18. Aria
18
ARIA
T he limo idled in the back of the queue of vehicles slowly making their way to the open doors of the manor house, dropping off the partygoers who were here to celebrate Gregory Smith-Chamberlain’s appointment as Nottswood’s mayor. “This is pretty,” Elena murmured before leaning forward to speak to the driver. “Gareth, shall we get out here? Then you won’t have to wait in this queue of cars.”
The driver glanced at Elena in the rear-view mirror. Breaking protocol, he smiled and shook his head. “It’s my job to see you to the door. Sit back and relax. The queue should move fairly quickly.”
Knox wrapped his arm around Elena, pulling her into him as he kissed her cheek. I suddenly felt very much like a third wheel. Or a fifth wheel, in this case, since Knox’s parents were also in the limo with us. They’d offered me a lift, as I had flatly refused to attend the party with a date, and my own family members—my grandparents—would be chauffeured to the manor from their own home, which was in the opposite direction to Hatherley Hall.
Speaking of Knox’s parents…I couldn’t help noticing the proud smiles they exchanged as they watched their son and his girlfriend. It filled me with an inexplicable ache, perhaps brought on by the parents I’d never known. I’d never complain about my life, though. My grandparents had given me everything they could, parenting me to the best of their ability, and I hadn’t ever felt as if there was something missing.
“Mayor of Nottswood.” Knox’s dad shook his head. “I knew Gregory was ambitious, but I thought Jack would’ve been the one pushing for the mayor position. I’m surprised their father didn’t turn it into a competition between the two of them. Knowing him?—”
“Anthony.” Knox’s mum nudged her husband discreetly. “Now isn’t the time for gossip.”
“You’re right.” He squeezed her hand. “Besides, I’m sure Jack has enough to do with his judge duties, especially with the backlog of cases we’re dealing with. Every time I see him in court, he seems to be more and more harassed.”
“And you don’t?” Knox raised a brow at his dad.
“Need I remind you that you’ll be in my position soon enough? Your future as a harassed, overworked lawyer awaits.”
They both laughed, and I returned to staring out of the window, watching as the limo inched closer to the manor’s entrance.
When we finally reached it, I smoothed down my knee-length black dress, which was hopefully acceptable attire for Tristan’s parents. The plain, understated A-line style should allow me to blend into the crowd. In theory, Tristan would be the one questioning his grandfather tonight, but I wanted to be ready for any opportunity that came my way, which meant I needed to be able to stay under the radar.
The driver came around to open the door, and I slid out of the limo with a smile of thanks. We were supposed to enter with an escort—some bollocks elite rule—but I strode inside without waiting, greeting the doorman with a polite nod of my head.
The interior of the Jacobean manor dripped with foreboding luxury, all dark polished wood panelling, expensive rugs, and ornate plasterwork on the ceilings. Muted conversation reached my ears as I moved further into the house, accompanied by a string quartet. Following the handily placed signs, I moved quickly through the Long Gallery—a long, narrow room reminiscent of a corridor, lined with creepy-looking portraits, and entered the wide hallway that led to the main room where the celebrations were taking place.
Stopping in the doorway, I took in the over-the-top décor and the wall-to-wall crowds, including a number of my fellow students. So much for a small, intimate gathering. Most of the elite seemed to be in attendance, here because of their business or family connections. I guessed no one wanted to miss out despite the last-minute organisation. Turning down an invitation could mean missing important networking opportunities at best and being shunned from the circles of the rich and influential at worst.
“Behold, the Great Chamber. Or so I’ve been informed.”
I spun on my spike heel to see Blaine, one of Tristan’s friends, gesturing theatrically into the room. “Oh, hi. The Great Chamber? Is it really?”
“Apparently so. Look at that frieze, though. I’d paint over that if it was my house.” He grimaced, and I followed the direction of his gaze to the huge fox-hunting scene that dominated one wall.
“Hmm. Me too,” I agreed with a shudder.
He grinned at me. “Creepy, isn’t it? Want to dance? Or get a drink? Or sneak out and find somewhere to smoke? Anything to make this party less of a drag. I’ve only been here half an hour, and it feels like a fucking lifetime.”
As I laughed at his words, a flash of gold caught my eye, and my heart skipped a beat. My gaze shot towards the makeshift dance floor in front of the string quartet.
In the centre of the space was Tristan, with his blond hair perfectly coiffed and his body encased in a black suit that stretched across his broad shoulders. A smile curved over his lips, and even from here, I could see the sparkle in his eyes.
He was dancing with a girl I didn’t recognise. Tall, also blonde, her hair twisted into an intricate updo, and a beautiful, long pale blue dress that seemed to shimmer as they swayed to the music. He spun her, her diamond earrings catching the light as they looked into one another’s eyes.
