24. “Lights” - Ellie Goulding
“Lights” - Ellie Goulding
After saving the Christmas tree from what surely would have been fatal destruction, I finally decide to do something about Tundra’s mounting. William answers on the second ring, his voice as gruff as ever.
“William,” I say. “I’m calling about Tundra.”
He grunts, and I wonder if rough monosyllables have always been his response of choice, or if that’s what being monarch does to a person. “What about him? Is he okay?”
I chuckle as I pull Tundra away from the shelf of antique globes.
“Oh yes, he’s quite well.” A little too well, maybe.
I’m in the penthouse library because it’s reminds me the most of home.
Unfortunately, this leaves little room for Tundra to roam and all too many breakable objects within his reach.
I finally get him to sit beside me. “You did say he was neutered, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” the duke harrumphs. “A few years ago.”
Tundra looks up at me, mouth open, like he’s expecting a prize for being such a good boy. “That’s strange. Any chance they didn’t do it right?”
William snorts. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s just that he’s mounting everything, and it’s really starting to become a problem.”
His laughter rolls through the phone so loudly I have to pull it away from my ear. “That’s normal.”
“Normal? How is it normal? I thought they took away his ability to . . .”
He laughs again, and it’s really starting to annoy me. “He doesn’t have the ability to perform, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try.”
“You’re saying there’s nothing I can do about it?”
I feel his shrug through the phone. “Train him not to.”
I move to the small Christmas tree in the corner when Tundra appears on the verge of testing his performing abilities on it. “And how exactly do I do that?”
“Same way you taught him other things.”
I’m quiet for a few beats. The truth is I haven’t taught Tundra much of anything. He was already trained when I got him, and I’m planning to hire a handler once I get the royal household back in running order. “Okay,” I say finally. “Thank you, William.”
Ending the call, I sink back into the sofa. “Great,” I mutter. “One more thing to do.”
I jump up again when the library door bursts open. It doesn’t exactly slam against the wall, but only because Henry’s hand is still clamped around the knob. A look of irritation is etched onto his face, but I expect no less these days.
“Please tell me that was a friend or family member named William and not who I think it was.” He closes the door behind him.
“Family member,” I say.
He narrows his eyes. “You don’t have a relative named William.”
“Ah,” I say, and hold up a finger, “but I do. My ex-father-in-law.”
A vein in Henry’s jaw pops, and his nostrils flare as he inhales. “I thought I told you to stay away from him.”
“Relax. We were only talking about Tundra, not taking over Russia.”
I realize my mistake the moment his eyes narrow. “Why were you calling my father about your dog?”
I have no idea how much of our conversation Henry overheard, but I decide to take the chance that he only caught the tail end of it. “He’s an experienced dog owner. I thought he might know how to get him to stop humping everything.”
Henry crosses his arms and leans back against the fireplace. “I don’t buy it.”
I return his glare with one of my own. “You’re right. We’re actually secret lovers.”
“I’d laugh if I wasn’t too busy vomiting,” he growls. “I’ll find out eventually, so just tell me.”
I hate that he’s right. Somehow, he always manages to sniff out everything. “Tundra was a gift. From your father.” May as well throw the truth in his face.
The only indication Henry registers my words is the twitch in his right eye.
Apart from that, he could be watching the weather report.
He turns and grabs the fireplace poker, jabbing at the logs smoldering in the grate.
Sparks fly up, and the blaze slowly grows larger.
He spins around so quickly that Tundra lets out a startled yip.
“Why the hell did my father give you a dog?”
I cross my legs and settle further into the sofa. I could watch those back muscles ripple all day long. “How should I know?”
“Because you’ve never accepted a single thing in your life without tearing it apart looking for the reason behind it.”
“Maybe I’m full of surprises.”
“Maybe you’re full of shit.”
If I could turn my look into a sound, it would be a snarl. “It was a gift of gratitude. I was with him when Argos died.”
“My father wouldn’t know gratitude if it bit him in the ass.” Henry pulls his phone from his pocket. “Roberts, I’m going to need a tech team in the library ASAP.”
Seconds later, the door opens and several security personnel file into the room. Roberts is at the front of the group. “Sir?” he says, looking at Henry.
Henry motions to Tundra, who thinks I’m unaware of the ornaments he’s trying to swipe from the tree. “I want a full sweep, X-ray, and medical examination.”
I stand up. “What is going on?”
“Yes, sir.” Roberts takes ahold of the dog’s collar and begins leading him from the room.
“Leave him here,” I yell, attempting to follow, but Henry’s arms wrap around me from behind. “Tundra,” I scream. “Tundra!”
“Let them go, C. He’ll be back.”
I try to pry his arms from my chest, but it’s useless. He doesn’t let go until Tundra has disappeared through the door. I swivel on him and smack him across the cheek.
“You told them to take my dog!”
