It was like they were traversing time--backward. She wrapped her arm in his and hoped to lighten the mood by changing his focus. “What is it about Max that made you do a one-eighty on marriage?”
He stared at her with emptiness in his dark eyes, but finally he blinked, and tapped her hand that held his arm. “Why are you asking?”
The gate was up and the heavy wooden doors banged open like they were inviting in horses and a battalion of soldiers instead of the two of them.
Inside the castle he called home, was a small town.
A bakery was the first thing she smelled and the sweet confectionary made her mouth water for sugar cookies.
They walked farther in and the townspeople, all wearing modern jeans, stared at them.
No cars were inside the compound. Her mind raced with lots of questions, but Astorre seemed… sad. So she bubbled with observations to jot down later. “At lunch, your friend Stephano was startled that Max was there, in Gibraltar. Rossie asked if it could have been some plot to get your property. You did make it known to everyone you weren’t interested in your money, or title. So I was wondering… was there more to your dislike than what you said?”
“Yes and no.” He greeted anyone who bowed at him, with a nod of his head.
The townspeople, no doubt related to their medieval ancestors who'd also lived here once, went back to whatever they were doing, though the old blacksmith shop they passed now looked more like a bank.
She rubbed the goosebumps from her arm and continued to do her best to keep Astorre's spirits up, “Which is it?”
They headed up the stone streets toward the interior castle that was somehow even darker with thick fog all around it. Astorre said, “He… in a few minutes you’ll meet Olivia. He wanted to marry her and have the title I intended to forfeit and my money, but he didn’t care about my sister, at all. She was his meal ticket. She’ll tell you what he intended for her, herself, I believe, so I’ll let her fill you in. But there was no way I’d let him anywhere near you, Clara.”
If Olivia was inside,this, how in the world did she live, or love? Clara’s heart raced as the next ironed gate was pulled up for them. “I’m not a delicate flower that needs protecting though…your motive doesn’t make sense.”
They headed inside as he asked, “Why not? You clearly don’t see your value.”
“Pot meet kettle.”
“What?”
“American expression that means we’re two of a kind.” It was hard to believe that she was here, not on some tour, but she was supposed to live in what should be a museum, sort of like the Tower of London. “You were so determined to give it all up.”
Her hair stood on it end as he said, “Yet I went on a trip with you instead of drinking myself into a stupor by my birthday.”
The zip in her veins was because she wished somehow to minimize his pain, but as they passed a metal knight statue that was probably once an original outfit, Astorre said, “Clara, I was starting to change my mind about marriage the moment we met.”
Today had been a whirlwind. She grabbed his biceps with her fingers to get him to stop walking. “Wait… you were interested in me? Seriously?”
Skinny Clara the unfortunate wasn’t the type to win a handsome guy. She’d not even wanted to try.
"Clara." He kept his voice low as they entered the great room of a castle that had hard wooden floors and a square wooden chandelier that might hold small torches. “It’s not hard to believe.”
Yes it was. She…well, she wasn’t any man’s prize. The lights went on and she could see the entire room.
The castle had electricity running throughout and not fire like in the old days, but the place didn’t matter as much as Astorre. She stood on her tiptoes to speak into his face. “It kind of is. You’re handsome, rich, and were so adamant about throwing away your fortune, at least to me.”
He hugged her to hold her steady. “I thought you were safe at first because we had nothing in common. Then we talked and agreed more than we disagreed so I invited you on a tour. You made me laugh. Of course I wanted to bed you, not have you write some book.”
His lips met hers and she forgot anything else as her arms wrapped around his neck.
Once the kiss ended, she sighed a little and her mouth still ached for more as she tugged at his collar and joked, “Bed me sounds old-fashioned, not that I'm surprised standing here, and we were married which is different.”
He directed her through the hall, his hand to his chest. “I was honoring your declarations that you didn’t want me, and I didn’t know how to handle that.”
If he'd been interested, maybe he should have let her know? Her gaze narrowed as Astorre wasn’t exactly what she thought of as modest. “So?”
He held her possessively. “So when another man expressed interest, a man I know to be wrong for you, I asked and you said yes.”
“Well you didn’t quite ask, but I did agree.”
