Page 53 of Arrogant Heir

Marian reaches out and touches my hand. ‘Me and my big mouth. I’m so sorry! I had no idea.’

I sip my wine. ‘No, it’s fine. You weren’t to know. Honestly, I didn’t want to make a fuss, but the reason I was available at the last minute to stay here for the duration of the contract was because I was desperate to get away from London for a break.’

Arthur’s eyes twinkle and he says, ‘I’m sorry, my dear. That can’t have been easy. Damian and I wondered what kind of fool would let you out of his sight for so long.’

A blush creeps up my neck at the mention of Damian, and I continue eating, but it’s difficult to swallow. My stomach’s queasy and I don’t know if I did the right thing telling them about Simon. I hadn’t planned to tell them, but it just came out. I figure I’ll be leaving soon, and it doesn’t matter, anyway. It’s of no consequence to them.

‘You’ll have fun at the ball. It’s a lovely event and a great opportunity to dress up and take your mind off things. What’ll you wear?’ Marian asks.

Grateful for the segue, I jump at it and tell her about the dress I bought in Winchester shortly after I arrived. I haven’t worn it yet and I think I might wear that. My new black designer sandals will match it beautifully. Before I can stop myself, I’m regaling them with how Damian invited me to choose some shoes at the store and how it seems like the ideal occasion to wear a pair of fabulous sandals.

We’ve finished our first course by now, and I notice Marian and her grandfather exchange a knowing look.

Have I put my foot in it and got Damian into trouble by mentioning he treated me to the shoes?

But then Arthur surprises me and says, ‘You really bring out the best in Damian. I’ve said before that he’s not the easiest to work with, but you two work brilliantly together. What started out as a misunderstanding has turned into a perfect match.’

Marian laughs and says, ‘Damian is so not the easiest to work with. You deserve a gold medal, Jamie.’

I’m embarrassed by their effusive words, but my insides glow. It’s always lovely to be recognised for doing a great job. But if I’m honest with myself, it’s more than that. They seem excited about me going to the ball with Damian, and I can’t help wondering if they see more happening between us. Perhaps Arthur wouldn’t disapprove of us dating after all…

There I go again. Getting carried away with my romantic fantasies about Damian.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ I say to Arthur. ‘I’ve loved working with you and Damian. And Marian, of course. We did a piece yesterday, which was very helpful.’

‘Marian leans over to her grandfather and tells him she explained to me about her father’s accident and how Damian blames himself.’

His eyes are mournful as they meet mine. ‘I’m afraid Damian still struggles, and I’m not sure if he’ll ever get over it. He’s a tortured soul, but I must say I’ve seen a marked difference in him the past few months.’

His unspoken inference hangs between us, and I’m speechless. Does he really think me being here has made such a difference to Damian?

My heart clatters and thuds as I try to stay calm and not read more than there is into his words.

After lunch, Marian lends me a pair of green wellies and we go for a lovely walk around the grounds, and Vivian, her mother, joins us. She’s just got back from a charity do, she says. ‘Talking of which, a little bird tells me you’re attending the annual charity ball with Damian. Unfortunately, I’ll be away so won’t be able to attend this year.’

I laugh, amazed at how fast news travels at Greystone. ‘I only confirmed yesterday! How on earth did you all hear so soon?’

Vivian confesses that they all get updates about important family events, so there’s no mystery. ‘Damian’s assistant is extremely efficient, and she confirmed your attendance.’

That makes sense and I’m relieved. I was getting paranoid.

I thank them for a wonderful afternoon and head back to the cottage with renewed enthusiasm to tackle my novel. Since Damian texted me yesterday and said he still wants me to go to the ball with him, I’m feeling much better, and the words are flowing again. There may even be a ball in the book if I’m inspired to take it in that direction.

Simon’s texting me a lot and continues prodding me to come home. I’ve told him I’ll be home soon anyway, but I can tell he’s pissed off with me, not jumping to attention and doing what he says.

He even mentioned making a new date for the wedding, but I teased him, saying he’s all talk and no action. There’s no point taking him seriously after what he did. I don’t know if we have a future together, but I don’t believe his wedding promises. He just wants me at his beck and call like before, and I tell him as much. Then he falls silent, and I think it’s probably just as well. He’s been a total dick, but I don’t feel right about leading him on when I’m so confused about my feelings for Damian.

On Monday morning, I receive an email with my official invitation to the Rochester Annual Charity Ball. I’d better try on the ‘revenge dress’ I bought in Winchester and see if I still think it looks as good as it did when I bought it. The ball is only five days away, so if not, I’ll need to do an emergency dress shop. The shoes from the Rochester store arrived as promised, and I’m thrilled with them. I decide to dress up this evening and do a trial run. It wouldn’t do to turn up as Damian’s fake date, looking anything less than my absolute best. Excitement bubbles in my stomach at the prospect of dressing up and spending a whole evening with him. I tell myself it’s good PR for when word of me being the family’s ghostwriter gets out.

CHAPTER35

Jamie

I’m about halfway through the first draft of my novel. The male love interest grows more like Damian with every chapter. The novel was originally supposed to be a straight-up contemporary romance, but early on it morphed into a fantasy romance and I’m loving seeing it come together on the page. I’m amazed at how you can have a vague idea float into your mind which turns into a compelling story as you get the words down. I’m writing pure discovery style—I don’t have a set plot and all I know is it must have a happy ending—it’s a romance, after all. People don’t read romance novels for unhappy endings. At this point, I’m keen to find out how the love story between the cursed prince and the young woman with special powers who’s fallen for him turns out.

Thank God for writing or I would have gone mad this week. Each day has trickled by and when I check my watch, it’s not just to see how much I’ve written. The Rochester manuscript is with the publisher, and they said they’ll come back to us with any final changes, so the agency asked me to stay on hand until the contracts ends. I thought it best not to mention I’m attending a ball with my client this Saturday night.

Damian and I have exchanged a few more texts about the manuscript, but neither of us has mentioned what happened at the weekend. He’s sending his driver to pick me up on Saturday, so it looks as though he must be staying in London until then.

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