Page 65 of Your Pace or Mine
Darius’s head snapped up from his meal. “Jackson deserves all the accolades he gets; it isn’t just because he’s someCinderella story.”
His father set down his fork and looked straight at Darius. “If you can’t even make the team with all the advantages I’ve given you, do you really think this,” he gestured to Darius and Jamie, “being public, or your ridiculous plan with pacing the marathon and the charities and whatnot, will make things easier? Perhaps it’s simply time to consider an alternative career, one that would keep you out of the press a bit more.”
Jamie and Selena had gone silent across the table. Darius could feel everyone’s eyes on him, and he shut down again. It seemed, though, that Jamie was tired of listening to his father’s assessment of the situation.
“Your son is one of the most driven, talented athletes in the world, and he could lose out on his dream because of you, your backwards politics, and whatever you did to Eric Anders. That’s what’s shameful.”
Darius wanted to kiss him. No one other than Selena had ever stood up for him before.
“But, of course, you were there to come forward and save his image,” Darius’s father drawled. “How utterly convenient.”
Darius flushed. “I don’t know what you’re implying, Father.”
“Just that you’ve both enjoyed quite the boost in press recently, andJamiecertainly wouldn’t be the firstartistto go sniffing around for a convenient title.”
“It isn’t like that,” Jamie replied quietly. Darius attempted to shoot him an apologetic look, but Jamie was staring at his plate. “How I feel about your son has nothing to do with the money or the title or the press or any of it. He’s an amazing man, and you should be incredibly proud of him.”
His father looked taken aback. For a moment, Darius was certain he was going to verbally attack Jamie, and he was preparing to jump to his defence, when the Duke seemed to whither in on himself.
“I am,” he replied. “Of course I am.”
Darius’s eyes snapped up. An uncomfortable silence descended over them.
Though thoroughly confused and emotionally raw, Darius wolfed down the roast beef and potatoes as quickly as he could without being completely uncouth. When they left the table, he escaped Selena’s questioning glance with the excuse of giving Jamie a tour of the grounds. Had he been on his own, he would have been beating a quick retreat back to the glorious anonymity of the city, but he wanted to indulge Jamie’s curiosity. After all, this might be the only time Jamie came here—and wasn’t that a sobering thought?
Once they were out on the grounds, well out of earshot of Darius’s family, Darius leaned in to kiss Jamie, pushing all his thanks and emotions into that single kiss.
“You okay?” Jamie asked, resting his forehead against Darius’s.
Darius shrugged. “I think so.”
He honestly wasn’t sure he could put a name to how he was feeling. It was all muddled up inside him with Jamie’s passionate defence and the quiet, defeated words his father had uttered.
He led Jamie through the gardens, pointing out his grandmother’s roses and the fruit trees he’d loved as a child. The grounds had always been his favourite thing about the place. Sometimes, when he was young, he’d imagined he could run forever through them.
“It’s beautiful here. You must miss it,” Jamie said quietly.
Darius glanced at him. “I thought you’d think it was too much. You called my townhouse a mansion.”
“It is a mansion, by London standards. This… this is another level,” Jamie said. “I guess I thought you’d have more, like, African decor, though? Those corridors felt a bit like touring the National Portrait Gallery with all the dead white guys on the walls.
Darius sighed. “We were never really raised to know that side of our heritage,” he said. “My father wasn’t either, as far as I know. It’s hard to feel connected to a place you’ve only ever seen listed on your family tree.”
“Would you want to? Feel more connected?”
Darius shrugged. “It’s complicated. Lineage matters in the peerage, so it feels wrong not to acknowledge it. What I would like is to be able to connect with some of the Ethiopian runners I know from competition more, but…but I don’t know if I’d… be accepted.”
“Why?”
“Ethiopia is, well… our relationship would be illegal there,” Darius admitted. It was one more reason he felt shut out from that part of his heritage. “Plus, I just don’t know any of the social norms. As mortifying as it is, I’m most comfortable at a state banquet or Royal garden party, where I know exactly what the protocol is.”
Jamie grinned. “Ah, proper titled aristocracy stuff, Marquess Hewitt,” he said with a wink.
Darius groaned. “Please don’t.”
“You sound embarrassed. Why?”
He hesitated. “The title feels wrong when it’s out of context… it isn’t really me. It’s just something I’ve carried my whole life.”
