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But the problem with dreams coming true is that it’s hard to believe they’re real.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, whispered it against her neck, his mouth grazing her jaw… And she was lost. Had been lost for twenty-three years. Until she heard the laughter.
WHAT? LAUGH? OH NOO!
Only an idiot would have believed them. Especially knowing what Hugo was. Clearly, she was an idiot. But she already knew that. Because she had loved Hugo Blackton her whole life.
But Amelia… Amelia… The last time he saw her, she had run crying from the room. But a few moments before that… She had kissed him. She might be persuadable.
He would have to go carefully. Win her over gradually. Get her forgiveness before he raised the idea of marriage. Get her to like him again. Because Amelia wasn’t the sort of girl who would marry him for money. But she might do it for love.
“You really are an exceptionally good kisser. Who would have thought it? Little Miss Good, and an absolutely filthy tongue.”
Why would you say that? 🙄
Stupidly, she felt sudden tears prick her eyes. Because he was still laughing at her, even now, having kissed her. Even having stolen the secret of her hunger for him—had that decade-long secret amply, enthusiastically, demonstrated—she was still a joke.
He was used to Amy’s disapproval. It was a constant companion of his life. But this merciless…disdain? This contempt? That was new. He didn’t like it.
She hated Hugo. She hated herself for ever believing even for one moment that he might have meant the things he said. She hated that her whole life had been spent longing for him. And most of all she hated the fact that she couldn’t hate him enough to get over him.
The problem with liking someone for so long was that they didn’t just take up residence in one’s brain—they shaped it around themselves. Like a tree growing up around an unyielding fence, until the tree enclosed it, and the fence ran right through its heart.
“I just want to talk to you,” he said. “Come on. Tell me what I need to do. I miss you. We’ve been friends forever and now you won’t even talk to me.”
I’ll be your slave, Amy. I’m yours to use, abuse, humiliate. I’ll do anything you want. Make me pay. You are worth the price. And I know you don’t believe me, but I am sorry. I hate that I made you cry. Your humble servant, Hugo.
All in the need of money. Money change everything HAHAHHAA laban Hugo 🤪
She could expose herself to his presence, like letting sun and air reach the damp timbers of her heart, where her unhealthy obsession with him had secretly mouldered for years. She would never forgive him, or trust him. They could never really be friends again. But perhaps she could learn to be indifferent. One day Hugo might take up no more space in her mind than any other person. He would just be a man she knew. And her body wouldn’t ache for him.
“I’m going to marry her. For money.”
STOP THAT! NOOO
“I don’t actually want to get married. You know me. That’s the last thing in the world I want. I’m going to put it in a legal agreement—we get divorced as soon as possible.”
This is a very bad idea!! 🫥
“But they are like sisters to me, Hugh. And I don’t like the idea of you using Amy like this. She’s going to get hurt.”
That's why I love Roscoe more. Tapuls pa more Hugo awa ra
The house had stood, in part, since the fifteen-hundreds. And there was an expectation that it would always stand—that it must stand. Because otherwise, whatever had it all been for? All the work of all those hands for year after year after year? Because it wasn’t just her family that Amelia felt responsible for—her parents, her sister—it was everyone who had gone before. She didn’t want the house to fail on her watch. To be the one who made all the struggle and trials of generations end in nothing. It couldn’t be her. She couldn’t bear it.
Little Miss Good. Little Amy. Of all the girls in all the world, why did he have to get the horn for her? His little sister’s little friend.
“Do you know what, Amelia? I think you wouldn’t be so annoyed with me if you hadn’t kissed me quite so enthusiastically back!”
“You didn’t stop to ask. You never do. Your whole life you’ve just done and said exactly what you wanted without stopping to think about anyone else.”
“Except I find it hard to regret kissing you.”
“You were right earlier. Why am I this person? Always thinking with my other brain. Saying stupid things. I’m going to stop it. It was a good kiss, that’s all. And I can’t stop thinking about it. But I know you don’t want any more of…that sort of thing from me. So. Enough. No more innuendos. I just want to be your friend again, Amy. Can I please be that?”
“The thing about friends, Hugo, is that they need to trust each other. And I don’t know if I can ever trust you.”
And she left him in the kitchen, with his jaw still clenched, his hand hurting like damnation, and the dawning realisation that he, Hugo John Henry Croftwood Blackton, Viscount Leighton, heir to the Sixth Earl of Carnford, was jealous of a potato farmer.
“Hm. Well, I’m not. So, if it will make you leave me alone, I’ll tell you the truth. And the truth is… I really, really want to sleep with Amy. That’s it. That’s the story. I want to sleep with her and I can’t seem to stay away because I’m like a dog with a really fucking persistent bone. OK?”
