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Maybe it had something to do with what he’d been doing in the library. Looking for a book? But of what?

I could figure out a way to subtly ask my sister or Cecily, but after the little library excursion, I just wanted to go to my room, shut the door, and hide out in there as long as I could.

Peeling off Cecily’s dress, I folded it neatly and left a note for one of the maids who would come and take it in the middle of the night, like they seemed to do with all of my clothes. Even my dress from earlier in the day was already laundered, smelling of fresh lilacs, and hung up in the wardrobe across from the huge four-post bed.

The one I was currently alone in.

There wasn’t a TV in the bedroom, and I hadn’t seen one in the sitting room. Even if there was, I wasn’t going to go out there and see if Jacob had come back.

Nope.

Like the coward I was, I would hide out for as long as I possibly could.

Pulling my phone off the nightstand, I absently scrolled through social media. I saw so many friends from college or high school with drama-filled posts that I instantly forgot about as soon as I went onto the next meme. What was the point of social media? And why did I stay on so many sites when I rarely interacted with anyone? Although it was a great way to get info on others.

Hmm.

I typed in a name in the search bar.

Lachlan Jacob MacWebley the Third.

There wasn’t much on the guy; hell, he didn’t even have a single social media account. Not even LinkedIn. But another Lachlan MacWebley popped up. The black and white photo of an older gentleman with a dimpled smile that I’d recognize anywhere.

Clicking on the article, I read over the headline.

The End of the MacWebleys?

What the hell?

So I sat up and read on.

The surname MacWebley used to be associated amongst the top clans and nobility of Scotland. At least that was the case over one hundred years ago, before ancestor Laird Lachlan MacWebley split from his wife Mairi, giving her Webley Manor in England.

But that was only the beginning.

What once was a family with one of the largest manors this side of Loch Ness now has seen their historic home fall in ruins as the last remaining members sell off their own historic valuables just to stay afloat.

When asked for a comment on the familial situation and the state of the great-grandson of the original Lachlan and his health, the family declined, saying it was a private matter.

I leaned back against the fluffy pillows.

Holy. Shit.

I knew there was more to Jacob’s story, but I didn’t think it had to do with his family being broke. Was that the real reason he was here? Would he ask for a loan from the English family? Should I ask him?

Shaking my head, I let out a breath. He would ask how I knew, and then I’d have to admit searching him online.

This kinda explained why he hadn’t looked at me with pity when I’d told him about my mom and our bills or my breakup. Because he understood it.

I groaned, putting a pillow over my face.

That just made the guy that much more appealing, knowing that he wasn’t just some spoiled nobleman.

Maybe I could talk to my sister about all of this.

Or maybe she already knew?

The thoughts kept roaming my head all night. I tossed and turned, barely able to get any sleep as I debated on what to do, until the morning light streamed in through the windows and I couldn’t stay in bed any longer.

Which meant I’d eventually have to face Jacob with the new information I had.

But first I had to get ready.

So what if I spent an extra-long time in the shower then did my hair and makeup with precision before I got on my riding outfit? Also, not my fault he was already out of the room when I headed out toward my sister’s sitting room area.

The doors were open, and if I thought Cecily was a goddess in a dress before, she looked even more like she just walked out of a magazine in her tight khaki pants, tall brown riding boots without a speck of dust on them, and tailored black jacket. We might have been wearing similar outfits, but there was no way I filled out mine like she did with her curves.

“Madison, so glad you’re joining us,” she exclaimed in that posh accent.

My sister stood from the sofa where she was sipping from a porcelain cup. Her outfit was similar to ours, but since she got the hourglass frame, hers was more like that of a 1950’s pinup going for a little jaunt.

Damn, why did I have to get the stick figure?

And yet when Jacob looked at me…felt me…it wasn’t as if he saw me that way. But as something way more.

Stop. Thinking. About him.

“About time you got here. I was starting to get worried after I saw Jacob head to use the bathroom in the white room,” Natalie said, standing and giving me a knowing smirk as she set her cup down.

“Guess I’m just not used to having all the time I need in the bathroom,” I said, shrugging and keeping my head down so she couldn’t read my face.

“Give your little sister a break,” Cecily said, tossing out her hand before looping her arm through mine.

“Since when did you two become best friends? Or is this more of a co-conspirator thing?” Natalie asked.

“A little bit of both, since I’m sure that today I’ll be able to get the dirt from my new best friend about my long-lost cousin,” Cecily said, giving my arm a slight squeeze.

I bit my lip to hold back my gasp of surprise.

What would I say to her?

Should I share the article I’d discovered about the MacWebleys?

No, that would be bad.

So I’d tell her that we made out hardcore

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