Disclosure of the Heart (The Heart Series) (31 page)

“Of all people.”

“Exactly. And listen to this. The
Daily Mirror
called Kent about the photo while he was still speaking with me.”

“No. So what did Kent say?”

“He put them on hold while we talked. He asked what the White House response was going to be and said the BBC would make a similar statement.” Adam then read aloud from his reporter’s notebook. “‘Adam Kincaid resigned from the BBC last Monday. We look forward to employing him again if the opportunity arises. The BBC will permanently fill its White House correspondent position shortly. Our condolences go out to Adam and his family as they mourn the loss of the former Viscount Kincaid.’”

“I like how they don’t mention me at all.”

“I agree. It’s better for them as well.”

“You don’t think the tabloids will try to find us in Scotland?”

“They might, but Kent said when he gets calls from the tabs, he’ll advise them it would appear unseemly to stalk us.”

“We’ll see if they heed his advice,” I said with a laugh. I pressed my hands to my cheeks. “Oh, Adam. What a mess.”

“We’ll get through it,” he said, taking me in his arms. “If it means we get to be together, it’s more than worth it.”

I kissed his cheek. “More than worth it.”

As we spent the next few hours traveling by car, plane, and then car again to the Kincaid home in Scotland, the tabloid media was at work. Adam’s phone rang so much that he turned it off, and I ignored all calls unless it was Matt.

Sylvia kept looking at us with concern. “Shouldn’t you say something?”

“Absolutely not.” I shook my head emphatically. “Don’t give in to them. No one in the general public will expect him to return a reporter’s call when he’s burying his father.”

“It’s true.” Adam laughed. “I always knew revealing our relationship would be controversial, but Dad’s death is giving it an air of dignity that it wouldn’t otherwise receive.”

As we drove up the long road to the estate, I felt like I’d either been sent back in time or was on the set of an eighteenth-century costume drama. The ancient-looking buildings were partially covered in vines and set back into a wooded area.

“That’s your family house?” I asked.

He looked up briefly from the book he was reading. “That’s it. Since the fourteenth century.”

Sylvia sniffed the air. “I hate it. Everything smells like wet rock—even in the family quarters, even if it hasn’t rained for a month.” She looked at the car behind us, which David was driving with Mrs. Kincaid and David’s mother. “Poor David. I bet he’s having to listen to them gush about it. He hates it, too. He says being here makes him feel like a serf.”

“I can see why,” I said, gaping at the property. “I’m feeling very inferior myself.”

“Ridiculous.” Adam gave me a nudge. “It’s not like we earned this place or the title. There’s no merit involved.”

“That’s very egalitarian of you,
Viscount
Kincaid.” I giggled.

“I won’t be using the title, and you know it,” he said with another nudge and a kiss.

When we got out of the cars, everyone stretched their legs from the long hours of travel. I admired the idyllic scene of rolling countryside, which seemed to go on for miles. “It’s hard to believe that you own this.”

“Well, we don’t really anymore.” He winked. “The nation is kind enough to let us squat.”

I looked at the pond off the side of the chapel and then out onto the forest in the distance. “It’s a stunning place to squat.”

He pulled me to him and whispered in my ear, “Maybe we could live here for a bit. Raise some wee ones with thick Scottish accents that neither of us understand.”

My cheeks flamed. Naturally, I’d thought about where things between Adam and me would lead. If we lived together and that worked out, we might get married, and if we got married, we’d definitely have kids. Since he’d mentioned marriage once before, I knew it wasn’t a remote thought in his mind. And though it had overwhelmed me the first time, to hear him hint at it again now tickled me to death.

He grinned. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

“Do I get to see you in a kilt?” I asked in a deflection.

“Naturally,” he said, tousling my hair.

Just as we’d predicted, the tabloids wrote their stories that day. I kept up with Matthew, who confirmed they’d received multiple inquiries about the photograph. He said the White House stuck with its script and ended the calls quickly. The following morning, we checked all the tabloids online. The Cambridge photographer had likely made a mint because he’d sold all the photographs to the
Daily Mirror
—and had evidently captured us doing more than hugging.

David looked over Adam’s shoulder at his laptop and whistled. “That’s quite a lip-lock you two have in that picture.”

“I think it looks sweet,” said Sylvia.

“
Sweet?”
David snickered and said beneath his breath, “Maybe sweet in an ‘I’m gonna fuck your brains out later’ kind of way.”

