Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Wells’ hand tightens in mine. I return the smile. Eleanor remains stone-faced.
“Morning,” I tell them both as Wells pulls out a chair for me.
We settle across from them, and I can feel his mother’s eyes on me, cataloging everything. My hair is still lightly damp. The mark on my neck from Wells’ love bites I tried to cover with makeup makes it hard to meet their gaze. I feel like a teenager whose boyfriend’s parents know what we were up to. At least that’s the vibe I’m getting.
“Coffee?” his father asks, already pouring before I can answer.
“No thank you,” I murmur. “Orange juice will be fine.”
“So,” his mother says, and I brace myself. “I assume you’ve both seen the coverage.” Eleanor launches right in. My ass is barely in the seat and she’s starting.
She slides a magazine across the table. I catch the headline—Royal Heir’s Mystery Woman: Who Is She?—and several photos. The kiss on the dance floor is the feature photo. It’s been blown up so it’s grainy. My face looks startled and exposed. The next photo is of us leaving the reception, Wells’ hand gripping mine, my expression unreadable.
I go pale. “Oh God.” My stomach drops.
“It’s fine,” Wells says, too loudly. “It’s just tabloid garbage.” His hand rubs my back, trying to soothe me.
“It’s not fine,” his mother says quietly. “Her name is everywhere. Her background. Her family.” She pauses. “Her father’s debts.” I flinch. I can’t help it. I never speak of my father. There isn’t much to say.
A fist slams down on the table, making everyone jump. The whole thing is rattling. Eleanor’s eyes widen in surprise, and the table goes silent. I peer over at Wells, who still has his fist resting on the table. He’s pissed. I have never seen him this worked up before.
“Mable does not speak to her father.” I don’t know him at all, honestly. There are a few vague memories from childhood, but it was always just my mom and me.
“I wasn’t aware that—”
“Because you haven’t taken the time to get to know her.” Wells pushes back from his seat, standing and offering me his hand. “I’m going to take my girl to a proper breakfast. You can sit here and read the same article over and over as if it will change anything. You can believe whatever you want, but know this: It won’t change anything between Mable and me.”
I reach to take his hand, but his father’s comes down on top of my other one. “Please, stay.” Wells is already shaking his head no. “If you are indeed serious about Mable”—Henry gives me a soft smile—“then family scuffles are something you work past. Now please. Let’s start again.” He nods for Wells to sit back down; he doesn’t. He has his attention on me. I squeeze his hand, and Wells finally concedes and takes his seat again. I don’t miss the expression that flickers across his mother’s face, but she’s quick to mask it. She’s not happy in the least that Wells looked to me for what we’d be doing.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you lose your temper,” his father says teasingly, sitting back in his chair.
“Then don’t provoke me.” Wells drops his arm across the back of my chair, his thumb stroking my shoulder. His mother’s eyes are absorbing every single detail.
“I don’t know anything really about my father,” I admit, not having anything to hide. They might as well know, if it’s going to be spread across the papers and internet. “I have been with my mother my whole life. You might assume her money came from my father, but rest assured, it did not.”
That’s all I have to say on that. Why would I tell them more? I’m sure Eleanor has already had me looked into and knows these facts. I’m on to her. I’m not going to bare myself to them when his mother is already trying to rip me apart. The table falls quiet, but thankfully the server returns with drinks and takes everyone’s order.
“I’m simply stating facts.” His mother folds her napkin. “This is why we vet these things. Prepare for them. You walked into that reception with no plan, no protection for her, and now she’s exposed. That’s not on her; that’s on you.” Oh shit, now she’s aiming for Wells.
“She’s not a secret to be managed,” Wells says through his teeth.
“No,” his mother agrees. “She’s a young woman whose life has just changed permanently. Whether she wanted it to or not.”
I put my hands in my lap to hide the slight shake. I’m not one for attention. His mother might be right. I’m not cut out for this. “Come back with us,” his mother says suddenly.
I blink. “What?” Did I hear her correctly?
“To our country, to the estate, both of you.” She looks at me, and I almost think I see concern in her eyes. “Let us help you navigate this. Show you what life would actually be like. Before you make any decisions you can’t undo.”