Page 23 of Cruel Dynasty

11

“We’ll stay for dinner and then we’ll leave,” Spencer promised me as we wound through the country roads leading us to Welbatten Hall. Twilight crept across the landscape, painting the world in muted, golden hues as the sun fled the sky.

“If you want.” I fiddled with the button hole on my jacket, the evening had begun to cool, another sign that summer was all but a fleeting memory. “We can stay as long as you like.”

Spencer glanced at me, his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, and grimaced. “If it was up to me, we wouldn’t go at all. I would be taking my supper in bed.”

“That sounds messy.” I stopped playing with my button and moved my hand to his knee. “Do you normally do that in the country?”

“Never.” He grinned and my heart did a little flip. “But you’re what I want for supper.”

“Oh.” I bit my lower lip, feeling an increasingly familiar surge of arousal at the suggestive tone in his voice. “In that case, I wish we’d stayed in, too.” I turned my attention out the window, watching the country fly by and sighed as my fingers began to dance impatiently.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“Because you’re drumming my knee,” he said.

“Sorry!” I stopped my fidgeting and did my best to keep my hand still, sliding my palm up his thigh where it could rest flatly.

“Well, now you’re giving me ideas.” He lowered a hand to cover mine as if to lock it in place. “But, honestly, you seem preoccupied, Kerrigan.”

I couldn’t help but think of what I would find if I slid my hand just a little farther up, but the idea wasn’t enough to distract me from my nerves. Each minute in the car seemed to make me more and more anxious. With Spencer next to me I had an anchor that kept me from being pulled under into a full-blown panic attack.

“Are you sure I’m dressed properly?” I blurted out. It was actually something worrying me, if not the primary cause for my concern.

“You look beautiful,” he reassured me.

That wasn’t what I asked but I preened a little under the compliment. After grilling Spencer on what to expect this evening, and Holden interjected his own thoughts, I’d opted for a cream silk blouse paired with trim, tailored black trousers that stopped just above my ankle and black Louboutin stilettos. Over it, I’d opted for a camel-colored cashmere jacket that felt like butter on my skin. I’d dared to leave a few buttons unfastened on my shirt to give glimpses of both my décolletage and the armor I wore under the sophisticated ensemble. My black lace bra cupped my breasts into delicate submission. In the right light, its outline could be seen through the lighter fabric of my shirt, which was exactly how I planned it. Spencer wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off me, which is what I really wanted, particularly with Beatrice around.

But, given that a Prince was going to be at tonight’s fête, I wondered if I looked too informal. I hadn’t been worried until Spencer had opted for a dinner jacket.

None of that was what really weighed on me, though. This was the first time I had to navigate a social encounter with someone who knew Kerrigan well, and I was doing so without Giles nearby. Although, I had my mobile tucked securely in my clutch in case of emergency. I hoped I was right and that any slip-ups would be excused by Kerrigan’s lengthy separation from Beatrice.

“He’s just another man,” Spencer said, calling me from my thoughts.

“Who? Holden?” I asked in confusion.

“Edward,” he said, his eyes darting to me and then back to the ever-darkening road. “That’s why you’re so anxious, right?”

I exhaled and seized the excuse readily. “Yes. That’s why. I’ve never met royalty before.”

“I thought you and Bea used to hang with Priscilla at Woldingham.”

It took me a second to realize he was referencing Priscilla Windsor, the daughter of one of King Albert’s brothers. Of course, Kerrigan had gone to school with someone like her. Woldingham catered to England’s elite. I wondered who else I was supposed to know.

“Oh, her. I meant real royals,” I said without thinking.

But Spencer burst into laughter. “Oh god, I wish she could hear you say that. I’ve only met her a couple of times but she struck me as a real twat.” He paused, regret instantly coloring his face. “I’m sorry. She was your friend. I shouldn’t—”

“It’s okay. I know a lot of twats,” I told him. At least, I imagined Kerrigan did based on what I knew about her.

“It is nice to finally meet some of your friends, though,” he tacked on thoughtfully.

“Yes, it is,” I said absently, then remembered myself. “I’ve been so caught up in other things I haven’t seen many of them since I returned.”

Spencer lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “You mean us. I’ve been selfish keeping you all to myself.”