Chapter 22
Bex couldn’t remember a time she’d ever felt so angry.
And she’d been angry before. Still, all those incidents paled into insignificance compared to this.
This was worse than every time she’d been passed over for a promotion in favour of some mediocre man, because the powers that be thought they suited the ‘aesthetic’ of the business better.
Angrier than when the doctors had dismissed her endometriosis as normal cramps.
Even more angry than when she thought Duncan was going to get back with his ex, Katty, after Bex had stupidly fallen for him, though at that time, she was mostly angry at herself.
Now, her anger was aimed at one specific person.
The one behind it all. She had no idea how Kieron had managed to find out about the incident at the pub the night before, but the article she’d seen had his smarmy entitledness all over it.
Fury roiled in her, blood pounding in her ears, her pulse hammering against her ribs.
The post had been vile, sensationalist, painting Duncan as a drunk miscreant who randomly beat up tourists and threatened the ‘impeccable’ reputation of the perfect village.
Nobody who actually knew Duncan could believe for one second it was true, but the article wasn’t aimed at them.
It was crafted to discredit him, to tarnish his name. And she wasn’t going to let it happen.
It took barely a minute to locate the small blue hatchback in the pub car park, and before she could even consider whether where she was going was a sensible idea or not, she was speeding down the lane that led to Highland Hall.
The gravel of the driveway skidded beneath the car’s wheels as she slammed on the brakes then marched over to the front door. With her hand clenched into a fist, Bex hammered it against the wood.
‘Kieron!’ she yelled at the top of her voice. ‘I know you’re here! I swear to God, if you don’t open this door now, I will break it down!’ Making threats might not have been the sensible, or grown-up, thing to do, but Kieron was the one who’d started it. ‘If you don’t—’
Before she could finish, the door swung open. She lurched forward, regaining her balance just in time to stop herself from smacking directly into Kieron.
As she stepped back, she found herself only inches away from his smug, smirking face.
‘Rebecca. This is a surprise.’ His lips coiled higher. The glint in his eyes was nothing short of evil.
‘Why would you do it?’ she snapped.
‘It?’ he mocked innocently. ‘I’m sorry, you’re going to have to be a bit more specific than that.’
Her back teeth ground together and a sound remarkably similar to Ruby’s growl rattled from Bex’s throat.
‘The post online. Saying Duncan attacked someone.’
‘Oh, that?’ He cocked his head to the side. ‘Yes, now you say it I did read something to that effect this morning. Terrible, isn’t it? Knowing there are thugs like that living in our beautiful village.’
Her muscles quivered with tension.
‘I know it was you behind it.’
‘Do you?’ Kieron said smoothly, his expression neutral. ‘I’m sorry, Rebecca, but I’m not sure what you think I’ve done wrong here. I’m not the one who landed an innocent man in hospital when I attacked them, just because I’d had too much to drink.’
‘He didn’t even go to hospital!’ Bex shouted. ‘And he was the one who hit Duncan first!’
‘Really?’ Kieron arched a single eyebrow. ‘And why would he have done that? What could your precious groundskeeper have possibly done that warranted such anger? Oh, hold on, I think I heard actually. Wasn’t it something to do with sleeping his way through half of the village?’
Bex could barely draw breath, her jaw was so tightly locked, her hands clenched and quivering at her sides.
He was baiting her. He knew he was. And her reacting this way wasn’t going to help anyone.
Especially not Duncan. And yet somehow just the sight of Kieron’s smarmy, self-important face was enough to make her skin crawl.
‘Duncan didn’t do anything wrong, and there were witnesses in the pub who saw everything,’ she said. ‘Whatever you think you’re going to achieve with these stunts of yours – trying to kick him out of the lodge, claiming that he stole the dogs – it won’t work.’
‘Is that right?’ he said, his tone cool and infuriating.
‘Yes, it is. All it’s doing is showing people what a petulant spoilt brat you are.
No wonder Fergus said he’d rather leave his inheritance to the dogs than you.
’ Surprise flashed across Kieron’s face.
It was the first reaction she’d got from him, and though it wasn’t the admission of guilt she wanted, it was better than nothing.
‘I get you’ve come for me. I rejected you.
Hurt your ego. But why are you doing this to him?
What has Duncan ever done to you? Other than be the better man? Other than actually love your uncle?’
Kieron’s top lip turned up into a snarl as he took a step towards Bex. It was an action intended to intimidate her. Make her back down. She could see that. He had already played his cards. Already pulled the clients out from the firm and make the bosses doubt her.
‘Or is it just that I chose him?’ Bex continued, sensing his tension rising by the second. ‘Is it just because I would rather have been with a penniless groundskeeper, who you’ve spent your entire life looking down on, than with you? Is that why you’re doing this?’
Kieron’s nostrils flared. ‘Don’t flatter yourself. This has nothing to do with you. I am defending my family. My uncle’s name. My inheritance.’
‘Don’t pretend you ever gave a flying frog about your uncle’s name,’ Bex spat. ‘And it’s not your inheritance. It’s nobody’s inheritance. Not until those DNA results come in.’
‘We’ll see,’ Kieron snapped back, only for Bex to shake her head in disbelief.
‘Why is this so hard for you to understand? If Duncan is Fergus’s grandson, then you have no claim to any of it. Not the hall. Not the land. Not even the bottles of whisky you tried to make everyone drink at Burns Night when you found out you might be about to lose it all.’
A snarl-like sound rumbled from Kieron’s throat. Bex had wanted him riled. Wanted him as angry as she was. By the looks of things she was getting there. And she wasn’t even done yet.
‘And quite frankly,’ she continued, ‘even if he didn’t, Duncan was more family to Fergus than you ever even tried to be.
You’re a scavenger, Kieron. That’s it. You were a scavenger when Fergus was alive, using your uncle’s name and land to make it seem like you actually mattered, what with your fancy balls and shooting parties, and now that he’s gone, you’re clinging to every last thing you can, bringing everyone down, in the hope it might make you significant.
But here’s a spoiler for you. It won’t. You won’t ever matter.
It doesn’t matter what your DNA is. Even if you do end up owning the entire estate, you’ll still be nothing more than an arrogant bully. And it’s pathetic. You’re pathetic.’
God, it felt good. Her chest was heaving. Her breath shallow and fast. Never, in her entire life, could she remember speaking to someone like that. She’d been assertive, sure. But to actually say what she thought. It was incredible.
In front of her, Kieron’s smirk faded, his expression hardening. A flash of anger lit his eyes.
‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ he said, stepping forward, so close that Bex could see her reflection in his eyes.
‘I have every right to this. I grew up in this world. This is my birthright. And let me make myself very clear: I don’t care what the DNA test says.
I will contest it, in every way I can. I will take him to every court, in every part of the country, until he’s had to sell off everything – the cottage, every last scrap of land, and every vermin-riddled animal he has – before I lay it to rest. I will bleed him dry and use every penny at my disposal to do so, because I would rather see this house, this land and everything tied to it in ruins before I let him have any of it.
Do you understand? I would rather burn it to the ground than let a man like him think he has a place in this world. My world.’
Bex stared at him, her breath catching. She could see it in his face; he meant every word. He didn’t care about the village, the people who lived and worked here, or anything Fergus had built. He cared about winning. That was all.
Her hands trembled, but her voice was quiet and focused when she finally spoke again.
‘You’re a piece of work,’ she said. ‘You’re vile. Truly vile.’
‘I’m sorry you feel that way,’ Kieron said, shrugging. The nonchalance with which he had answered the door had returned. ‘Now get off my land before I throw you off.’
With that, he turned and slammed the door in her face.