Swallowing hard, I tore my gaze away. “Yeah, let’s dance.” There was no reason why the sight of Tristan dancing with someone else should bother me. I didn’t like him, he didn’t like me, and we were both entitled to dance with whoever we wanted. Blaine was a decent enough dance partner—I’d danced with him a few times in the past, and he didn’t step on my feet. That was my main criteria in a dance partner—well, that and someone who didn’t get handsy without my consent—and so he passed with flying colours.
I purposely kept my gaze averted from the part of the dance floor where Tristan and the unknown girl were dancing, making small talk with Blaine as we made a half-hearted effort to move to the music. When I saw Freya standing alone on the edge of the dance floor, watching us, I came to a stop before leading Blaine over to her.
“Okay, that’s my quota of dancing for the night. Your turn,” I said and left them to it. I needed to find my grandparents to say hi and check up on my grandma to make sure she was doing okay after everything.
I circled the room, unable to spot them anywhere, but I did spot Tristan’s parents, so I headed over to them to congratulate Gregory on his appointment as mayor.
“Aria, dear. How lovely to see you.” Jane kissed my cheeks and then stepped aside so I could greet my godfather and give him my congratulations. After we’d exchanged greetings, she returned to me, lowering her voice. “I must introduce you to Matthew, Tallulah’s son—the one I mentioned to you before.”
“Oh. Um…”
Her gaze flitted to my left, and her polite smile widened a fraction. “Tristan, darling. There you are. Would you do the honour of escorting Aria to the Kents and introduce her to Matthew?”
An arm brushed against my bare shoulder, and goosebumps appeared on my skin. “Of course. I’ll do that right away,” Tristan said, wrapping his fingers around my wrist.
“I’m not interested in meeting whoever it is your parents want to set me up with,” I hissed, digging my heels in as he began to lead me away.
“You’re not fucking meeting him,” he ground out, tugging harder. The only reason I went with him without a fuss was because I didn’t want to make a scene.
“Tristan, my lad.” Tristan’s uncle loomed in front of us, blocking our route. His cheeks and lips were stained red, which no doubt meant he’d been on the wine or port.
“Uncle Jack.” Tristan nodded briefly. I noticed a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“Judge Smith-Chamberlain,” I said politely.
His gaze slid to mine and then meandered down my body. “Aria. Mmm. All grown up. You?—”
Thankfully, I never got to hear the rest of his sentence because Tristan shouldered past him, pulling me through the crowds and across to a section of wall at the side of the room. He pressed his fingers to the panelling, and when it popped open, I realised it was one of the servants’ doors, designed to look like part of the wall from inside the room.
He closed the door carefully, glancing both ways before turning to the left and leading me down the passageway. We passed a couple of staff members laden with platters of food, but they hurried by with their heads down, paid to be unobtrusive.
We continued on to the end of the corridor and then up a set of rickety wooden stairs that led to what was clearly the servants’ quarters. At the end of a long, draughty hallway, Tristan turned right, pushing open a door that led into another hallway, this one decorated as opulently as the downstairs. We finally came to a stop in front of a polished wooden door, and he opened it, gesturing with his hand.
“After you.”
I stepped into the darkened bedroom, and he followed me in, closing the door behind us with a soft click.
Releasing my wrist, he crowded up behind me, banding his arm around my torso, just below my breasts.“Let’s get one thing clear. You’re not meeting fucking Matthew Kent tonight. You’re not dancing with Blaine.”
“Too late for the second one.”
His hand clasped my throat. “Enough.”
“Hypocrite.” I swallowed beneath the press of his fingers. “You were dancing with someone earlier, and you looked like you were enjoying it.”
Taking the shell of my ear between his teeth, he bit down lightly. I shivered.
“No more games. We’re here tonight for one reason, and that’s to find out what my grandfather has to say about whatever was in that journal.” He paused, his fingers pressing harder into the side of my throat. “But just so you know, I only danced with her to keep my parents happy. You, on the other hand, had no excuse.”
“Who are you to say who I can dance with?”
Ignoring my question, he dipped his head lower, sliding his lips over my earlobe. “No jewellery. No embellishments. And somehow, you still manage to outshine every other woman in the room. How the fuck do you manage to do that? You did it at the ball, and you’re doing it again tonight.”
I had no reply.
Except…that wasn’t true because I found myself speaking, words flying from my mouth that I’d never planned on speaking aloud. Words I never even knew were inside me. “You’re the one who outshines everyone, and you know it. No one can take their eyes off you, not even me.”
He inhaled harshly, his fingers flexing on my throat. “Fuck.”
Abruptly, he released me, spinning to open the door and stepping through it. Before I could move, he closed it in my face, and then I heard him striding down the hall, leaving me all alone in a darkened room.