“Why do you care so much? About getting me to forgive you?” “Because I miss you.”
“I’ve already said it, but you don’t believe me. I am sorry, Amy. I am so sorry. And I even almost regret kissing you, because then I wouldn’t be tortured by knowing what it’s like. But maybe I’m not as sorry as I should be, because on some level, I think you wanted me to kiss you. And I think you still want that. Don’t you?”
“Amy…” He brushed his thumb along her lip, and she was helpless, weak… “Trust me. I want this. I want you.”
And he drew her to him like that—with his thumb hooking her jaw, as though she was a fish on the line. And he didn’t kiss her gently. There was too much heat for that. He had already opened her to him with his thumb, and now he moved his hand, found her tongue with his, and growled as he stepped closer, one hand on the back of her head, pulling her hard against him.
It would destroy her. It would destroy what was left of their friendship if she thought he was playing her. And that would destroy him.
He had kissed her after they had sex again, and for a moment, he had looked down at her, and he had seemed so incredibly serious… For a moment, she’d had the strangest feeling that she was seeing him for the first time. The real him.
“Well. You’re an idiot. But make sure he keeps it wrapped, because you never know where he’s been sticking it. And make sure you keep your heart in a box.”
“But I don’t want her to hate me! And I don’t want her to marry me for the money. I want her to want to marry me.” He heard the echo of his words. “Oh, shit. What does that mean?”
“It means either you’re a narcissistic prick who needs everyone to like them. Or…you’re in love with her. Which one is it, Hugh?”
Did that mean she wanted him to stay around? Did that mean she was considering this thing between them in the light of a possible relationship…? Because he was.
But the idea of a relationship with Amy wasn’t terrifying. Which is what was scary. He wanted Amy. He wanted to be with Amy. All the time. Every day. Every minute.
He cared. He was in love. His happiness no longer belonged to himself. It belonged to someone better than him. Someone who could take his happiness and double it, quadruple it, make it something bigger and brighter than he had ever conceived. And that was as terrifying as it was wonderful.
He frowned. “Last? Never. I want to kiss you always and forever.” And when he bent his head to hers, it didn’t feel like he was joking at all.
“It’s different,” he said, “because I wasn’t in love with any of them. And I’m in love with you.”
“You can’t love me,” she said incredulously when she had got her breath back. “You’re Hugo Blackton. You don’t go around…falling in love with people.” “No. Only with you.”
“Only you,” he said, stepping closer and taking hold of her hands. “I’ve only ever fallen in love with you. And I only ever want to be in love with you. Always you.”
“This is me trusting you. And I know you’ve been waiting to hear it. I do love you, Hugh. I’ve never been able to do anything else.”
“I love you enough to want you to choose you, not me. I’m basically a saint. Although…I might have to pop over to wherever you are for a day or two. I might die otherwise. There’s a limit to my asceticism.”
“I know. I know it’s hard. But trust me, please? I love you. I love you so much. And I will marry you for real today, tomorrow, whenever you want. Or I will marry you temporarily just so you can get this money, if that’s what you want. You decide, Amy. But even if we get divorced the next day, I will wait a year, or however long I can bear it, and then I will ask you again. Because you’re the one, the only one.”
“Whenever I’ve been away from here and I think of home…it’s your face that I see. Scowling at me normally, true. But it’s you. Little A. Amy. For years and years, I hardly knew it, but you have meant home to me.”
Hugo I must be a coward, because I can’t face the thought of seeing you to say this in person. Maybe one day I will be angry enough to feel strong, but for now I am only destroyed. And weak, and stupid, as you’ve known all along I must be. Because I did believe your lies. You won, I suppose. If that’s what the game was: my heart. I gave it to you, and you broke it. I don’t even care what you do with the pieces—pin them to your wall as a trophy if you want. I don’t want them back. I don’t want anything you’ve ever touched. I don’t know why you did it. Was money really enough of a reason? But I
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😭😭😭😭
“You can’t love someone you don’t respect. And you can’t respect me if you lie to me. I deserve better than that. For once in my life, I’m going to stick up for what I want. Just like you told me to. And what I want is someone better than you.”
“That’s the problem. You always do just say anything. You’ll do anything to get what you want. For once in your life, forget about what you want, and give someone else what they want. And what I want is for you to go away and leave me alone.”
Little Miss Good would never be stupid enough to fall for an idiot like my brother, right? But maybe consider that Hugo lied about the lawyers because he didn’t want you to think less of him. Maybe he lied out of fear, because he couldn’t bear the thought of you retreating back behind those lines.
