Sutton shook her head in disbelief. “Let’s stick to fighting about the mortgage on Easterly, shall we?”
“Answer the goddamn question.”
She threw up her hands. “You saw me in his office with him. What do you think.”
So he had, Edward thought on a surge of fury.
“Look,” Sutton said. “I don’t know what’s going on in your family, or why he wanted to do this. All I know is that it’s a good deal for me … and I thought it would help you out. Stupid me, I thought the fact that I would keep this discreet might actually benefit you.”
After a moment, he muttered, “Well, you’re wrong. And that’s why I want you to rip that up.”
“Your father has a copy, too,” she pointed out dryly. “Why don’t you go talk to him.”
“He made that deal with you because he hates me. He did it because he knows damn well that the last person on earth I would ever want my family to be indebted to is you.”
At least that wasn’t a lie, he thought as she gasped.
God knew he already felt like half a man around her anyway …
As Edward’s words sank in, Sutton jerked in her seat—and couldn’t catch the reaction in time to try to hide it.
Pride made her want to hit back at him hard, but the angry words log jammed in her head, and all she ended up doing was staring out at the choppy, muddy river.
The windshield wipers were on, and periodically, they made a swipe that gave her a momentarily clear view of the opposite shore. And it was funny, life was a bit like that, wasn’t it. You went along, doing your thing, not really seeing the full landscape of where you were for all the daily minutiae you had to take care of—when suddenly, things crystallized and you got a brief picture that left you going, Ah, so I am here.
Sutton cleared her throat—but it didn’t really do much, because as she spoke, her words were hoarse, “You know, I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you think so little of me. It’s really quite … it’s a mystery to me.”
Edward said something, but she talked right over him. “You must know that I fell in love with you a long time ago.”
That shut him up.
“You must know it. How could you not? I’ve been following you around for years—is that why you hate me?” She glanced over at him and couldn’t see much of his eyes because of that baseball cap—probably a good thing. “Do you look down on me for that? I always figured you strung me along because you assumed my feelings could be useful to you at some point—but is it sicker than that? I know I despise myself for the weakness.” She nodded at the papers. “I mean, that document there is a perfect example of how pathetic I am. I wouldn’t have done a deal like that, under the table, for anyone else. But I suppose that’s my problem, not yours, isn’t it.”
She went back to staring out the windshield ahead of her. “I know you don’t like to talk about what happened to you in South America, but … I didn’t sleep for the entire time they had you, and for months afterward, I had nightmares. And then you came back to Charlemont and wouldn’t see me. I told myself it was because you weren’t seeing anyone, but that isn’t true, is it.”
“Sutton—”
“No,” she said sharply. “I’m not going to let you all out of that mortgage. That would be just another part of this stupidity I have going on with you.”
“You have it all wrong, Sutton.”
“Do I? I’m not so sure. So how about we end this right now—you can fuck off, Edward. Now, take me home before I call the police.”
She expected him to argue with her. After a moment, though, he put the truck in reverse and turned them around.
As he headed back out to the road, she measured his grim profile. “You better pray that father of yours makes those payments in a timely fashion. If he doesn’t, I will not hesitate to put your family out on the street—and if you think that’s not going to get people in this town talking, you’re out of your goddamn mind.”
That was the last thing either of them said on the return trip to her house.
When he pulled in front of the mansion, she made sure to get her purse and take it with her this time—and the truck barely rolled to a stop before she leaped out.
She was pretty sure he said her name one last time as she took off, but maybe not.
Who cared.
As she ran through the rain to her front door, the butler opened things up for her.
“Mistress!” he exclaimed. “Are you all right?”
She hadn’t bothered with the umbrella, and a quick glance in the antique mirror by the door showed that she looked as worn-out and worn-down as she felt.
“Actually, I’m not feeling well.” No lie there. “Will you please let Brandon Milner know that I’ve taken ill and am going to bed? I was supposed to go to the ball with him this evening.”
He bowed. “Shall I call for Dr. Qalbi?”
“No, no. I’m just exhausted.”
“I’ll get you a tray and some tea.”