Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
DISTURBED
Ella
Of all the people in the world, I thought I hated Richard the most. But he had a challenger for the title. Gordain’s father, though dead, was just as warped as my uncle.
Worse, in that he’d laid his fists into G.
“My stepmother explained the situation to me when I was about seven or eight,” Gordain continued.
“Da had been on one. Hitting the whisky and ranting about our family’s legacy.
Taunting me in his usual way. She’d hidden me until he passed out.
Callum stayed with me, too, and I could tell it wasn’t news to him. I guess he’d worked it out.”
“But isn’t there a legal issue?” My brother had had acres of paperwork to go through to receive his inheritance.
“There’s no covenant on Castle McRae or the estate like there is on Belvedere, but there’s tradition and old laws. If I wanted, I could have insisted on being recognised as the heir, and there was nothing Da could’ve done about it.”
“But you didn’t want that.”
“No. I never wanted Castle McRae, and I’d never take a thing from Callum, but it probably explains why I set my heart on Braithar.
Remember I told you the estate was once one huge parcel of land?
The chieftain at the time had twin boys, and he carved the estate down the middle, building Braithar to give them an equal inheritance. Braithar means ‘brother’.”
Oh. My heart hurt for the little boy who loved his older brother but dreamed up his own escape. Braithar was made for him.
“If I had the money, I’d buy Braithar for you,” I said, holding him tight.
Gordain chuckled. “What would you want with a big old place like that?”
“Are you kidding? If I could, I’d set up a recording studio there. It’s got the space I need, and the acoustics are amazing.”
Gordain relaxed into the bed, his small smile just visible.
“Nope, no sleep yet. We need to take a shower.” I jiggled him.
He made a sound of interest. Then he leapt up and scooped me into his arms. “Deal. But I’m just going to get you dirty again in there.”
He kissed me as he marched into the en suite. Under the hot water and bright lights, we got even more acquainted, getting dirty before we got clean, just like he promised.
After, we dried off with white fluffy towels, and the black and blue lines tattooed on Gordain’s back caught my eye in the steamed-up bathroom mirror.
He saw me looking. “Wasp copped a beating once. It was my fault. The first and last time Da went for either of the twins.”
“How can it have been your fault?” I ran my fingers down the slashes.
“Ally’s school report had come in. We’d all made a pact to hide any reports from Da. I slipped up and didn’t hide the letter before he got home. Da read how his son was failing in everything, then grabbed the wrong boy and beat Wasp black and blue.”
I knew Ally was dyslexic. He’d told me once when I’d found him using a text-to-speech function on his phone.
“It was the night Da died. We all had our own way of commemorating it. Callum has a sword tattooed down his back. Wasp took a nickname to reflect the marks on his back. Ally carries his guilt under a permanent jackass character.”
I winced. Then pieces slotted together. “Where you separated yourself from your family by taking the rooms in the tower. You work in a job that took you away. That held danger. You set yourself aside.”
He shook his head, but I was onto something.
“You save people, G. In the RAF and in the mountain rescue. I’m on that list, too.”
“You’re overthinking it.”
“Your father was a terrible person, but you’re the best person I know,” I finished, staring at him and feeling all kinds of things I wasn’t sure I knew how to name.
Gordain took my hand and led me back to bed. He found me a t-shirt, and we climbed under the covers, no more conversation to be had.
We kissed, settling to sleep entwined and so close his heart made its beat against mine.
And though he soon breathed deeply, sleep taking him under, I lay there awake. Disturbed, panicked, even.
When I was sure Gordain wouldn’t wake, I climbed from his bed and left the room.
Cold air swirled around my naked legs, and I hurried through the night-darkened halls. Gordain’s room was only two corridors from mine, but still, I trod quickly, my bare feet silent on the polished floor.
I’d never been creeped out at Belvedere, but then again, I hadn’t been here enough to wander at night.
A spooky feeling dogged my heels, like I was about to be grabbed.
A creak sounded nearby, and I jumped around, my heart slamming.
Nothing.
Just paintings on the walls and the silhouettes of marble statues on side tables.
My pulse made a steady thrum-thrum-thrum, and I laughed under my breath at my edginess. Still, the mansion was a big place with countless entrances and exits.
