Chapter Nine
Mollie was on her way back to the room she was sharing with Jago when she came to the library.
As stately home libraries went, Wildewood Manor’s was one of the best, but it was spoiled for her now as it was the place where Maxwell Wilde had presented her with his ultimatum two years ago.
The library door was ajar, and she found herself moving towards it like an automaton, drawn to the space in spite of the memories it would evoke.
She listened for any sound, but it was so quiet she could hear the soft ticking of a carriage clock in the sitting room opposite.
Mollie gingerly opened the door a little farther and checked no one was in there.
Finding it empty, she let out a sigh of relief and stepped over the threshold, pulling the door to behind her.
The click of the lock was still faintly audible, and she stood stock-still, breathing in the scent of the ancient books that lined three walls of the cavernous room.
It was like stepping through a portal into another world, a world before phones and computers and emails.
It was a dark room due to the wood panelling and floor-to-ceiling shelves and heavy brocade curtains hanging from the windows, but on this occasion, the curtains were only half-drawn to keep the afternoon light off the priceless tomes.
There was an extendable ladder set against one section of the bookshelves for gaining access to the books on the top shelves.
There was a large leather-topped walnut desk to one side of the room with a leather chair set behind it.
On the desk was a brass goosenecked reading lamp, a leather-bound journal of some sort, a gold fountain pen and even an old-fashioned quill, adding to the old-world atmosphere.
Mollie moved towards the desk and absently turned the swivel chair, watching as it went full circle…
not unlike her, back at Wildewood Manor as Jago’s fiancée.
Pretending but feeling real emotions that—just like two years ago—were not returned by Jago.
How could they be? Even if he had fallen in love with her, it was the other version of herself she had presented, not who she was now.
But she sensed Jago was closer to her now than before, and she certainly felt closer to him, even though he had given her no guarantee of a future with him.
Why would he? She had jilted him once. Would he risk it again? Unlikely.
There was a whirring sound from the shadows of the great room, and Mollie’s heart leapt to her throat as Maxwell Wilde glided out into the light in his electric wheelchair.
‘So you’re back.’ His faded blue eyes scanned her critically, his voice hard, his mouth tight, his bushy salt-and-pepper eyebrows fused in a frown of disapproval.
Mollie schooled her features into a calm facade, but inside she was quaking like a child in front of a stern schoolmaster.
Her heart swung in her chest like an out-of-control pendulum, and she grasped the back of the leather chair to keep herself steady as her legs were like half-set jelly.
Maxwell Wilde might be somewhat diminished since his stroke a year ago, but he still had a lot of power at his fingertips, power that could destroy her and those she loved.
‘Jago insisted I came for his grandmother’s birthday. I’m assuming he didn’t check that was okay with you first?’ She kept her voice as cool as her expression, so cool it could have frosted the windows.
Maxwell activated his chair to cross the acre of carpet, coming farther out of the shadows to glare at her. ‘Since her fall, my wife has forgotten what you did to our grandson.’
Mollie ground her back teeth, fighting with every cell of her being not to be intimidated by him. ‘I would never have jilted him if it hadn’t been for—’
‘I forbid you to speak of it.’ He held up his hand like a stop sign. ‘That was our agreement, was it not? It must not be mentioned again.’
Mollie flattened her lips into a tight line, staring down at him with anger pounding in her blood with hammers of hatred. ‘Jago knows about the money you gave me to go away. He didn’t hear it from me. He found out by himself.’
Maxwell’s jaw tightened like a vice, and his eyes hardened to steel. ‘You’re fortunate he doesn’t know why I paid you to go.’ He rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair and steepled his fingers, watching her like a bird of prey.
Mollie held his gaze with gritty determination. ‘Will you tell him?’
A devilish glint appeared in his eyes. ‘Not unless you get any fancy ideas of becoming part of this family.’
‘I can’t see that happening,’ Mollie said, her heart contracting. ‘Jago will never forgive me for jilting him.’
‘Nor should he,’ Maxwell said, unlocking his fingers to grasp the armrests of his chair. ‘You lied to him from the start, pretending to be someone you’re not. I will not have the Wilde name polluted by the likes of you.’
Mollie stiffened her spine in pride. She had suffered from bullies since childhood and refused to be a soft target any more.
