she must have bolted it. He wasn’t about to go check.
He put his head down and walked across the courtyard and out the front gates before his chivalry hung itself about his neck like a millstone and kept him from going on with the most sensible course of action. He ignored the fact that if Tess Alexander had been his, he would have lowered every damned portcullis the keep boasted and posted two dozen guardsmen with sharp swords and sour dispositions outside her door to keep her safe.
But as she wasn’t his, he couldn’t do any of that. He also couldn’t bloody well camp in his car in her car park, either.
He cursed his way to his car, cursed some more as he backed out, then continued to accompany himself with foul words as he headed down the road back to the village.
He wasn’t going to spend the night worrying about her, or pace until dawn because he was losing sleep over her, or think any more about how many times he’d fought the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her securely against him. She was not for him and he was not for her.
The sooner he accepted that indisputable fact, the happier he would be.
He would go home and make a list of all the reasons he didn’t like her. Hell, he didn’t know her well enough to dislike her, but he was certain that a list of that sort could be made with enough diligence.
And once he had done that, he would return to his very sensible, monotonous existence of being a mediocre studio musician, a modestly skilled restorer of expensive cars, and a compulsive watcher of stocks on his damned phone.
He honestly couldn’t imagine anything more interesting.
Not at all.
Chapter 7
T ess leaned against a wall in an alcove leading into a courtyard in the oldest part of the second oldest university in England and shivered. She wasn’t one for leaning, but she was just stretched too thin at the moment to do anything else but try to keep herself upright.
She’d been in Cambridge for less than two days and to her utter surprise, she found she was ready to be finished and go home. It was odd, that sensation, given that she’d worked the whole of her life to get to where she was standing. From the time she’d understood in what sort of unstable situation she’d found herself in with her parents, she’d vowed that she would make something different for herself. Her chance had come at fifteen, when her parents had dumped her and her five sisters onto their aunt Edna and vanished without a backward glance.
Her older sisters, Moonbeam and Cinderella, had been already on their way out the door by that point and hadn’t been subjected to the full brunt of the Victorian-era-inspired living conditions. Her younger sisters, Pippa and Valerie, had had to endure it longer than she and Peaches had, but she hadn’t minded it at all. She’d had her sights set on Cambridge from the beginning and Aunt Edna’s Victorian Institute of Arduous Study by Candlelight had suited her. She’d graduated from high school two years early, then blown through her undergrad and graduate degrees in just under six years. She’d just begun to work her way up the academic ladder when the offer of a castle had come her way and completely changed her life.
She looked out into the courtyard steeped in history and wondered why it was she wasn’t still feeling that almost feverish urge to climb over everyone in her way to get to the top.
She put her hand briefly to her head. No fever. Maybe she was having a midlife crisis. She was tempted to call Peaches and see if that sounded reasonable, but she suppressed the urge. Losing a sibling was probably pretty high up on that Life Change list, so maybe she just needed to take it easy and roll with things for a bit.
She didn’t particularly care for rolling, truth be told.
She was going to have to make a few life decisions very shortly, whether she wanted to or not. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be teaching full-time, but she also wasn’t sure she
He put his head down and walked across the courtyard and out the front gates before his chivalry hung itself about his neck like a millstone and kept him from going on with the most sensible course of action. He ignored the fact that if Tess Alexander had been his, he would have lowered every damned portcullis the keep boasted and posted two dozen guardsmen with sharp swords and sour dispositions outside her door to keep her safe.
But as she wasn’t his, he couldn’t do any of that. He also couldn’t bloody well camp in his car in her car park, either.
He cursed his way to his car, cursed some more as he backed out, then continued to accompany himself with foul words as he headed down the road back to the village.
He wasn’t going to spend the night worrying about her, or pace until dawn because he was losing sleep over her, or think any more about how many times he’d fought the urge to pull her into his arms and hold her securely against him. She was not for him and he was not for her.
The sooner he accepted that indisputable fact, the happier he would be.
He would go home and make a list of all the reasons he didn’t like her. Hell, he didn’t know her well enough to dislike her, but he was certain that a list of that sort could be made with enough diligence.
And once he had done that, he would return to his very sensible, monotonous existence of being a mediocre studio musician, a modestly skilled restorer of expensive cars, and a compulsive watcher of stocks on his damned phone.
He honestly couldn’t imagine anything more interesting.
Not at all.
Chapter 7
T ess leaned against a wall in an alcove leading into a courtyard in the oldest part of the second oldest university in England and shivered. She wasn’t one for leaning, but she was just stretched too thin at the moment to do anything else but try to keep herself upright.
She’d been in Cambridge for less than two days and to her utter surprise, she found she was ready to be finished and go home. It was odd, that sensation, given that she’d worked the whole of her life to get to where she was standing. From the time she’d understood in what sort of unstable situation she’d found herself in with her parents, she’d vowed that she would make something different for herself. Her chance had come at fifteen, when her parents had dumped her and her five sisters onto their aunt Edna and vanished without a backward glance.
Her older sisters, Moonbeam and Cinderella, had been already on their way out the door by that point and hadn’t been subjected to the full brunt of the Victorian-era-inspired living conditions. Her younger sisters, Pippa and Valerie, had had to endure it longer than she and Peaches had, but she hadn’t minded it at all. She’d had her sights set on Cambridge from the beginning and Aunt Edna’s Victorian Institute of Arduous Study by Candlelight had suited her. She’d graduated from high school two years early, then blown through her undergrad and graduate degrees in just under six years. She’d just begun to work her way up the academic ladder when the offer of a castle had come her way and completely changed her life.
She looked out into the courtyard steeped in history and wondered why it was she wasn’t still feeling that almost feverish urge to climb over everyone in her way to get to the top.
She put her hand briefly to her head. No fever. Maybe she was having a midlife crisis. She was tempted to call Peaches and see if that sounded reasonable, but she suppressed the urge. Losing a sibling was probably pretty high up on that Life Change list, so maybe she just needed to take it easy and roll with things for a bit.
She didn’t particularly care for rolling, truth be told.
She was going to have to make a few life decisions very shortly, whether she wanted to or not. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be teaching full-time, but she also wasn’t sure she
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