Anyone could sneak in.
Hide out in one of the hundreds of rooms.
Tucking my head down, I scurried around the corner to my rooms.
“Who’s there?” a voice demanded.
I shrieked, clamping my hand over my mouth.
A dark figure emerged from an alcove.
Mrs Hinchcliffe raised both her hands to her chest. “Gracious, child. You terrified me. What are you doing wandering the house in the early hours?” She peered at my clothing. “Don’t tell me, I can guess.”
I laughed in gasps and threw myself at her with a hug. “You nearly gave me a heart attack. I didn’t expect anyone else to be up. What on earth are you doing?”
She patted me on the arm. “I got into the habit of wandering since Sebastian was born. I wake, sometimes, worrying about Richard. He used to be so obsessed with your brother. Or his title, anyway. Once I’m awake, I can’t drop off again until I’ve assured myself all is well by going on my little patrol. ”
“What would you do if you find him?” Fucking Richard, making her do this.
Hinchie winked at me. “Never you mind about that, but I have my resources. Now get yourself to bed. Your own bed!”
I complied and left her to her watch.
In my rooms, I closed my door and dropped onto my new couch, staring up at the dark ceiling, asking myself the question that had kept me awake.
Why had I left Gordain’s bed? Why couldn’t I stay? I was on a precipice and couldn’t work out whether to cling on tight or let myself fall.
Gathering my phone from the table, I dialled the one person with whom I used to share my innermost thoughts.
Taylor answered on the first ring. “Babe!”
“Hey, can you talk?”
Chatter sounded on the line, then a door closed. “I can now. I’m at my dad’s.”
“What’s that like?”
“Frantic. Full of phoneys. His election plans are underway, so it’s go, go, go with the marketing machine.”
Strain sounded in her voice, and I held the phone closer. We’d talked about this at school—her father’s political aspirations and what it meant for Tay, her carefully controlled appearance and stage-managed lifestyle.
“That must be rough.”
She made an off sound. “Yeah, well, nobody ever died from being over-pampered and smiling a fake-ass smile night and day. So tell me, how are you? What prompts a call in the middle of a deep, dark, Manchester night?”
I chewed my lip. “I’m at Belvedere.”
“Uh-huh.”
“With Gordain.”
“Oh!” Tay elongated the word. “It’s on?”
“I hope so.” I jumped up from the couch and walked heel to toe along a line of the floorboards. “I’ve got a problem, though.”
“What’s that?”
Perhaps Taylor wasn’t the right person to give advice on this subject, but my mind was still rushing, and who else could I choose? My university friends were becoming more like colleagues, and everyone else I knew also knew Gordain.
My head spun with all the thoughts that had risen tonight.
“I’m in love with him.” My pulse pounded in my ears, and I forced myself to continue.
“I think he has feelings for me, but what if they aren’t the same?
He said all this stuff about taking it slow, but tonight we were anything but.
Then we shared all this intensely personal history, and now… now I can’t sleep.”
“You’re scared,” she said softly.
“One hundred percent correct,” I whispered back.
“Virtual hug! I wish I had advice to give, but my dating life is messed up. My whole life is a fucking joke. It would be the blind leading the blind.”
“I guess neither of us are going to be any good at this. What hope is there for girls who were raised like we were?”
Taylor sighed. “One thing is for sure, we’re never going to love small. Or have tepid feelings.”
Wasn’t that the truth?
She continued, “I sometimes wonder if we’d be different people if we’d been brought up in stable, happy families.”
I mused on the point. “I spent the last year thinking I needed to be different. That I didn’t know my own mind because how the hell could I?
I didn’t trust myself. But do you know what?
The plans I made then are the ones I’m working on now.
I’m going to run my own company, date the guy I love, and make a life for myself. ”
“And you’ll be massively successful.” Then Taylor’s voice came out forced. “I wish I could fall in love, too.”
“Got anyone in mind?”
“Someone normal, like William. But I can’t even date anyone my dad doesn’t approve of now. It’s fucked up.”
William? Oh, Wasp! She meant Gordain’s brother.
“Tay,” I breathed. “I didn’t even know you liked him that much.”
“I won’t let myself because it can’t go anywhere.”
