had to be the wiser.”
“And?” she urged gently.
“And I didn’t hate it,” I admitted. “I never saw myself as a mom, but suddenly…”
“You’re not drinking wine,” she filled in the blank. God, she knew me so well. She patted my arm. “Did you think about telling the Duke what was going on?”
“Are you kidding? Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Why not?”
“He hired me to tell his story. He couldn’t give two shits about mine.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I got the full education on what is expected of me. He’s to lead the charge and I’m to fit myself into his world, not the other way around. If I make myself too complicated, I’m replaceable.”
She forced me to look at her. “Why on earth would you want to spend any time at all with anyone who thinks that about you?”
“I have a couple of million reasons why,” I replied.
“There are some things money can never buy. Our self-respect is tops on that list. Say you go through with terminating the pregnancy but it’s not what you really want to do. Imagine the resentment you’ll start to feel for him for forcing your hand. You really think he’s going to get his money’s worth out of you? How is that fair?”
I hated when my Mom made these kinds of points. It made it impossible to win an argument with her. “What would you do?”
“We’re not talking about me,” she reminded. “But the Peaches I raised would be honest, be forthright and be fair. Even if it cost her something.”
I sighed. “Dammit, Mom. I just wanted to go to bed.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “And?”
I turned towards the gate, where my driver/footman/servant waited. “I’ll be back by dawn.”
Chapter Seven
I texted my driver as I walked towards the entrance of the compound. Unsurprisingly, he was already pulling up into the drive as I opened the huge wooden gates. I didn’t even want to know where he had come from or where he was staying. Such thoughts would make me even more wracked with nerves than I already was.
I had communicated through text that I wanted to return to Fifty Oaks, which was returned with a simple, “Yes, ma’am.” I thought I might have to explain myself, but as it turns out, they were as non-communicative via text as they were in person. I said drive, he drove. That was that.
The drive was a lot shorter from Ojai, so I was at the entrance of the castle before midnight. When the driver opened the door for me, I shook as I stepped out of the car. I had no idea what I was going to do next, or even if I should have called Audra instead.
But the way I figured it, this was between Auggie and me. And I wanted as few people as possible involved in the transaction.
“Can you… announce that I’m here?” I asked my driver. (God, I hated that I didn’t know his name.)
He nodded wordlessly before he led me into the house, taking me once again to the purple parlor. I paced nervously, wringing my hands as I waited. Minutes stretched on like hours. I could hear each tick of the grandfather clock in the foyer. When it gonged for the quarter hour, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Hello.”
I turned towards his voice. He stood at the opened French doors, his shirt opened to his waist, his hair askew and his face partially obscured by dark-framed glasses.
At least, I think that was the total picture. I couldn’t really get past the six-pack abs I wasn’t expecting. I’d seen them in photos of his raunchy stage act, but I wasn’t quite prepared for their splendor in real life. “I’m sorry to bother you,” I stammered.
He shook his head with a tsk as he walked further into the room. “What did I tell you about apologizing?”
I gulped. “I know it’s late.”
“I was up,” he said as he came to stand a few feet from me. “Is something wrong?”
“I…,” I started to say, but ran out of steam. All I could think about was how close a half-naked man was standing to me at that moment. And wasn’t that how I got into his predicament in the first place?
“I was working on some music,” he offered. “Would you like to hear it?”
“I… um.” I gulped. “Yes?”
He motioned that I follow him, leading me out of the door and down the magical lighted path going away from the garden. We reached another entrance, where the door