∞∞∞
The next morning, I dressed quickly and braided my hair before walking down the long hallway toward the stairs. Eve’s words had echoed in my head all night. You have one on your back right now. Edward deserved a smack upside the head for putting it there. In my next life, I’d stay away from any king or prince and make non-royal, regular friends without any ties to madness surrounding them.
My stomach grumbled, knowing Mrs. Reynolds would have a light breakfast waiting for me. I hadn’t eaten much last night with my frazzled nerves. I greeted Mr. Brooks, who murmured his ‘Good morning,’ and walked into the dining room. Pushing through the door, I saw a man sitting at the table, reading the newspaper.
George.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” I said in an exasperated tone. “Are you moving in?”
“If I’m greeted like this every morning, moving in sounds most inviting,” the voice behind the paper replied. I shook my head and walked over to the table adorned with fruits, eggs, and bread.
“How long are you planning on staying?” I asked, filling my plate.
“As long as you’ll have me.”
“Morning, dear,” another voice drifted in behind me. I turned to find George walking in wearing a smile. My stomach sank, and I looked back to the person holding the newspaper.
The paper dropped to reveal a familiar set of blue eyes; ones I hadn’t seen in years.
Garrett Cranfield.
My breathing hitched. Garrett folded his newspaper and watched me, a smile softening the sharp outline of his square jaw. It was more defined than it had been; the dusting of stubble was also new. Swallowing, my eyes dropped to his broad shoulders and wide chest before I quickly corrected myself. As Mrs. Reynolds would say, ‘A lady doesn't stare.’ Still, I was certain he'd not looked quite so...large when last I'd seen him.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he greeted.
I paused for a moment, my mouth not able to form words. “H—Hello,” I stuttered.
George came to my side. Looking at my overflowing plate, his brow raised. “Are you hungry?”
“Shut up, George,” I grumbled. At the table, I sat across from Garrett, feeling his eyes on me, and my face went up in flames.
“It is good to see you again, Avie,” he said, keeping a smile plastered on his rugged face.
Avie.
I hadn’t heard that nickname since we were together at the safehouse. That time seemed so far away, but I remembered it all in excruciating detail. The way he beamed when he won a hand at cards, how he laid out my meals with a flower, and made sure I had some time to myself when I wanted to take a bath. He had sent back some of his men to grab my clothing from the orphanage, and his attention to every detail, to make me as comfortable as I could be.
“You as well, Lord Cranfield,” I replied with a smile, grabbing the raspberry jam off the table.
A line formed between his brows. “Please, call me Garrett. You used to,” he urged smoothly.
“Did you send a rider back to Father?” George asked Garrett while taking a seat next to me.
Garrett raised a brow. “I sent John. I don’t trust anyone else.”
“I’m surprised he still works for you,” George mused. “After you sent him riding into dangerous territory to—”
“—save your ass,” Garrett cut in. He eyed his brother for a moment before bringing his gaze back to me. “How have you been?” He rested his head on his fist, fully focused on me.
I swallowed, trying to focus on what to say. Instead, all I could seem to do was stare at his perfect face. “I—I’ve been fine. Enjoying my life back at home.”
“I’m sure. More spacious as well. That hut and the orphanage weren’t big enough for a lady of your stature.”
“Her stature?” George repeated.
“Absolutely. Avie isn’t a woman you coop up.”
George dropped his fork against the glass plate with a clatter. “You aren’t helping my case here at all to bring her home, brother. Why are you here again?”
Garrett narrowed his eyes. “I already told you. Father threw a royal fit after you left. I received your letter on where you were headed”—he spread his arms, showing his presence—“and here I am.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” George mumbled, picking up a grape and popping it in his mouth.
“Apparently, you do. Most toddlers don't just leave on a whim and scare everyone half to death...multiple times,” Garrett said, raking a hand through his hair.
“How have you been, Lord Cran—”
“Garrett.”
“Garrett,” I repeated.
Garrett cast a dark glance at George. “Protecting the realm, and this idiot from being killed.”
Before George could open his mouth, because I knew he would, I continued, “I’ve been managing my father’s inventory for his business and conducting trade deals. I also visit the orphanage in town whenever I have a chance. I brought all of the children home with me.”
“Did you?” Garrett inquired, raising a brow. “What did you say there were? Twelve altogether?”
I grinned. That little detail would be so insignificant to someone of his importance, but the fact that he remembered made me a little giddy.
“You brought twelve children here?” George asked incredulously, pointing down. “To this house?”
“That sounds like you,” Garrett put in. “How do you like being in trade?”
“I enjoy it very much,” I beamed. “I’ve saved us hundreds of pounds and continue to expand our territory. I’m actually considering a few deals in Hegnen.”
“Hegnen?” Garrett repeated, leaning back in his chair. “Impressive. The men in Hegnen are very cautious. They don’t make rash decisions when it involves new...well, anything. They are very independent on their own.”
I placed my fork down. “Exactly. That’s why I’ve sent over samples of spices and fruits—things they’ve never seen before—in hopes they’ll sign the deal.” One of our servants walked into the parlor, placing more steaming hot coffee on the table.
“Cora, what time is it?” I asked.
“A quarter before ten, my Lady,” she muttered. Thanking her, I popped a grape in my mouth.
“I must be off,” I announced, standing.
“Where are you going?” George inquired through a mouthful of eggs.
“Going to the shipping yard to check on Mr. Torres.”
“By yourself?” George barked.
I turned and frowned. “Yes, by myself. This is Bampshire, a small ocean town. Not Lvon, the capital of whores and gambling halls.”
Garrett chuckled behind his hand while George stood. “A shipping town still has burly men with bad intentions, and pirates.”
“And if they act on those bad intentions, I have a surprise waiting for them.”
“What kind—”
“May I come along? I would like to see this small empire you and your father are building.” Garrett interrupted.
“Absolutely. I would love to show you around.”
“I’m coming as well,” George said.
I rolled my eyes. “Like you’d stay here by yourself.”
Both men followed me out of the small dining room and toward the side of the house. We made our way to the stables, where I saddled my black mare, Onyx. Our ride wasn’t a long one, but through every minute of it, I knew exactly where Garrett’s horse was. A morning chill caused goose bumps to run along my body, and I shivered. I blamed it on the small wind, and not how strapping Garrett looked.
When we entered town, it was already bustling with carriages and people. Fruit markets lined the walkway, and children were running all around, dodging legs as they go. I waved to a few townsfolk I knew, and we continued the short distance to the shipping yard.
The smell of the salty ocean filled my nostrils; it was one of my favorites. The scent of endless possibilities on the open seas. Birds gawked and flew in circles over the unloading ships. Burly men hustled up and down ships, carrying goods and supplies to the front of our inventory building. Mornings were always busy.
“Mornin’, Lady Barlow!” shouted Frankie. The boy creased his brows, looking at the two men at my side.