Love Language (The Aristocrat Diaries 1)

“You put it much nicer than I did.” I sniffed, leaning into him for a hug, which he obliged by circling his arms around me. “You didn’t see Daddy when he left. He just packed a bag and went and he’s not answering my calls or texts.”

“Is there anyone you can call to see if they know where he is?”

I shook my head against his chest.

“What about Alexander?”

Right.

My cousin.

He was there when it all happened.

“Do you want me to text him?”

“Since when do you have his number?” I leaned back and looked up. “What are you, best friends?”

“Best friends is somewhat of an exaggeration,” Miles replied. “But we’re relatively good friends. We exchanged numbers at the hotel after I said I liked chess.”

I blinked at him.

Did I tell him my cousin was basically a grandmaster?

No.

I’d let him find out by himself.

At least I didn’t have to play him anymore. Silver linings and all that.

“Right,” I said slowly. “Um, I guess. That’s the only place I can think he might go. Aunt Elizabeth is his sister. She’s used to dealing with him and Aunt Cat when they argue.”

“All right. Why don’t you sit down? I’ll bring you a glass of wine and text Alex. Okay?”

“Should I apologise to her?”

“Sit.” Miles released me and spun me around, then forced me to sit on his sofa. “No, you should not apologise to her yet. Let her calm down. It’s been an emotional twenty-four hours for everyone.”

“Speak for yourself. All other things aside, I just discovered my aunt has had more sex in the last month than I have in the past two years. Talk about stressful.”

Miles stilled, then a grin spread across his face. “I can help with that.”

I tried to admonish him, but the only thing that came out was a laugh. “Didn’t you just say something about wine?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let me get that, then I’ll text Alex and have a shower.” He paused and raised his eyebrows. “I don’t suppose you’ll join me?”

“If I haven’t had sex in two years, doing it standing up in a shower is just going to end up with me needing an x-ray. Also, this is me you’re talking to. I twisted my ankle in a puddle.”

“That is an excellent point. All right, then. I’ll just wander about in a towel until you can no longer resist me.”

“You think very highly of yourself, sir.”

“Someone has to.” He grinned and walked into the kitchen. He returned moments later with a glass of wine, kissed my forehead, and disappeared again.

I curled up in the corner of his sofa. It was desperately comfortable, and I would be quite happy to stay here all night. I took a sip of the wine and reached for my phone when it buzzed.

ADELAIDE: AUNT CAT SHAGGED THE BUTLER?

I really hated that turn of phrase.

It sounded so uncouth.

Shagged.

Ugh.

ME: How the hell do you know?

EVANGELINE: She showed up here asking Mum to help her.

Oh, Jesus.

ADELAIDE: She thought she was pregnant until we reminded her she’s already been through the menopause.

EVA: And when did you get a dog? You didn’t mention it.

Why was everyone obsessed with that bloody dog?

ME: Is the dog really important? Does it matter here? My house is in turmoil.

EVA: HOW WOULD YOU KNOW HUH YOU AREN’T THERE

ME: LEAVE ME OUT OF THIS

ADELAIDE: Do you have condoms this time or do you need one of us to run you a couple down?

ME: WHY DON’T YOU GO AWAY

ME: Harlots.

EVA: You’re the one in a man’s house. Did I help after all?

ME: If you think I’m giving you any credit after you pissed me off for the better part of a week with a misguided plan, you are sorely mistaken.

ADELAIDE: Muahaha. Told you so.

ME: Is Aunt Cat all right?

ADELAIDE: She’s fine. Mum’s feeding her and she’s going to stay here tonight, so you might want to have someone check the house is properly locked up.

ME: I will, thank you. Are you sure you don’t want me to come and get her?

EVA: No, she said you’re mad at her. She’s just upset. Best to let her stay for the night, I think, and get your dad home tomorrow.

ME: I agree. We’re trying to reach him now. We think he might be with Alex.

ADELAIDE: Let us know if he’s all right.

ME: I will. Thank you for looking after her… And that dog.

EVA: Alpaca.

ME: What now?

EVA: The dog. She’s called it Alpaca.

ME: Why would anyone call a dog Alpaca?

ADELAIDE: No idea, but honestly, we’re all too afraid to ask.

No kidding.

But seriously.

Alpaca?

“All right?” Miles asked, walking in.

He really was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Water dripped down his toned, tanned body, but I did have to have a slight chuckle at the tan lines on his arms.

He had a permanent t-shirt. A proper little farmer’s tan.