CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Edward
‘JUSTMAKESURE she gets it, won’t you, Marie?’
‘Of course, Master Fitzroy. But... Don’t you think it would best coming from you? If you could just say goodbye and—’
‘I don’t think she’s ready to be in the same house as me, let alone the same room.’
I eye the empty staircase as if I can somehow see her closed door, and beyond it her. Alone and avoiding me. Torturing me with her silence.
Two days since the ball and not a word. She’s taken food to her room, had the entire household worried sick, and me... I can’t stand it any more. Being so close to her and never more distant.
‘No, it’s better this way.’
Rufus whimpers at my feet. I’m not the only one she’s shut out in her desire to cut ties, and as my hand falls to his head I feel the ache of it...
‘I know. I know. I’ll try and bring her back to you, I promise.’
‘And what do I tell her if she asks where you are?’
‘The truth,’ I say to Marie, who’s still unconvinced.
‘Edinburgh’s a big place.’
‘And what does that matter? She’s hardly going to hunt me down, no matter how much I might wish it.’
She simply stares back at me and I blow out a breath. ‘I have a suite at The Balmoral.’
She nods, her eyes shifting to James as he approaches.
‘Your car is ready, sir.’
His sombre expression is the same one worn by every staff member. Without Summer’s sunny presence everyone is lost. But no one wants her back more than me...
‘She’ll come round, sir.’ Marie’s smile is full of encouragement. ‘I just know she will.’
‘I hope so, Marie,’ I say, though I fail to muster a smile in return. ‘I really do.’
One last glance up the stairs, hope that she will appear and put everything right giving me pause... But all I see is the ghost of a memory...her standing there two days ago, all ethereal and breathtaking. But that’s all it is—a memory.
I blink it away, force one foot in front of the other as I seek to make things right the only way I know how.
Gran wanted Summer to make Glenrobin her home, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure that happens...
Even if that means I’m the one who has to go.
Summer
I stare up the stone steps at the brass plaque on the wall bearing Mr McAllister’s name and ignore my nagging conscience that’s telling me it’s the wrong man I’ve come to see.
Katherine’s letter to Edward, handed to me by Marie at his request, is clutched in one hand, my letter from her is in the other, and I’m not even sure why I’ve bothered bringing them both.
They’re identical.
Short, sweet and to the point. She’s managed to write a personal message that’s so specific and yet it fits us both.
I wonder if she suspected we would share them...that we would see them as a sign that we were meant to be. I can just imagine the sparkle in her eyes, the soft smile on her lips as she penned them to us.