Much Ado About You(94)

The cab pulled up to the huge sandstone mansion, and my bravery faltered a little. It didn’t do much to reassure me that Roane was an ordinary, down-to-earth farmer.

The house was set back miles from the main road, surrounded by fields. The lawns around the mansion were well kept and rolled for acres before turning into wheat and barley fields.

A dirt road turned into a gravel drive with a fountain in the middle.

An exterior imperial staircase led up to the front door of the grand home.

It was like a smaller version of Mr. Darcy’s house.

“Holy fuck.”

“Is this it?” the driver asked, staring up at the house in awe.

Just as I was about to step out, a figure appeared in the doorway. It was a woman dressed in a conservative pencil skirt and blouse. I waited as she elegantly walked down one side of the stone staircase, the gravel crunching underfoot as she approached the cab.

The driver rolled down the window.

The woman, who appeared to be in her midfifties, asked, “May I help you?”

“We’re looking for the Alnster estate,” the driver said.

“This is it.” She looked at me. “I’m Mrs. Smith, the housekeeper. May I help you?”

I licked my dry lips.

Roane had a housekeeper.

Of course he did.

“I’m . . . I’m looking for Roane.”

Her brows pinched together a little, as if she was trying to place me. “Mr. Robson does not reside here.”

“Do you know where I can find him?”

“Perhaps you would favor me with a name first?”

Wow, Mrs. Smith was old-school posh. I wasn’t sure I wanted to give her my name. I was afraid she’d know who I was and have us led off the grounds at gunpoint.

“I’m sorry to have bothered you.” I tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

We left the housekeeper staring after us, and I gave the driver the directions to the farmhouse.

Roane had been telling the truth. He really did live there and had a separate life from his parents.

Although my pride was still pricked, my trust still wounded, guilt niggled at me.

I should have stayed.

I should have listened.

Butterflies raged in my belly as the car meandered down the dirt road through the fields of sheep surrounding Roane’s coastal estate.

When the farmhouse and the agricultural buildings surrounding it came into view, my breath caught.

Then I saw him.

He and Bobby were unlatching the ramp from the truck to transport the sheep.

My heart began to pound in my chest, and despite the breezy day outside, my palms and underarms began to sweat. Even the backs of my knees sweat.

“This it?” the driver asked as he pulled to a stop at the house.

When I didn’t answer, he repeated the question.

I was too busy staring at Roane, who had frozen in place, staring back in astonishment.

“Yes . . . but can you wait? I’ll pay you to wait.”

“Sure, pet, but the meter’s running,” he warned.

I didn’t care about the meter.

My legs were like jelly as I stepped out of the cab, my hands shaking as I rounded the hood of the car.

Roane moved away from the truck and took a few wary strides toward me.

We stared at each other.

For what seemed like forever.

I felt like I hadn’t seen his handsome face in months. Those chestnut eyes . . . kind eyes. Roane might have lied about his age and the true extent of his fortune, but he’d never lied about who he was.

He’d doubted me when he struggled to tell me the truth, for fear I’d walk away.

But I’d made his doubts about me warranted by running away.

I shrugged helplessly, quite sure there wasn’t a blameless soul between us. “I’m so sorry.”

Roane blinked, momentarily surprised.

Then he was walking—no, racing—toward me.

His arms closed around me, and I found myself hauled against him as he slammed his mouth over mine in a hard, desperate kiss. It was bruising, ravaging, no finesse.

Yet it was the best kiss of my life.

My fingers dug into the muscles of his back like I was afraid at any minute he might be yanked away from me. He groaned, the sound delicious and thrilling, as his kiss slowly gentled.

Finally, he released me to press his forehead to mine. “Greer got my message to you then?”

Confused, I shook my head. “What message?”

“It took a bit of doing but I managed to track down her number. You wouldn’t answer my calls so . . . I called her yesterday. Asked her for your address in Chicago. She wouldn’t give it, but said she’d let you know I called.”

“But I was already on my way here . . . didn’t she tell you?”

Roane exhaled slowly. “No, she didn’t.”

Knowing Greer, she’d kept it from him to surprise him, even if it meant leaving him hanging in misery for a few more hours. I sighed, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob following in its wake.

“Do you forgive me then, angel?”

“I do. Does the call to Greer mean you forgive me?”

Roane lifted his head to cup my face in his hand. Those beautiful eyes of his shimmered as he gazed at me with all the love I’d missed so much these last few weeks. “I think I’d forgive you anything, Evie Starling.”