“But it does matter.”
She shrugged. “To me it does, and it took me getting an hour from the altar to realize it. Either way, I have to have my eyes open now. No more foolish decisions.”
William sighed and put his hands in his pockets. They had paused at the top of a hill, and the olive trees sloped down and away from them, running into a long, green valley. “It’s beautiful here.”
“Isn’t it? I understand Mama and Papa never wanting to leave, although they’ve been talking about moving closer to the city, into something smaller, for a while now. Even more so since Papa became ill. The ironic thing? They had a house in Perugia and they sold it when the economy shifted. The villa was more important to them.” She knew her voice sounded sad, but she couldn’t help it. She loved the villa and the rolling hills surrounding it. “But it’s a large house with large grounds and a lot of upkeep.”
“And they either need help with it, or need to change their situation.”
She nodded. “And I’m not sure they want to hire help. It’s not just the cost. I think it would seem less...theirs somehow. I don’t know if that makes sense.”
“Not really. I was born with the proverbial silver spoon. But just because I’m different doesn’t make their perspective any less valid. It’s a shame. I can tell you love it here.”
“It’s home,” she said simply. It was the place she came back to even as she loved her life and flat in the city. There were so many memories here. And so much love.
William held out his hand. “Let’s keep walking. We can circle around the grounds and make room for dinner.”
She hesitated, then put her hand in his. It fit so perfectly, her fingers clasped in his slightly larger, stronger ones. That curl of awareness was back, and she was once again unsure what to do about it. The situation was far too complicated to make it more so by getting involved romantically. But nothing bad would come from holding hands, would it? She thought back to her time spent with Stephen. Holding hands had never been his thing.
“You’re different from your brother,” she said.
“How so?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know how to say this without seeming uncomplimentary. He’s very polite and charming, but also a bit...”
“Cold?”
“Reserved,” she amended.
“He’s always been a little more somber than the rest of us. I think it’s a first-child thing, really. And something about the burden and weight of expectation. He’s the first son, heir to a title and estate. He feels responsible not only for our mother and the legacy he’s left with, but us, too. Honestly, it’s a burden he places mostly on himself. But you know the old saying, right? Heavy lies the head that wears the crown?”
She did know it, and nodded. “We are...were, anyway, friends. I like him very much. But he’s not really easygoing.”
“No. I’m trying very hard to understand his motives in all this. I guess his whole world was upside down and there was nothing he could do to make it right. The one thing he thought he could fix was Mother. He was determined to see her through her grief.”
“And I was part of his plan.”
“Stephen is a great one for making plans. Usually they’re good ones. This one was not. But only, I think, because it came from the wrong place. A broken place.”
“You’re very understanding. And...thoughtful. Not many men I know would understand those feelings so well.”
He squeezed her fingers. “I have a big soft spot for my brother. I see his flaws but I know the heart underneath. He would do anything for his family.” He looked away over the valley and Gabi saw his throat bob as he swallowed. “He saved me, you know. Gave me tough love and support and a shoulder to cry on, too.”
“He did?”
“Four years ago. Seems like a lifetime away now. I was twenty-four, done school, wasting my life, partying all the time. I had no direction, so I drifted in the wrong one. Hung around with the wrong people and did wrong things.” He paused. “I think deep down I’d always resented him being the center of everything and me being...less important. I started thinking of him as Saint Stephen, and I was determined to be what he wasn’t. I wasn’t the heir. I could do what I wanted.”
“You thought no one cared what you did.”
He didn’t look at her, but she took his silence for agreement. He was quiet for so long Gabi thought that was going to be the end of the story.
Finally he sniffed and rolled his shoulders. “He found me one day, in my London flat, still high on drugs and booze. I’d promised him I’d stop and it had lasted two whole days before I scored again. Stephen came in, put me in the shower, cleaned up my flat and took me to rehab. He was with me every step of the way. And so was my father. When I was clean, my father offered me a job at Aurora. Put his faith in me even though I didn’t deserve it. There was only one way I could repay both of them. I had to live up to their faith in me because I loved them, too.”
Tears had sprung into Gabi’s eyes as William told the story. “Addiction is a terrible thing.”
“Getting clean has been the hardest and best thing I’ve ever done. I told you before that I can’t repay my father. That’s true. He’s gone now.” His voice was thick with emotion, and Gabi realized he was still grieving, too. “But it’s also the reason why I have been so determined to make this right for Stephen. He saved my life. Saved me from myself. I owe him everything.”
She paused, tugging on his hand. “So this thing between you and me, this ‘back and forth, ignore it most of the time and acknowledge it occasionally’ attraction, it’s eating at you because of your loyalty to Stephen.”