Christmas at Rosewood. Sophie PembrokeЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘I’d better go get the drinks.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, wondering if that curiosity was a good thing or a bad thing. I was sure I’d find out before Boxing Day, either way.
He sloped off past the group clustered around the drinks cabinet, and disappeared out of a second door, into another hallway. I had no idea where it led, having missed the guided tour earlier, but Aiden obviously did. I hadn’t been kidding when I said he seemed at home at Rosewood.
Which made me wonder again: why had he been hiding out at Rosewood for six months?
His words from earlier that day came back to me – about how Rosewood was a place of secrets. What secrets – or truths – was he hiding from? And why did I care, after all this time?
The last I couldn’t answer. Except to say that I did.
‘Where did Aiden go?’ Saskia looked around me as if I might be hiding him somewhere, then gestured to the cocktail glass in her hand. ‘I have his Mistletoe Mojito here.’
‘I think he went to find me something less… festive to drink. Sorry.’
Saskia’s expression slipped into an easy smile. ‘Totally understood. Although, actually, the Santas on the Beach aren’t too bad. As long as you ignore the rather disturbing connotation.’
I winced. ‘I’d been trying hard to do that, thanks.’
Saskia eyed me, and I waited for the inevitable question, already formulating my answer in my mind. ‘So, you and Aiden knew each other at uni?’
I shrugged casually. ‘We met in my last year.’ We spent two glorious weeks together. ‘We were both stuck there alone over Christmas, so Edward suggested he look me up.’
‘And?’ Saskia asked. ‘What, you spent Christmas with him then never saw him again?’ That was a leading question if ever I’d heard one. I studied Saskia a little closer, looking for a sign that Aiden had told her about our fling, but her expression was open and guileless.
I hedged my bets. ‘Basically.’ Even if she knew, I really didn’t want to talk about it in a room full of our combined families.
Saskia frowned. ‘Why? I mean, Aiden’s a nice guy, and a good friend to have. You didn’t stay in touch, even though you were both at the same university? Didn’t you both even study the same subject?’
‘He was my little brother’s friend. I was working on my dissertation, spending time with my boyfriend. He, I imagine, was out seducing freshers. We really didn’t have very much in common.’
It was true, as far as it went. It just wasn’t the whole story.
‘I suppose,’ Saskia said, but she still sounded doubtful. ‘Still, it’s been lovely having him stay here. Caro adores him, of course, and so does Therese, come to that. We kind of needed a breath of fresh air here, lately. But…’ she trailed off, and I frowned. What was I missing here?
‘But?’ I prompted.
‘I think… and so does Edward, actually, that it’s time for Aiden to move on. Not because we don’t want him here, but because… well, honestly, I think he’s hiding here.’
Hiding from what? I wanted to ask. But instead, I said, ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because Rosewood is a great place to hide from your troubles, and I’m not saying we haven’t all taken refuge here from time to time. But Aiden has too much else to be doing to wallow too long.’
Which didn’t answer the question I was asking at all. ‘No, I meant, why are you telling me?’ Because if she knew our history, she had to know I was the last person he’d talk to about his feelings, right? Unless she knew something I didn’t.
Saskia gave me a small half-smile. ‘Because I saw the way he looked at you when you walked in this morning. And I know that look. If anyone could tempt him out of hiding, I think it might be you.’
And with that, she handed me Aiden’s Mistletoe Mojito and left, crossing the room to where Edward and Ellie were chatting. Leaving me wondering exactly what Aiden had been saying about me since he arrived at Rosewood – or if he’d said anything at all. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe our secret was still a secret after all.
I observed Saskia and Edward from across the room, watching as she joined the conversation easily, wrapping an arm around my brother’s waist and resting her head against his shoulder.
Something inside my heart twinged. I missed that easy connection with another person. I hadn’t felt it with Darren in years. In fact, I could barely remember having it with him at all. But part of me couldn’t help but remember another time I’d experienced it. That feeling of just needing to touch another person, the way someone’s arm around my shoulders felt natural and right, and his hand in mine… just the way things were meant to be.
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