‘I wouldn’t worry about that.’
‘But you’re not me,’ she said slowly. ‘You don’t have anything to prove.’
He hesitated, and she wondered if, like her, he was hearing an echo of that moment out on the hillside above the Hall. Only that had been teasing, rhetorical... They both knew Arlo had nothing to prove. Whereas she...
‘Everyone has something to prove,’ Arlo said quietly. ‘Look at Davey. He owns a twenty-thousand-acre estate, but he didn’t earn the money to buy it.’ His hand touched her cheek. ‘He inherited it from his father, along with his title. That was the easy part. Now he has to run it well enough so that it will be there for his son to inherit. He wants to do the best he can.’
‘I want that too.’ She could hear the emotion in her voice but didn’t try to stop it. ‘After the accident, I made a promise I’d do everything I could to make my family proud of me.’
‘I’m sure they were proud, Frankie...’ Frowning, he tried to cup her chin.
But, batting his hand away, she shook her head. ‘Proud of what? The fact that I spent all my time on my phone? Messed up my exams? Dropped out of university? It’s not exactly most parents’ outcome of choice for their child.’
‘Did they say that?’
She made herself look at him. He was watching her calmly. ‘Of course not. They weren’t like that. They weren’t like me.’
They were like Arlo. High achievers. Top of everything they tried.
‘My dad was a paediatrician. My mum was a barrister. Harry was a junior doctor and Amelie was a solicitor. But they weren’t trophy-hunters they were good people...’
Better than good. They’d been decent, dependable, far more deserving of life.
Suddenly she was unbearably conscious of her guilt.
His brows drew together. ‘You’re a good person, Frankie. And I don’t believe for one moment that your family would want you thinking like this.’
The vehemence in his voice made her breath catch in her throat, but it was his hands, with their firm, unwavering grip, that steadied her. She felt a lightness inside her that seemed momentarily to reframe the choices she’d made.
He didn’t have to do this, she thought. Take time to reassure her. Leaning forward, she kissed his cheek, her lips soft and warm against his skin. ‘You’re a good person too,’ she said slowly.
As he let his head rest against hers she felt her heart contract. Since losing her family, the idea of getting close to someone, caring about them, had been too terrifying to contemplate. She couldn’t risk it happening again. To love and then lose someone again was beyond her. That was why she kept people at arm’s length, built emotional barriers between herself and the world.
Until Arlo. Seeing him so vulnerable had made something crack open inside her. But she had to keep things straight in her head. Maybe one day she would be able to love and be loved, but not here, not now, not with him.
This could only ever be temporary, and these feelings of tenderness were just the result of her loneliness and her desire to belong somewhere.
And besides, Arlo didn’t even believe in love.
He let his head rest against hers. ‘You’ll have fun, okay? I promise. Now, get dressed and pack whatever you think you’ll need. I’ve just got a couple of calls to make.’
* * *
‘I got Robert to bring the car round,’ Arlo said, turning to Frankie as they walked downstairs. ‘But I thought I’d drive myself.’
Glancing discreetly at his watch, he felt a ripple of astonishment as he saw the time. Incredibly, it had taken an hour and a half for Frankie to pack, but he’d waited patiently, sensing that to rush her would be counterproductive.
She had been nervous before, but now she seemed excited and he was the one feeling jittery.
No, not jittery so much as conflicted.
He wanted to go, for Frankie’s sake, but he was still dreading it. Partly that was because he’d never been as extroverted as Johnny and his parents, and he found spending time with his family en masse hard. But mostly the reason he didn’t want to go was because celebrating Davey and Serena’s tenth anniversary would remind him of his own failed marriage.
His stomach clenched. It was so unbelievably petty and shameful that he could barely admit it to himself, much less Frankie. Only she’d said that thing about her own family and he’d had to pull himself together.
She shook her head. ‘I still can’t believe I know someone who has a chauffeur.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just a useful option if I need to take my hands off the wheel.’