Page 11 of Baron in Check
And nothing between her and Greg had changed. Could she be this lucky or was it wishful thinking?
“You kept the key?”
She held it in her hand and gave it to him.
“No, this is yours. You’ve always held the key to—” He stopped and turned to the butler who’d returned and placed himself firmly in the hall, taking in every word. “Do you need something?” He rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers while clasping the papers in the other hand.
“There’s a man with a brown dog, requesting to be paid,” the butler said. “He’s waiting outside.”
“I hired a carriage,” Hermy explained.
“A hack?” Greg asked.
“A local farmer. I’m evicted of sorts.”
“All the way from Kent?”
She nodded. He was the only one who asked about her, not just the estate.
“And the driver is waiting outside for you to pay him.” Greg pivoted and went downstairs.
This hadn’t gone as planned. Some of it had gone better than expected.
But what did Hermy expect? A warm welcome from her puppy-love-turned-guardian? As far as she could tell, he’d grown up to be a show dog who could jump, run, and win at any competition, while she’d been locked up like a mutt.
Greg walked downstairs,wondering if he’d gone mad and imagined a conversation with Hermy. Could he be hallucinating because he missed her so much? Had his imagination conjured her up? If there really was a carriage waiting outside, this was real. Hermy was back.
Hermy—his chest burned with all the pent-up heartache of the past five years, flaring as if alcohol had been poured over the fire.
She’d let herself in.
Greg remembered giving her the key as if it had happened five minutes ago, not five years. He’d managed to see Hermy just before she was ripped form his life five years ago.
“Come along,” Steven growled and tugged at Hermy’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Where are you taking her?” Greg wrapped his arms around her, unwilling to let her out of his embrace.”
“First to Willowby Park. If she’s not round with child in a few months, then we’ll see.”
“Take this house key.” Greg pressed it into her delicate hands and clasped his fingers over hers. “Anything you need, anything at all, you come to me, alright?”
Tears trickled down her cheeks and fell like raindrops as she blinked through her long lashes that framed her eyes like stars. Greg had never heard cry so bitterly and often wished it wasn’t the last he’d heard of her.
Well,now it wasn’t. She was back.
Steven had returned his letters unopened with threats of legal action that would have sullied Greg’s reputation and could have cost him his seat in parliament if he appeared at Willowby Park. And Greg hadn’t seen her again.
Until this day.
Greg stormed out the front door. Sure enough, a man tended to two horses attached to a black carriage. The wheels were so worn he could see this was not a safe ride. Why hadn’t anyone ensured that Hermy took a better carriage? Kent was far and the roads unpredictable and … oh, he was the guardian. It should have been him.
Greg shook his head as if he could shuffle his messy thoughts into order. Why hadn’t he been informed of this macabre twist of fate? He heaved for air.
He’d considered every possible scenario of kissing Hermy if he ever saw her again, of caressing her lush hazel hair, licking the buds of her breasts, and pressing himself into her with all his might. He’d been so focused on the center game that he’d ignored where other pieces might stand.
Breaking rule number two, he didn’t anticipate the next three variations in his opponent’s strategy. Steven had sacrificed himself to check Greg.
But it wasn’t a mate yet.
