Arranged: An Array Series (Book #1)(60)

I released my clenched fists, my shoulders relaxing. More guilt assaulted me; not only did I upset her, but now she was rushing home to her ailing father.

I wiped a hand down my face. “Did you send out a doctor?”

“I did.” George handed me his drink, which I took, and swallowed its contents in one gulp.

“I feel bad, I think I...hurt her feelings.”

“You did,” George admitted. “She’ll never concede to it, though. What exactly did you do?”

I pinned him with a scowl. “I didn’t do anything. Why do you always blame me for shit?”

George raised a brow. “Because usually it’s your fault.”

“It was your meddling mother telling her that I was marrying Sophia that started it.”

George chuckled. “Oh, Femme Fatale. That again?”

I held my glass for George to refill. “She needs to keep her nose out of my shit. For her hating me so much, she sure has been talking about me a lot.”

“It’s just to keep Ava away from you,” George replied, walking to the mantel over the fireplace lined with liquor bottles. “Fix it. Because if she even thinks of not coming back, and I have to ride over there to grab her again, I’ll beat the living shit out of you.”

I mumbled, “I should beat the shit out of you for taking half my damn men.”

George rolled his eyes, swigging at his glass as he walked back over. “You would have sent them over yourself anyway.”

“Another part of our argument was you both marrying,” I advised, studying him for any signs of unease.

He handed my glass back to me. “What about it? I already talked to you in regard to that.”

“She makes it sound as though it’s going to happen.”

George scratched the back of his head. “If I don’t find another potential wife…”

“Don’t say it,” I croaked.

George leaned back against his desk. “Just say it, Garr. You’re developing feelings for her.”

I clenched my jaw. Saying the words felt like commitment; that I would have to stay in Telliva, which I definitely didn’t want to. “It’s complicated.”

“You liking Ava Barlow is complicated?” He let out a snicker. “Figure your shit out, brother. A female like that only comes once in a decade. I’m just sorry we grew up together. Maybe I would have found my dream bride.”

“I don’t want to be shackled down here. I hate the weather, the people, the—”

“Does that matter when you like the girl? Or do you still have puppy love for women?”

“Are you sure her father is sick?” I inquired, trying to change the subject.

George wrinkled his nose. “What are you talking about?”

“She could have forged the letter. This could be a plan to run and—”

“Stop,” George warned. “She would never lie to me.”

I raised a brow. “But she would lie to me.”

“About what?”

“Your little agreement,” I belted out, clenching my glass.

“She didn’t lie. She just…waited to tell you.”

Yeah, she waited all right. She waited until I almost took her completely, when there would be no going back.

“Speaking of the famous pain in the ass, has John found anything on Lady Chitwood?” George inquired, breaking through my menacing thoughts.

I sighed. “No. It’s like she knows to watch her habits. I was hoping he would find her walking out of another man’s room...but nothing.”

“She is bound to slip up. If the rumors about her are true, she’ll bury herself soon enough.”

“Most of them about her being a harlot, they are right. She talks like a courtesan.”

“From what you told me, she sounds lovely,” George sneered. “We need to come up with something quickly. My parents are getting restless. Madelyn’s death has rattled them more.”

“I’ll disappear and take Hara with me before I marry Chitwood.”

“Father would send half his damn army, and me, after you. Sorry, but I’d rather not trace the countryside looking for you.” He handed me his glass. “We’ll think of something.”

“I’m tired of thinking and planning,” I said, tossing back my drink. “I feel like I’ve done so much of it that I’m missing things.”

George sat on the edge of my chair. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“I need to go home.”

He slapped my back. “Why don’t you go check on your men? See if they are taking care of our prized jewel over there in Bampshire.”

I chuckled. “Fuck no. She’d have one of her pirate friends kidnap me and drop me off in the middle of the damn sea.”

∞∞∞

I was on my second decanter of brandy. The fireplace that I sat before started to morph into blobs of yellow and red, and I squinted to put them back into focus. I was drunk.

Very drunk.

I took another sip.

Red hair and sun-kissed skin assaulted my memory. I still hadn’t heard from her, and a part of me wasn’t surprised; she was stubborn and hardheaded.

She had been gone for almost a week. I had hoped she would have caved and sent something to me, anything. Something to tell me she was thinking of me, like I was her.