Chapter 20

The car service dropped Drake off at 3:00 AM. Barely conscious, he stumbled to bed fully dressed and woke with a knot in his stomach. “Thalia,” he mumbled through the hangover haze, “grab my meds?” Silence met him like a wall. “Thalia? Thalia—” Reality crashed in as his eyes snapped open. Right. She’d moved out. The emptiness in his chest felt worse than the nausea.

After searching every cabinet in vain, he called Rosa, his housekeeper. She answered, groggy but professional. “The meds, where are they?” Rosa, looking at her phone—4:00 AM—counted to ten. These trust-fund kids, she thought, would be the death of her. “First-aid kit, Miss Winters’ room, top drawer,” she managed evenly.

He found the kit, but a pharmacy's worth of medications stared back at him. Thalia had always known exactly which ones he needed. He scanned labels, swallowed something that seemed right, and hoped for the best. The pills knocked him out until past noon.

“Rosa,” he called upon waking. “Can you make that stomach remedy?”

She paused. “Miss Winters’ special recipe?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

His face darkened. “Why not?”

“It needs overnight preparation—special herbs, specific ingredients, and fresh components. I can’t start it now.” She added carefully, “I know what goes in it, but not how she actually made it.”

His jaw tightened. “Regular soup then?”

“That I can handle.”

He leaned back, rubbing his temples, when a knock made him straighten. Had she come back? “Come in.”

Sienna appeared in the doorway. The disappointment on his face was evident; her smile faltered. “Oh… it’s me?” She caught his expression, her nails digging into her palms. She knew exactly who he’d hoped to see. Still, she plastered on a smile. “Rosa said you weren’t feeling great. Better now?”

“Fine,” he muttered.

She settled beside him, pulling up her phone. “Look what I found—the perfect Montana itinerary. We should road trip it, maybe get a driver since the distances are crazy. After Glacier, we could—” Her voice suddenly grated on his nerves. His head pounded, and her constant chatter wasn’t helping.

Thalia would have known exactly what he needed—her miracle soup, her quiet presence. “Enough,” he snapped. “Later. Not now.”

Sienna’s phone lowered slowly. “Am I… bothering you?” The hurt in her voice was carefully controlled.

Drake sighed, guilt winning. “Just the headache. We’ll plan later, okay?”

“Of course.” She curled against him, the picture of understanding.

Meanwhile, at an old-world gentlemen’s club in Mayfair…

A group of young aristocrats were gathered around a bridge table. James caught sight of Asher’s wrist. “I say, rather a smart timepiece you’ve got there.”

Asher played his hand, grinning. “Rather lovely, isn’t it? A gift from Lia.”

“My word, the privileges of being engaged,” Sebastian teased. “One does envy you, old chap.”

James’s expression turned thoughtful. “Though I must say—I’m rather curious about the Winters connection. Not quite the match one might have expected, what?”

Though they all moved in the same elevated circles, the old hierarchies remained firmly in place. The Blackwoods stood at the pinnacle of British society, their influence in Parliament stretching back generations. Asher, as heir to the family name, would typically have been expected to marry into another family of similar standing.

Asher’s smile softened. “Not an arranged match, as it happens.”

“Good Lord,” Sebastian was genuinely shocked. “What are you saying?”

“Three years ago, I approached Randolph myself,” Asher explained. “The moment Lia finished university, I paid him a visit. I told him he could name any terms he liked; I’d agree to anything, provided I could marry Lia.” His eyes brightened. “After all this time, it’s finally coming together.”

“You mean to say you’ve been carrying a torch for her all these years?” Sebastian let out a low whistle. “Frightfully secretive of you, old boy. Known you since our Eton days and never had the faintest idea.”

James chuckled. “We’d all rather assumed you were married to your parliamentary duties. Turns out you were simply pining away in silence.”

“When did all this start then?” Sebastian pressed, intrigued by this revelation. “Must have been ages ago.”

Asher studied his cards with exaggerated attention, a slight smile playing on his lips. “A gentleman doesn’t discuss such matters.”

“Playing it close to the chest, are we?” Sebastian’s smile turned knowing. “Though I seem to recall she rather dramatically fled the country to avoid marriage altogether. Perhaps this gift is mere politeness. I wouldn’t get too carried away just yet.”

James glanced up with calculated casualness. “On that note—I heard something rather interesting. Did you know she’s been rather involved with someone in New York?”