I hugged my new confidence to me as I went to the connecting door and knocked before turning the handle.
It didn’t take long to realize he wasn’t in his suite at all. Still, I could easily run downstairs and find him, and I hurried along the hallway to the stairs, skimming them, feeling lighter than I had coming up last night. I remembered that. I’d been a fool. I should’ve asked him, told him what was worrying me. Misunderstandings were just that, and I believed now that he truly cared.
I heard his voice from within the study, and I hurried towards the door. I was brought to a sudden stop when I heard my name. James was on the phone, and he was talking about me. I ought to go away, and come back later.
I stayed, and listened.
“Yes, I know I said Antonia was suitable, Father. But …” He sounded anxious.
“No, you have to listen. I can find …” I heard the click of the chess pieces. I could picture him trying to calm himself by holding them, moving them.
“Yes, I know. I know I picked her for Edward. I know he’s my older brother and he needs to marry. But …”
My heart went cold.
“Yes, she’s utterly amazing.” There was warmth in his voice now, and I crept forward a bit where I could see him lounging in his chair with his back to me. “She’s bright, she’s clever, she’s beautiful, she could run the Estate like she was born to it.” He laughed. “Yes, and manage Edward too. But you …”
I stepped backwards, horrified. My heart was pounding so fast I could feel it in my throat. Had I really just heard that he had been training me, using me, and was going to give me to his brother to marry, someone I’d never met?
“Father. You keep interrupting. Please let me say what …” I heard him sigh. “You’re interrupting again.”
* * *
I’d heard enough. I felt utterly frozen. The humiliation of how I’d just given myself to him and had told him I believed that he cared, sawed at me from the inside, hacking my heart to pieces. Maybe I should go into the room, confront him, tell him exactly what I thought of him. I could do that. He’d know what interruptions meant for sure then. He’d not get a word in edgeways. I smiled savagely, but found I was running to my room.
My heart was like stone as I dragged jeans and some sweats from the closet. I couldn’t confront him. Not and get away without being found. I wasn’t going to stay and be passed along like a piece of … I swore under my breath. I couldn’t face him. The betrayal felt utterly complete. He’d reassured me, made me come, made love to me. Then the next moment, he was talking to his father about selling me out to his brother. He’d manipulated me. Rage and anger burned within me. I was out of here right now. I rubbed a washcloth over my face to wipe away the old tear streaks. No makeup for me now. I was going back to my world, the world where I belonged.
But not where he’d ever find me. My heart twisted in pain at the thought of never seeing him again, but a steely resolve drove me on and I slipped down the back stairs. I made my way out to the garaging and knocked on the window of Steve’s office.
He opened the door, looking puzzled. “Ms. Chapman?”
“Steve, can you run me to the metro station please? I’m late.” I tried to make him hurried, so he didn’t think why he’d not had a call from Lawrence, which would be the usual routine.
“Nobody’s phoned me,” he grumbled, “or I could’ve been ready for you, Miss.”
“Oh, that’s odd. But thank you, if we could just go now.” I felt really bad. He’d probably be in big trouble later because of me. But there was no other way to get out of here fast enough.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the car slipped through the early morning streets. The traffic was building up, and I hoped to get a good start. I pulled out my phone. I daren’t use it again. I called up Paul’s number and wrote it in the tiny notebook I kept in my purse. Feeling like a failure, I copied out James’ number too. Then I turned off the volume and vibration and dropped it into the glove compartment.
Outside the station, I leapt out of the car and leaned in. “Thanks so much, Steve, you were beautifully quick. Now, if you can go back and take Mr. James into work. Thanks.” And I turned away and went into the Metro, hoping against hope that he wouldn’t ring back to the house. Then I’d get a decent start. I hurried out of the other exit, and found an ATM. I felt sick as I withdrew the maximum that the ATM would let me, knowing I couldn’t risk using the card again and being traced, but even worse, that I was using James’ money to run away from him. As I tucked the cash into the tight front pocket of my jeans, I vowed that I’d send back every penny, just as soon as I was on my feet again. Then I leapt onto the bus that would take me to the next metro, where I could use the cash to get a ticket to the airport.