Darcy

I watched for a few minutes to see if Logan would spot me. I’d been running from one set of people to another all afternoon, and every time I decided to seek Logan out, pull him behind the stables for a kiss, someone else decided they needed to tell me what a wonderful party it was and how they were sorry my grandfather wasn’t here to see it.

“Excuse me, will you?” I said to Freida, who I’d been talking to about the caterers. “I’ve just spotted someone I must go and thank before the crowd swallows them up and they think I’m untenably rude.”

“Of course, my dear.” She patted my hand and headed back toward the other ladies of the Woolton W.I.

I tried to bite back a grin as I headed toward Logan. I rarely had the chance to see him like this from a distance, so handsome in his light-gray suit—even if he wasn’t wearing a tie—so tall and commanding.

“Darcy.” A tipsy Mrs. Lonsdale grabbed my hand. “What a wonderful party. I’m so pleased the weather held for you.”

I smiled but didn’t stop. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Lonsdale. I’ll catch up with you later. I must check something.”

She waved me off. “Yes, yes. A hostess’s job is never done.”

I kept my gaze fixed on Logan, determined to avoid anyone else’s eye. As if he sensed me, he looked up. I couldn’t hold back my grin any longer, but he didn’t smile in return.

If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought apprehension crossed his face.

Or perhaps he was reacting to something his grandmother had just said. Or maybe something had happened at work this week. We’d spoken less than usual because I’d been so wrapped up in the party preparations.

“Hello.” I bent to kiss Mrs. Steele on both cheeks and Logan rose from his seat and greeted me stiffly in the same way. His hands didn’t linger over me like they normally did, his eyes didn’t lock with mine in the way I was used to.

“I hope you’re enjoying the match.” I glanced at Ryder, Scarlett, Violet and Alexander on the croquet field.

“Take a seat and I’ll go and fetch some drinks,” Logan said, glancing over at the nearest drinks station as if he couldn’t wait to escape.

“I’ll come with you to help,” I offered.

“No, stay and enjoy yourself. I’m sure you’ve been running around all day.” Why wouldn’t he want a few minutes with me, even if it was while we got drinks?

Confused, I took a seat and watched as Logan started in the direction of the Pimm’s.

“How are you my dear?” Mrs. Steele asked. “Are you managing to enjoy your day at all?”

Still staring at Logan’s suit covered back, I replied, “Yes, of course, but would you excuse me one second? I want to ask Logan to get me a soft drink. I’ve got such a lot still to do today.”

I jumped up and weaved my way through the clusters of people until I reached him. “Hey,” I said, grasping his arm.

“Hi,” he replied as he came to a standstill. “I was just getting some drinks.”

“Are you okay?”

He frowned at me. “Yes. Shouldn’t I be?”

I scanned his face for clues, trying to figure out if I was just making up things in my head. “You seem a little…” I shrugged. “I don’t know. A little off.”

“I’m just getting drinks, Darcy.”

“Okay. Well, can you stay tonight?” I pushed him. We’d made no plans for him to stay, and for whatever reason, he’d never stayed when Ryder and Scarlett were over.

“You enjoy your time with Ryder and Scarlett. I’ll see you when they leave.” He was colder than I’d ever known him. Even for a public setting, he was distant.

“Logan?” I asked, needing some kind of reassurance from him.

“What do you want to drink? Pimm’s?”

“I don’t want anything to drink. I want you to drag me around the back of the stables and kiss me into next week. I want you to look at me like you normally do. I don’t understand what’s up with you.”

He forced a smile which did the opposite of reassure me. “We’ll talk when the weekend is over,” he said. “Ryder and Scarlett leave Monday morning, right?”

“If you’ve got something to say, I want to hear it.”

He glanced over my head. “I don’t have anything to say specifically—it’s just a busy weekend, and you have houseguests.” He would normally place his hand at the small of my back, but he didn’t. He just started to walk. “Now, let’s get you a drink.”

“I just want lemonade or something,” I mumbled under my breath.

“You’re not drinking?” he asked.

“I have too much to do.”

“Right,” he said, and we joined the queue.

Once, not so long ago, Logan Steele had told me he never lied, but now I knew that wasn’t true. This wasn’t just a busy weekend. It wasn’t that I had houseguests. He had something to say, but he was going to make me wait.

My head said that he could be stressed at work or worried about a million things but in my heart, I knew it was about me. It was about us. Maybe he was bored, or he’d gotten what he wanted from me and now was moving on. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good news.