Affairs of State(33)
“It’s not good to avoid your true feelings. Sooner or later they’ll come back to bite you. I learned that after my adoptive parents were killed. All that pain is scary, but once you come to terms with it you can move forward. Until then you’re stuck in a place of fear.” She squeezed her mother’s hands, which had softened again.
“You’re very wise, Ariella.”
“I wish I was. I just try to handle one crisis at a time. In my job there’s always another one coming so there’s no point in getting ahead of yourself.”
They laughed, and, taking a cue from the sudden intimacy, Ariella hugged her birth mother for the very first time.
* * *
Simon refused to let Ariella leave England without visiting his home. He promised that he wouldn’t stalk her around London or corner her in private drawing rooms as long as she’d agree to postpone her return flight until the following Monday so she could spend the weekend with him at Whist Castle. He insisted that, in her line of work, staying at one of England’s great country houses counted as research and client cultivation. After a little persuasion, and a conversation with her business partner, Scarlet, she agreed.
He had the staff prepare his mother’s favorite bedroom for Ariella, ostensibly because it had such beautiful views over the lake, but mostly because it had a door connecting it with his own bedroom. It had taken all his gentlemanly self-control to keep all their activities above the neck so far, and he intended to steer them both into unexplored territory this weekend.
His driver brought Ariella up from London on Thursday evening. He had a full schedule of activities planned to keep her entertained and give her a slice of English country life, and he intended to introduce her to the family at a charity polo match taking place nearby on Sunday. This weekend would be an excellent taste of the pleasures and realities of life in the royal family.
The realities, of course, might scare her. There was no denying that his family had rather fixed ideas about whom he should marry. Someone British, with aristocratic heritage and a featureless past that could not draw comment in the press. Of course he’d informed them that he would marry for no reason other than love, but he wasn’t entirely sure they’d listened. He’d been raised to believe that duty trumped all other considerations, including happiness. So far he’d managed to find his own happiness within the confines of his duty, creating opportunities where he saw them. There was no denying that choosing Ariella as his bride would likely draw censure and disapproval.
On the other hand there was no good reason for them to oppose her, and sooner or later they usually saw reason. He just hoped they wouldn’t frighten her too badly.
He tested the handle on the connecting bedroom door, and pocketed the key. No sense filling his head with plans then finding himself locked out. His body throbbed with anticipation of being alone with Ariella. From the first moment he’d seen her, across the ballroom at that gala event, he’d had a powerful sense that she was the one. So far he’d managed to battle all the forces standing between them, and now he was within reach of holding her—naked—in his arms. The prospect heated his blood and fired his imagination.
He hovered at the front windows looking for the approaching car, fighting the urge to phone and see how far away she was, then practically ran down the stairs when it finally nosed up the drive. He couldn’t remember being this eager to see anyone, ever.
Ariella looked radiant, as usual, in a simple black dress, with her long hair flowing over her shoulders. A smile spread across her pretty face as she saw him, and he felt his own face reflect it back. “Welcome to Whist Castle.”
“It’s every bit as beautiful as I’d imagined.”
“I’m glad you think so, too, and you haven’t even seen the grounds yet. Come in.” He fought the urge to slip his arm around her waist, which took a great deal of self-control. “How did your meeting with your mother go?”
“It was amazing.” He glanced at her and saw her smile. “I’d been so worried that she’d seem like a stranger, that maybe we wouldn’t even recognize each other. But I felt an instant connection with her.”
“That’s fantastic. Do you think you’ll see her again soon?”
She hesitated. “I don’t know. I really hope so. She’s still deathly afraid of publicity and the criticism she’ll face for giving me up and not telling Ted Morrow about me. I got all carried away and started trying to convince her to move to D.C.”