Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Rationally, it made no sense. All wealthy or privileged folk were not thoughtless or entitled and out of touch with the common person, all working-class folk were not slovenly and ignorant and undeserving, earning their low station by not working to get out of it.
People were people.
But the truth of it was, the amount of privilege Ian had, and the long, storied history of the family that went before him that carried the same, made him mysterious, fascinating…other.
That was it.
He was a rarity.
It was not that they were in the presence of their better.
Simply of their other.
A man who lived a life and came from a line that they couldn’t fathom, that would never be theirs, no matter if they made a lot of money or garnered tons of fame.
The beauty of it, the thing I found extraordinary and astonishing with the extent of his wealth, the vastness of the history of his family, was that Ian was clearly not out of touch. He realized this, and in the subtlest of ways, moved to alleviate it. Eye contact. Please and thank you. Compliments to the chef. Smiles to people who passed him on the street. Stopping to scratch the head of a dog or tell a woman the baby in her pram was beautiful. Taking his time for those who wanted it to assure them that Lord and Lady Alcott were doing very well, thank you for asking.
It was no surprise I found him enormously attractive.
It was just, in that village, was where I was both terrified and exhilarated to understand I might just be falling in love with him.
At the same time, the turn of my thoughts was about the other members of his family, particularly Daniel, who had dipped his toe in this pool.
I, too, had a life of wealth and privilege. I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to turn the son of the earl’s eye and take him to my bed, and what hopes I might pin on that. Only, after he was done with me, to find myself serving his house, his family and new girlfriend, and him not giving any indication he’d shared that integral connection with me.
That didn’t excuse what Brittany did to me, but a part of me understood it.
And even if Daniel gave off the air of the bungling, handsome, likeable lad who would never quite grow up, I hoped Portia moved on from him.
She couldn’t be a taskmaster. She couldn’t keep him in line, something, Lady Jane was correct, he seemed in need of having. Portia was a woman who needed to be taken care of, not the other way around.
And she deserved strength and devotion, but she also deserved someone who wasn’t a bumbling idiot who careened from mishap to mishap, leaving damage in his wake.
“It happens, and you should know it,” Ian said low, taking my attention.
I turned my head to him. “What happens?”
“This, while being out with me.”
Okay, now I was feeling strange, in good and bad ways (mostly good) at how in my brain he was already, because I knew exactly to what he was referring.
“Truthfully, it’s at its best here, in the village,” he shared “Also in some senses, the town. People know us. We’re not a curiosity. In London, other places…”
He didn’t finish.
I did it for him. “You’re Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous, Aristocracy and Secret Royalty edition.”
His lips tipped up. “Something like that.”
I tipped my head to the side. “Have you been with women who found it difficult?”
“No. But I have been with women who’ve grown addicted to it.”
I pulled a face.
“Precisely,” he agreed.
“I haven’t escaped that, you know. Dad was a big personality. He did not shrink from the limelight. It was the opposite. And Lou’s famous.”
“And you’re beautiful.”
I shrugged and took a sip of my cider, but those words sure were nice coming from his lips.
“When you’re with me, and we’re not here, we’ll be photographed. Often,” he warned.
I drew in a breath on that.
But there was nothing for it. It came with him. I wanted him. So if we got to that point, I’d suck it up.
However, Ian needed reassuring. I knew it when he said his next.
“Portia lives life boldly. You, privately. I didn’t need investigators to tell me some things. A simple Google search, even on your name, brings up more pictures of her than you.”
“It might not be an everyday thing for me, but it is for Lou. In London, she can’t walk down the street without people staring. Dad needed security. It’s been part of my life.”
“Darling, you can’t duck your head and look cute trying and failing to hover in Lou’s shadow. With me, it’ll be inescapable.”
He had an uncanny knack at saying all the right things.
If I wasn’t falling for him, I’d find it scary.