Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
That thought, Jared’s complete disinterest in me, floated above my head like the only dark cloud in the sky as I drove into Ardnoch that morning with the eggs for Morag. I considered calling Gail, my therapist, to arrange a session.
Morag sensed my preoccupation and didn’t keep me long. But as I was walking back to my car, I heard a familiar voice call my name.
I turned and found Sloane waving at me from the back door of her bakery.
Sloane.
Seeing her pulled me out of my gloom. Because Sloane cared about me. I knew she did. Which was why I’d been avoiding her since I’d married Jared. I dreaded telling her. Mentally scolding myself for the wallowing self-pity that had overcome me, I forced myself to walk toward her.
Guilt was already building up from my feet with each step, and it only sharpened when Callie suddenly appeared at her mom’s side.
Ah, hell.
Lying to them pained me.
As soon as I reached them, Sloane grabbed my left hand and pulled the ring up to her face. She gaped at it and then at me. “I wasn’t sure I quite believed everyone until this very moment. You’ve been avoiding me, Allegra Howard. Or should I say Allegra McCulloch?”
My gaze darted between her and Callie’s identical expressions of indignation. “I … we’ve just … We felt bad about lying for so long. I guess, I just didn’t know what to say.” There. That was pretty much the truth.
While Sloane studied me with a deep line between her brows, Callie suddenly beamed. “Aunt Ally, all anyone can talk about is how you got Jared McCulloch to settle down. No one’s surprised it was you, though.”
I scoffed, my self-doubts still lingering. “Why?”
Callie frowned now too. “Because you’re, like, one of the sickest people ever. You’re an amazing artist, you’ve traveled, you’re tougher than anyone knows, you treat everyone the same, even though you grew up in a mansion in Malibu, and you follow your own path. You and Mum are totally my heroes, Aunt Ally.”
Her sweet words hit and soothed every sore spot on my heart.
Before I could stop myself, I burst into tears.
“Okay.” Sloane’s eyes widened a second before she hauled me into the bakery kitchen.
“Did I say something wrong?” I heard Callie ask worriedly as I covered my face with my hands and sobbed.
I shook my head, trying to calm myself.
Sloane rubbed my back, leaning into me. “Allegra, talk to me. What’s going on?”
Grabbing tight to my emotions, my crying slowed, and I wiped at my tears. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep last night because of work, and it’s just been a really emotional few weeks.” I reached out to cup Callie’s face tenderly. “You just … what you said means a lot to me, sweetie. That’s all.”
Callie nodded, though she still appeared troubled.
“Right. I’ve decided.” Sloane squeezed my hand. “You and Jared are coming to dinner on Saturday so I can make sure you’re all right. There’s no saying no. You don’t show and I’ll send Walker to come and collect you both.”
I laughed tearfully at her warning. “Okay. We’ll be there. Just text me the details.” Jared would have to show up, whether he wanted to or not.
“Oh, and, Ally?”
I met Sloane’s suddenly reproachful gaze. “Go talk to your sister. She’s worried about you. Now I am too.”
Guilt slashed through me. “I’m fine.”
“That may be … but I’d feel better if you’d stop avoiding Aria.”
“She told you I’m avoiding her?”
Sloane nodded. “She’s really upset.”
I was such a shit sister. “I’ll go talk to her now. I promise.”
The security guards at the main entrance of the estate recognized me and opened the gates. I’d made the drive onto the grounds many times, but it never got old. Ardnoch Castle was magical. The long driveway led through a stretch of woodlands before the trees disappeared to reveal grass for miles around the large castle. Flags were situated throughout the rolling plains of the estate—a golf course. It was still early in the morning, but there were a few figures in the distance, playing.
The castle was a rambling, castellated mansion, six stories tall and about two hundred years old. It was the club’s main building, but there were several buildings throughout the mammoth estate, including permanent residences that belonged to members like my parents and North and Aria. The estate sat on the coast and offered pine forests, rolling plains, heather moors, inland lochs, and golden beaches. A private beach was just a ten-minute walk from the castle.
As I approached, the familiar details of the building grew clearer—the turrets, the flag of the St. Andrew’s Cross flying from one of the parapets. Columns supported a mini-crenellated roof over an elaborate portico that housed double iron doors. They opened as I drew to a stop and a valet appeared to take my keys so he could park my vehicle in the mews around back.