should he have recognized symptoms? Were there signs he should have been aware of? A cold fist gripped his heart, squeezing, blood pumping icy rivers of fear and recrimination through his veins. Theo couldn’t help asking. “Why tell me now?”
“Wipe that look off your face. I’m not dying today,” his mother snapped, coughing again. “I had been waiting on a second opinion, can’t trust those people to get it right. But it seems both specialists are in agreement. The diagnosis remains unchanged.”
Theo schooled his features; he knew how much his mother detested pity.
“I’ve told you first,” she continued. “I’ll speak with your sisters when I’m ready, once I have a better idea what the treatment plan shall be.”
“You can’t expect me to keep this from them.”
“I can, and I will.” His mother eyed him, chin set, mouth pinched, Snooty Dame Monthly frown in place. “I want your word on this, Theodore.”
His heart seized with a sudden swell of affection for his mother. She was so stiff, so stubborn, even now. Cancer didn’t stand a bloody chance against her. “Of course, Mama.”
“I want you to promise me something else.”
Theo steeled himself. He sensed, deep in his gut, what was coming.
“When your father was born, outside of the royal family, twenty-eight peers of the realm held the title of duke. Now there are only twenty-four. You know how many centuries-old titles are on the verge of collapsing without an heir to perpetuate the line, let alone how many noble families can’t afford to maintain their birthright.”
“If the last few Embertons hadn’t been such pathetic excuses for the role of head of household, we wouldn’t be in this mess,” he muttered.
“I quite agree with you,” his mother said. “But for all his failings, your father did his duty. I myself was a wealthy young heiress once and counted myself lucky to snare a duke. I elevated the status of my family, and in return, the funds I brought to my marriage kept this estate alive, ensuring hundreds of people remained gainfully employed.” She made to rise from the bench, and Theo moved closer, offering his arm for support.
They continued through the rose garden, moving on to the kitchen gardens closer to the house. Christ, the people employed to tend the grounds and gardens alone numbered in the dozens. His mother had a point. Who was he to take their livelihood away, to tell them they had to seek work somewhere else? Most of the people on the estate’s payroll had been working for the Embertons for generations. And he was going to let that come to an end simply because he wanted to follow his heart?
Over the last few days, he’d allowed himself to imagine a different kind of life, a simpler one, quiet and cozy with Bonnie. They’d take up residence in the cottage. She’d work on her books, have the time she’d never had to write to her heart’s content, and he’d set up an office and manage the Wharton holdings from there.
In the few quiet hours they’d spent together, he’d built an entire future with her. It was reckless and ridiculous, and he should have known better. It was a dream, a fantasy he indulged in for a weekend. But now, it was time to get back to reality. Deep down, he and his mother both knew he would never let all those people down, nor allow the Abbey to fall out of Emberton hands—not if he had the power to stop it.
As he escorted her up the steps to the house, his mother added, “Son, even if our plan to rent the Lakeland property pans out, it still won’t be enough. It’s a temporary solution. You know this. You have a head for numbers. I am sure you have seen the writing on the wall. It is only a matter of time.”
Theo did know. And now that he’d reviewed the costs involved with renting the cottage, the solution was even more temporary than he’d originally thought. “You’re right, Mama.”
“There now.” His mother smiled up at him. “I knew you would agree.” For the first time in Theo’s life, he’d almost say she was beaming. “By the way, you should know I’ve taken it upon myself to invite Lady Camille to tea.”
Theo swallowed, his smile decidedly less bright while the doors of fate sealed shut as surely as the gate to the conservatory swung closed behind them.
* * *
Bonnie sat on the bed in her dorm room, staring at a blank page. As she had every night since her abrupt departure from Theo on Sunday, she’d tried to take her mind off things by writing a bit before going to sleep. But her ideas had abandoned her. She was pretty sure her muse was still hanging out in the Lake District, the traitor.
Not that Bonnie could blame her, she didn’t want to leave the cottage either. If it was possible to fall in love with a place, she’d given her heart this weekend. It was as close to love at first sight as she’d ever come. Everything about the cottage felt right. As if it had been waiting for her to arrive, and now that she had, life could begin.
Not just her, but her and Theo together. The sense of peace she’d felt when she’d sat stretched out on the cracked leather sofa, feet in his lap like they were an old married couple instead of two peopl
e still learning their way around each other. For a moment, she’d thought, she could stay in that house forever, live there with Theo until they were as old and gray as Mr. and Mrs. Lindsey. Bonnie imagined herself writing in the little sunroom, their children playing in the meadow, lit with the golden glow of the sunset.
This. She’d thought. This is what I need.
But it wasn’t real. It was a fantasy.
Then why had it felt so right?
Clearly, Theo had not felt the same way. She shouldn’t be surprised. They’d both agreed on friends with benefits. No strings attached. Once she’d started forming an attachment, he’d cut loose and bailed.
Bonnie had tried calling him several times after he’d dropped her off at the train station on Sunday evening, wondering what had happened that he needed to head home so quickly, hoping everything was okay. But he never answered his phone. Didn’t return her phone calls or reply to her texts. Nothing but silence. He’d ghosted. Abandoned her as quickly as Willoughby had Marianne.
She got through the week one hour at a time, each piece of her day a stepping stone leading to the next. If she kept her attention on what she was doing, kept hopping from class to café to writing, kept moving forward, she’d get through to the next day. And she’d moved through the week in just that way—until Thursday—when her phone rang, lighting up with Theo’s number.
Her thumb hovered over the answer key. Seeing his number on her phone now, after giving up hope, she was tempted to ignore it. But that was something the old Bonnie would do. Ignore the problem, worry about it tomorrow, deal it with another day. No. New Bonnie would deal with this now. “Hello?”
“Bonnie?”
Except, it wasn’t Theo she was dealing with. “Tabitha?” she guessed at the identity of the female voice on the line.
“Got it in one!” Theo’s sister laughed. “Look, he’s probably going to kill me for nicking his phone, but I didn’t have your number and was hoping we could talk.”
Smitten by the Brit--A Sometimes in Love Novel Page 27