48. Chapter 48
C rispin
They all piled back into Rahul's car, the earlier tension now replaced by an odd hush. The fog had thickened around Harlech, softening the stone and sea into shadows and whispers.
Fortunately, it was a slow weekend at the Lion's Mane Inn. School term hadn't ended yet, and tourists were few. They were given their rooms with minimal fuss. As they reached the hallway, Aria fidgeted with her cardigan and backed towards her door.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she said quickly, eyes darting past Crispin's. "Goodnight."
And then she was gone, slipping away to close the door shut behind her.
Crispin stood in place for a second too long.
Rahul gave him a sympathetic look. "Maybe get some sleep," he said gently. "Reboot. Come back fighting tomorrow."
Crispin nodded, shoulders hunched and feeling a little despondent. Winning Aria over seemed to be a distant dream.
He took his heavy brass key and let himself into the room .
It was beautiful in a quiet, old-world way.
There were floor-to-ceiling windows facing the sea in a touch of the modern, a freestanding tub in the corner with bright red feet, and warm wood panelling across one wall.
The bed was enormous, scattered with pillows in black and ivory.
The entire space glowed with the late golden light that spilled through the glass.
But he barely noticed any of it.
He walked to the window and leaned against the sill, looking out at the grey swell of the sea below. The tide was coming in, the waves folding in over themselves like restless thoughts.
Things could have been worse, he told himself.
But then he imagined how badly it could have gone. Aria disappearing completely. Of her never telling him about the baby. Losing her. Losing them.
His hand drifted to his chest and rubbed the tightness that had taken residence there.
All this stress...it couldn't be good for the baby.
Then, a thought struck him out of the blue .
She'd been working-hard, manual labour-through what must have been the first trimester. Dragging boxes. Walking long shifts. Cleaning, serving, cooking.
And he hadn't even known.
He had been adding stress to her life without meaning to, and it twisted something deep in his gut. Worse still, she hadn't trusted him with the news. How could she when he had not given her any reason to?
The guilt piled on.
What kind of man had he been, that she didn't feel safe enough to tell him?
Crispin lay down on the bed, folding an arm over his forehead. But sleep didn't come easy.
Eventually, he reached for his phone.
He began to type.
First trimester...pregnancy care...manual labour during pregnancy...signs of miscarriage... What to say to someone who's expecting... What vitamins does a pregnant woman need... How to be a good partner when you're terrified...
The light from the screen cast a soft glow in the otherwise dark room.
It took a long time for him to sleep .
But when he did, he dreamt of Aria, of the spray of waves, of the howl of the wind, and a child's laugh carried off into the salt air.
By morning, everyone in the inn seemed to know. Every person he passed gave him a knowing smile.
The young couple who ran the place, Dana and Treveo Ridges, had clearly figured it out. They made teasing comments, but they didn't gossip. They just let Crispin hover awkwardly near Aria as she went about her morning routine, like a lost hound who hadn't figured out where to sit yet.
He followed her, trailing behind with his sleeves rolled up. When she moved to strip the bed in one of the rooms, he tried, clumsily, to help.
"You've never tucked a sheet before?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I usually have people who did that sort of thing," he muttered.
The Ridges terrors, their two children, poked their heads into the room and stared at him like he was a new exhibit.
"Are you the baby's daddy?" the younger one asked, entirely without guile.
Crispin blinked. "Er...yes."
The older child stepped forward. "Do you know how to change nappies? "
"No."
Both children looked deeply disappointed in him.
Aria smothered a laugh behind her hand.
Crispin shrugged. "In my world, babies were usually kept in nurseries and looked after by nannies."
The smile vanished from Aria's face. "Well," she said curtly, "I'll be looking after mine."
He grimaced. "I didn't mean it like that.
I meant... I think that's good. My mother loved us, I know she did, but she was always at galas or fundraisers or glued to my father's side.
We had nannies and tutors. Our routines were like clockwork.
Don't get me wrong, we were happy and Dorian was always around.
We had some wild adventures with Alice tagging along.
I don't think I really knew Mum well until I was an adult. Dad was always distant."
There was a pause. Then he added quietly, "She supported me during the vote, you know."
Aria looked at him. "Did she?"
He nodded. "But I don't trust her anymore."
She nodded in return, but said nothing .
He added, "Alice will be thrilled when she hears."
"Let's keep it to ourselves for a bit," Aria said. "Please."
Crispin hesitated, then nodded. "Of course."
Later, he followed her into the kitchen, where she was pulling out ingredients with ease, her hands moving automatically. He stood by the counter, watching like she was magic.
"What are you making?"
"Byrek," she said. "Spinach, cheese, and egg."
"The famous byrek."
"It's the lunch special."
When Rahul and Lule came down from their room, Aria was just brushing the tops of the pastry with egg wash. The small dining area was already filling up. People murmured and smiled when they saw her; clearly, the byrek already had its fans.
Lule flopped into a seat, stealing a chip from Rahul's plate. "Why do the Welsh call lunch 'dinner' and dinner 'tea'? So confusing. "
When she saw the byrek on the counter, she rubbed her hands together. "Ah, now that's more like it. Look at this golden beauty."
Lunch was chaos and laughter and compliments on the food. Crispin caught Aria smiling to herself more than once.
Later, he found her rinsing trays in the back kitchen.
"Walk with me?" he asked.
She hesitated before nodding.
They walked along the stony beach path behind the inn, the wind salt, laced and crisp. The sea roared softly beside them as the scent of brine filled the air. Sea gulls squawked as they swooped in the wind.
After a stretch of silence, Aria spoke. "I was scared. I didn't know how to tell you."
He looked at her, but she didn't meet his eyes.
"I had just found out about the engagement," she said. "And I got sick. Really sick. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. I didn't even know until I was a little over eight weeks."
He stopped walking. "How far along are you? "
"Twenty weeks," she said softly.
Silence again.
She looked up at him. "Marcus... Is he really your uncle?"
Crispin's jaw tightened. "My father's half-brother.
I respected him-he was the one who mentored me.
But I think he's the one who called you.
The things you were told, none of it was true, Aria.
I see now that I was too focused on holding on to the company, it's been in my family for generations.
I wanted to protect it. I wanted to pass it down to our children.
" He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry you paid the price for that. "
She hesitated, then began telling him about Marcus-the job offer, the veiled threats. How she'd said no and how she'd known instantly that wasn't the end of it.
Crispin's face darkened. "I didn't know," he said hoarsely. "I promise you, I didn't know."
She nodded. "Lule thinks that's why all my other jobs dried up. It was a ploy to make me feel there wasn't a way out. Even Mr. Lackenby suggested I could 'earn my way' in other ways. He made my skin crawl."
Crispin didn't say anything, but she could feel the fury radiating off him like wildfire.
"They won't get away with this," he said finally through clenched teeth. "I swear it. "
He looked up at the sky. "It's going to rain."
He walked her back to the inn, and when they reached her door, he paused. Then he leaned down, brushing his lips against hers in a featherlight kiss.
She clutched his shirtsleeve, holding him there. The kiss deepened as his tongue tentatively slipped past her lips. His hand came up to cradle the nape of her neck, drawing her closer, until their tongues touched with aching tenderness.
Then he pulled back. He rested his forehead gently against hers.
Control. Not yet. Not until he had earned it.
"Sleep well," he whispered. "I'll see you for the ultrasound tomorrow."
She nodded, trying not to let her disappointment show. He turned and walked back down the hallway.
As soon as he rounded the corner, Crispin took out his phone.
His voice was low and deadly calm. "Hello. I need you to do something for me."