Henry rubs at his face. “It’s temporary. Provided they don’t find anything life-threatening.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If my father gave you that dog, you know there was a damn good reason for it.”
“And you think that reason was what—to blow me sky-high with TNT?”
“I’m not willing to rule it out.”
“How do I know you’re not the one behind everything?” I say. “Maybe you’re locking me in here so you can find the perfect opportunity to do me in.”
Henry rolls his eyes and turns his attention to his phone. “If I wanted you dead, I could’ve killed you a million times already.”
“You’re suspecting your own father.”
“I have to suspect everyone. It’s part of my job.”
“I thought your job was sitting in a cushy office and buying businesses,” I counter.
“It was until your car lost a tire.”
I stare at him. “Tell me that’s not why you came back.”
He puts the phone in his pocket. “Okay. That’s not why I came back.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
Shrugging, he walks to the bar cart in the corner. “Suit yourself.” He pours a glass of wine and one of whiskey.
“I have a security team,” I say. “I don’t need you.”
“Tough luck. You got me anyway.” He holds out the wine.
I shake my head. “One of these days, I will find a way to get rid of you.”
“Well, until then, darling, you’re stuck with me. And let’s get one thing straight. You are not to see or talk to my father again. Not under any circumstance. Got it?” His whiskey disappears in one long gulp.
“No, I don’t ‘got it.’” I cross my arms over my chest but am under no illusion that I appear intimidating. It’s simply a defense mechanism at this point.
“Celia, for god’s sake.” Henry sets both glasses down on the bar.
“Have you ever noticed how our entire relationship consists of you telling me what to do?”
“No, it consists of me saving your ass because you refuse to listen.”
“Because everything you want me to do is ridiculous,” I say. “And also, you could try asking occasionally, instead of barking orders like a drill sergeant.”
“Fine. Will you please stay away from my father?”
“No. Not without a good reason.”
The growl that leaves Henry’s throat is low and threatening, and also undeniably sexy. “I told you, he might be dangerous. Why can’t you just trust me?”
I level him with a lethal glare. “I told you. I’ll never trust you again.”
I cannot believe they took my dog. William may not be a peach, and he did some pretty awful things to Henry, but to suspect him of trying to harm Tundra? This has gone too far.
I pace the library, both to release some of the anger I feel and to come up with a plan. If I could get Henry and William to talk through their issues, I think they could be reconciled. The problem is how to get them in the same room.
The plan comes out of the blue.
An hour later, I have my laptop set up in the library, and I accept William’s video call. “Thanks for agreeing to this,” I say as his face comes into focus on my screen. He’s sitting in a desk chair, looking as grumpy as ever.
“Show me what he’s doing,” he says.
“Tundra isn’t in here right now,” I say. “Let me just ask someone to bring him.”
I pull out my phone and text Henry.
Can you come to the library? I need help with something.
Hopefully they don’t both murder me for this.
“While we’re waiting, I was wondering if you know why Henry is so angry at you.”
The duke’s look is so cold, I’m sure he’s going to hang up on me, but finally he says, “I wasn’t a good father.”
The admission is so stark, it takes me by surprise. “Have you ever apologized to him?”
He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t make a difference.”
“It might make one for you. Hanging on to guilt and bitterness will only make you miserable.”
“My father was a terrible man,” he says.
“I know that doesn’t excuse anything, but I didn’t know how to be a good person.
He did things to me—” His voice breaks, and I sincerely hope he’s not about to confess everything from his sordid past. “He did horrible things, and I did horrible things to my son.”
Flashbacks of what Henry told me play across my mind. This man is a monster. But even the worst monster can change, can’t he?
“You might be surprised at how much better you’d both feel if you talk to him,” I say.
William laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Henry would rather kill himself than talk to me.”
The library door opens, and Henry walks in, much more calmly this time. I jump up from the sofa and cock my head to motion him over. “Please keep an open mind,” I say quietly.
He’s lowering himself onto the sofa beside me when he sees his father’s face on the screen. He slams the laptop shut and stands up. “What the fuck, Celia?”
“Henry, just talk to him.”
He whirls around on me. “I cannot believe you called him, minutes after I warned you to stay away from him.”
“Maybe if you would explain why, I could understand!”
He steps closer, now inches from my face. “I told you he’s dangerous. That’s all you need to know.”
“You want me to trust you. Why can’t you trust me?”
“This has absolutely nothing to do with trusting you.” He backs away and begins pacing the small room.
I perch my hands on my hips. “You’re withholding information.”
He shakes his head. “Not because I don’t trust you.”
“Then why?”
“I don’t trust him. It’s safer if you don’t know why.”
“You need to work through your anger toward him.”
He levels a glare on me. “My anger toward him is the least of your concerns.”
“I’m only trying to help.”
“You want to help? Make up with Maisie. It’s practically frigid in here every time she shows up.” Henry walks out of the room, slamming the door behind him.