She was not to blame for her circumstances of birth.
It wasn’t her fault her mother had not been up to the task of parenting her and her half-brother.
‘I might not have the pedigree you would desire your grandson to join with in marriage, but I loved Jago will all my heart.’
Maxwell made a scoffing sound. ‘If you loved him, you would have been honest with him instead of whitewashing your less than desirable background.’
Mollie gave him a challenging stare. ‘You are not someone I will tolerate a lecture on honesty from.’
Maxwell’s bushy brows rose in an imperious arc, but she read a mark of respect in his gaze she had never seen before. ‘Ah, so you do have some spirit. Tell me, what did you do with the money I gave you?’
‘I spent it on getting my half-brother into long-term rehab.’
‘Did it work?’
Mollie let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping in spite of her efforts to maintain a rigid and defensive posture. ‘Not yet.’
‘But you refuse to give up hope?’ He delivered it as a statement, not a question, his expression inscrutable.
‘I figure while he is alive, there is hope. It’s what keeps me going.’
‘Optimistic of you.’
‘Perhaps, but I can’t live my life any other way.’
There was a silence measured only by the sound of a breeze that had whipped up outside, making a scratching sound from the leaves on the trees against the windows.
‘Let’s hope that optimism doesn’t include any plans to reunite with my grandson,’ Maxwell said. ‘I will allow this little game of charades for Elsie’s sake, but that’s as far as it must go.’
‘How magnanimous of you,’ Mollie said with a touch of asperity. ‘I’ll enjoy making the most of it.’
Maxwell’s eyes went to the ring on her left hand before he met her gaze once more with a cynical smile. ‘Don’t get too attached to that ring, will you.’
Mollie glanced down at the ring and then curled her fingers into her palm and met his gaze with a defiant glare. ‘Contrary to what you believe about me, I value people, not worldly goods. Anyway, this ring is a fake, like my current relationship with Jago.’
Maxwell gave her a penetrating look as if he was reassessing her. Hardly a muscle moved on his face, and yet she got the impression he had come to a new opinion about her. One that challenged his view of her as a social-climbing gold-digger.
Mollie held his look, coming to a decision that gave her a way out of Maxwell’s hold over her.
She had not broken the NDA, and she now, thanks to Jago, had the money to pay Maxwell back.
He could no longer control her as long as the images had been destroyed.
That was a risk she would have to take, because otherwise she would never escape this nightmare.
People had controlled her all her life, and she was not allowing it any more.
‘I now have enough money to pay you back. You might control Elsie and your grandsons, but you are not going to control me.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ Maxwell said with a vulpine look that chilled her to the marrow.
There was a creak as the library door opened and Jago appeared. He took in the tense tableau with an assessing glance then stepped farther into the room, coming over to Mollie and addressing his grandfather. ‘What are you talking about?’
Maxwell’s jaw was so tight it looked like it might crack like concrete under the pressure of old tree roots. ‘Why have you brought her back here? She jilted you, for God’s sake. And she’s violating our agreement on the payout which, I might remind you, she grabbed with greedy gold-digging hands.’
Jago stood close to Mollie without touching her, but she drew strength from the solid warmth of his body. ‘I don’t believe Mollie is a gold-digger. I don’t think I ever totally believed it. She put that money to good use to help her brother.’
Maxwell curled his top lip. ‘A brother who is a drug addict and a drunk. I don’t want our name dragged into the gutter by people who can’t control their urges and obsessions.’
‘I think you’re the one who is obsessed,’ Mollie said. ‘You’re obsessed with controlling everyone in your life. But there will come a day when you won’t be able to do it any more.’
Maxwell glared at her like he wanted to vaporise on her the spot. ‘I can still control you, and you damn well know it.’
Mollie stared him down with a source of courage she hadn’t known she possessed.
‘There’s nothing else you can take from me.
I’m not going to be manipulated again.’ Then with a brief glance at Jago, she swept out of the room with stately self-possession, closing the door with a hard snick as she left.
Jago was torn between wanting to follow Mollie and wanting to find out what his grandfather had alluded to during the conversation he had overheard as he entered the library. ‘Was that necessary?’ he asked with a frown. ‘I brought Mollie here for Gran’s sake.’