One hour before landing at Heathrow International Airport, I wanted to rock myself in a corner and turn the plane around, spending fifteen minutes in the bathroom fixing my hair and putting on lotion and brushing my teeth.
Ten minutes to landing, I stare out the window, watching for castles and looking at the English countryside, vying for any glimpse of Buckingham Palace or Big Ben or the city of London.
My heart races.
Across the lowered partition between our seats in first class, Ashley takes my hand and squeezes it.
My sweet, caring boyfriend…
…who I happen to be married to.
We have to figure out a way out of this mess, but if I’ve tried to bring it up once, I’ve broached the subject a thousand times—he’s just not ready to have the conversation, and lord knows I can’t hire an attorney to do the work for me.
Plus, we had exams.
Finals to get through, then graduation, though neither of us walked in the spring ceremony.
Walking in a cap and gown is the least of our worries right now.
I thought the Dryden-Jones would meet us at the airport, but I was wrong; they sent a car, giving me more time to fret and worry on the ride to their home.
Home?
Ha.
The house Ashley grew up in couldn’t be called a house—I believe he referred to it as a hall? Talbot Hall something or other, a stately “stone pile” in his family for generations.
Stable yard. Grand entrance with pillars flanking the end of the drive that goes on for miles, through—what did he call it…a park? Talbot Park. Deer and sheep graze. A pond with a fancy building next to it looking like something out of Pride and Prejudice.
I don’t know if I could get used to this…
Or perhaps I could.
Ashley is the spitting image of his father, tall and large. Lord Talbot (as I discover he’s called) is more personable than I was expecting him to be.
I thought I’d be meeting an ogre. A man who was going to lecture and look down his nose at not only me, but his son, displeased with his life choices and shouting about the shotgun Vegas wedding.
Not so.
I’m baffled by the entire scene.
Warmed by it, too, if I’m being honest.
Guilt settles in my stomach; I still haven’t told my parents, and Ashley’s are celebrating this as if it were wonderful news.
My parents are going to flip out.
There will be no chill with Susan and Bill Parker.
None.
Seriously, I can already hear my mother screaming and crying. Not even a chance to appear on a home improvement television show would calm her down.
As supportive as they’ve always been, I cannot see them supporting this.
As it stands, they do not know I’m in England. They think I’m visiting a friend before coming home for the summer and working like I always do, at a law firm in town where Dad’s best friend is an attorney.
I am shocked by Ashley’s family.
Shocked.
Even his brother Jack is here, sitting at the dining room table sharing jokes.
Jack clears his throat and all eyes turn his way. “Since we’re sharing news and having a spot of fun at Ash’s expense, I thought I’d share a bit of news myself.” He shifts in his chair, obviously uncomfortable. “Caroline and I…”
“Oh god don’t say it,” Ashley mutters under his breath, just loud enough for me to hear. “Please don’t say you’re engaged.”
“Caroline and I broke up.” Jack plays with one of the many forks resting next to his dinner plate. “Well, I broke it off with her, and she threatened to castrate me.” He laughs. “We’re done.”
Lady Dryden-Jones sets down her wine glass. “Jackie, why did you not tell us anything!”
“I’m telling you now. I had to sort it out—I knew she would be hysterical, and she was.”
“Rightly so—that girl was expecting to marry you,” Lord Talbot gruffly declares, though he doesn’t seem to care one way or another.
“She was a stiff,” Ashley adds. “He’s better off.” He looks at his brother admirably. “Well done, Jack. Well done.”
“Ashley! Boys.” Their mother looks distraught. “Jack, I thought—”
“I know what you all thought, Mum, but it’s over. We’re done.” His head gives a definitive nod, ending the discussion. “I want what Ashley and Georgia have.”
Whoa.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Ashley and I are not the poster children for a happy couple. We are a hot mess.
“With all due respect, Ashley and I barely know one another. I wouldn’t call us the model of the perfect relationship.”
“But that’s why it’s so perfect! You see?” Jack is getting excited, almost coming out of his chair. “You’re a bloody disaster, and that’s what makes it so brilliant!”
“Bloody disaster.” Ashley scoffs at his brother. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“You went and got leg shackled in the single dirtiest city in the blasted United States—you wouldn’t call that a disaster?”