I dropped onto a chair, and we sat in silence together for a moment. I didn’t tell her how incredible it would be if we dated brothers. She didn’t confirm the reasons why she couldn’t. It was pointless.
She needed her dad on her side, and the only way was by going where he sent her. Dating someone he approved of. Presenting the all-American family, even if she was half English. She’d blown her one shot at choice on my brother.
A Scot would never do. One a year younger than her with no money? No chance.
“Love you,” I told her.
“Love you, too. I better go. Go get back into Gordain’s bed. When you’re ready, tell him how you feel. It’ll work out.”
We hung up, and I gazed into the dark.
My phone screen lit with a notification.
An email. The sender: Richard.
Fool that I was, I opened it.
Elinor.
Further to my last message, I find I am in need of that favour. The birth of the heir has made me realise how fondly I miss family life. Your brother refused me access to his child, you recall.
Change his mind.
I will soon be permanently relocating back to England and expect this small interlude of distance in our lives to be forgotten.
In exchange, I will award you the monthly stipend that once came to me. I’m sure you can find a use for that money, considering the fees you’ll need for the second year of university.
Alternatively, you could quit that waste of time and take up a real degree. I believe it is within my gift as your guardian to direct your education as best I see fit.
I will be in touch.
Yours, etc.
Richard Fitzroy
I stared at my phone screen, nausea rising.
He couldn’t, in his wildest dreams, expect James to let him near his son. The man was toxic. Sebastian would never hear the evil words that came from his poisonous tongue.
Nor would I help him. In any way.
How did he get money again? He’d been broke, the lawyers had said. And did he really have the power to change my school? I was legally an adult, nobody could force me to do anything I didn’t want to do.
I was just getting my life in order.
It was that last thought that broke the dam inside me. I picked up my phone, opened the email again, and so, so stupidly, hit reply.
Stay away from my family. Don’t contact me again. There’s nothing for you here but the hatred you earned.
I sent it, my hands trembling with my outrage.
When I calmed, I opened a new email and sent an urgent message to Howard Marks, our lawyer.
Then I sat and waited for dawn.
At five-thirty, a fresh email dinged. Howard Marks, asking if he could call.
I rang his mobile number, rubbing the lack of sleep from my eyes and pulling myself up from my slump on the couch.
The lawyer answered on the first ring. “My Lady Elinor.”
In short sentences, I updated him on Richard’s message.
“That’s interesting timing. As soon as I read your message, I checked what little updates on your uncle I am able to monitor. I found out that this morning, the New York apartment he resides in is due to be put up for sale.”
“He’s selling up?”
“It’s likely his only remaining asset. Your brother forced the closure of his business ventures.” Howard’s voice took on an urgency. “Which led me to a short but telling paper trail to the history of him purchasing that building.”
He paused, and I leaned forward, clutching the phone.
“Mr Fitzroy bought the apartment almost immediately after your parents’ death. When he took over your care.”
“Where did he get the money?” I asked the question but already knew the answer.
“Your inheritance, I believe.” Howard sped up. “My Lady, this is no insignificant sum. The sale is likely to be agreed quickly. It’s being put up for cash only. In order to prevent your money being laundered directly into Richard Fitzroy’s hands, you will need to make a claim.”
My mind buzzed. “But he’s still my legal guardian. Won’t that stop me? Is there a way to change that?”
“None that we haven’t already explored. It will take months, still, to change the order to your brother.”
But months ago, Howard had given me an out. “What if I were married?” I uttered. “Does that option still apply?”
“But you’re not,” he spluttered.
“Work it through for me.” I leapt to my feet.
“You’d have to obtain a marriage certificate, present it to legal counsel, be declared in your majority, and lodge a claim. All in a very short time.”
“How long are we talking? Weeks?” It took three weeks to register to get married in the UK. I knew that from James’s urgent wedding.
“No, Lady Elinor. Days. As soon as Richard signs a contract, you could lose your ability to challenge. If he hides that money, you may never see any of it.”
Two options existed. The first, to let Richard sell the apartment and hope I could one day sue him to get the money back. Or the second, to propose to a man I loved, who’d turned me down once, and who desperately wanted to take things slow with me.
I needed to talk to Gordain.