I flashed him a look that said I didn’t think it was very funny. “I’m never going to hear the end of it from Matthew.”

“If all you’re worried about is being made fun of by your boss, I think we’re okay,” Adam said as he reached for my hand.

“Thankfully, there’s not much to their story. It’s pretty thin,” I said with a nod. “If the coverage continues this way, I think you’re right.”

After we attended church that morning, the local vicar followed us to the family crypt to inter Professor Kincaid’s ashes. As we walked back to the house, Adam said to me, “It’s odd that I was more emotional Friday at the memorial service than today.”

“Well, that’s because he’s still alive in a way when we talk about him. There’s not much sense of him as a person in a spooky crypt.”

We’d been holding hands, then he let go and grabbed my waist. “I wouldn’t be getting through this without you.”

“Oh yeah, you would.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Well, if that’s true, I’m glad to help you because you helped me so much,” I said, my voice cracking. “I love you.”

He grinned and lifted my chin to kiss me. Just as his lips were about to meet mine, we heard David call from behind, “That’ll be the last one of those for a while. I need to get Ms. Johnson to her chariot.”

Then he sped past us, but not before hitting Adam’s arm. “Don’t worry, cuz. I’m a pro at taking care of her.”

“Hey!” I laughed. “That was a long time ago.”

Adam growled, “You’re a dead man.”

David didn’t even look behind him as he walked ahead. “No worries. I’ll safely deposit her, untouched, at my bird’s door.”

“
Bird?”
I shook my head. “Lisa would not like to know she’s been referred to as an animal.”

“It really is a term of endearment,” Adam said. “I promise.”

“Yeah? I can’t wait to hear David explain that one to her.”

As soon as we landed at Dulles Airport, I called Adam.

“I’m glad to hear you arrived in one piece,” he said. “How was the flight?”

“Fine…great, actually. David kindly upgraded me to first class.”

“The man who thinks himself a serf…”

“Yes, I have to say that for someone who portrays himself as this guy from the wrong side of the tracks, he certainly enjoys a lavish lifestyle.”

“He does. He should be the viscount.”

“So what’s up? Are there more stories? I haven’t called Matt yet.”

“Everything else has been regurgitated from the tabloid piece, except for that complete arsehole, Dan Roark. He wrote a few sentences on his blog about us.”

“He did not!”

“Yes, he did. It just proves I was right about him all along.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s a twat, that’s why, and unfortunately, he had a little help from Felicity.”

“Oh no.”
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned
. I should’ve known something like that would happen. “Read it to me, please.”

“All right.” His proper British accent then changed to a hammed-up American one. It was always funny to hear Adam’s interpretation of Americans, and his take on those he hated was the best. He began by clearing his throat. “‘There’s lots of gossip among the White House Press Corps. I don’t know if anything inappropriate happened between Nicole Johnson and Adam Kincaid while he was at the BBC. I do know they used to talk a fair amount while at work. I never saw anything out of the ordinary, but some people said they believed things started between them at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner.

“‘Then they were seen dancing together rather closely last Saturday night when the president was traveling in Istanbul. It was at a restaurant with many people around, including other members of the press. Kincaid resigned on Monday, and now there are photos of them together. Word on the street is that they knew each other in high school and never got over one another. We’ll see what pans out this week.’”

“Asshole,” I said bitterly. “How do you know Felicity was involved?”

“The part about never getting over you. She accused me of that when I first started seeing you outside of work.”

“I love how he walks a line of not being too accusatory of me. Maybe it’s because I did those shots with him.”

“Maybe, but I bet it’s more that he doesn’t want to poison his relationship with the White House in case you stick around.”

“His blog is just crap, but unfortunately someone will read it. I’ll call Matt to see what he says. Tomorrow is going to suck.”

“I know. I’m very sorry about that. Here you thought I was going to be the sacrificial lamb for our relationship, but you’re the one who will take the public beating.”

“Yes, I will,” I said with a gulp. Then I smiled. “But I’ll take it if I get to finally be with you.”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear.”

As I shared a Washington Flyer cab back to DC with David, I called Matt. He was still grumbling about the situation. “You’ve created quite a mess for us to clean up, haven’t you?”

“I suppose so. I can’t apologize enough.” I once again could feel my stomach get queasy with fear. It was only appropriate for me to make my previous offer. “Do you want me to resign? I will.”