Chapter 28
Breaking News
LANIE
On Friday, I woke to someone banging the back door. I knew it wasn’t my ride to the studio because it was too early.
“Dora!” I called for my younger sister who was always up at the asscrack of dawn.
No response.
So, I pulled myself up and raced down the steps to stop the banging. Still in a nightgown, I encountered two men in suits standing before a black Land Rover. I worried I’d slipped into one of Chloe’s spicy mafia romances. What if Baz was actually the son of a mafia king?
“What are you, the mob?” I scoffed.
“Miss Delphine, Lady Danna would like to speak with you.”
“Really? Mum sent goons for me?” I groaned. “What is it now? And where is she?”
“Ma’am, your presence has been requested,” one answered, not explaining.
“Fine,” I said. “I will change, but I am not dressing up for tea.”
I stomped back upstairs, cursing that Chloe jetted to Bali with some guy the day before. I was all alone. No one could save me. I quickly pulled on leggings, an Air Force sweatshirt I stole from my father a decade before, and a pair of running shoes. Then, I left for wherever they were taking me.
“Why are we going all over god’s green earth?” I asked, annoyed.
“Ma’am, I don’t know if you’re aware,” a goon replied from the front seat, “but you’re a public figure. The press are crawling all over the place. We are just trying to protect you.”
“Why?” I asked.
The two men made eye contact in the front seat.
I shifted nervously, confused that I was about to be taken to a warehouse in north London or forced into the backroom of a Wetherspoon’s to eat a full English with one of my ex-brother-in-law’s MP cronies.
The last time I’d been involved with those fuckers was when I used my tits to help Daphne convince a cabinet secretary to rat out her asshole ex. It wasn’t fun, but it was worth it.
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked, annoyed, as the car continued in no particular way.
“No,” the other goon answered. “We are here to take you to meet your mother. We were given the orders to deliver you safely.”
“Again, I would ask from what are you protecting me? Moreover, are you ex-military or something?”
“We’re private security,” the passenger seat goon said. “And you really have—”
I ignored him as my phone buzzed. It was my publicist in Hollywood. There, it was still late evening.
“Yes, Melissa?” I groaned.
“Are you aware of what was published on The Times webpage last night?”
“No,” I answered. “What is—”
“That paper ran a story about how you wed the son of the Baron something or something.”
“Oh, that,” I laughed nervously.
“Did you get married to a Brit without telling me?”
“Well, I didn’t expect someone to blab about it.”
“Did you marry him?”
“Yes,” I said. “But it wasn’t like a big wedding. It was… a minor thing.”
“Promise me there was a prenup.”
“There was. A good one.”
“So, I need to come up with an announcement. Jesus Christ! Lanie, stay off social and tell Chloe to do the same. She’s bound to get in trouble.”
“Yep,” I sighed. “Accurate. No worries. I am mostly a zombie from pre-production tasks.”
“Good. Stay safe and keep your nose clean.”
I turned back to the goons. “Sure thing.”
I groaned and threw my phone in my purse. The goons said nothing. After a few minutes, I realized we were headed for Davey’s house in Canary Wharf. Why was my mother here? And why had I been summoned? Was this because she knew?
The housekeeper brought me to see Davey. He sipped coffee, looking like a nervous kicked puppy, as his two-year-old twin boys screeched and ran down the hall from their bedroom. Mum, however, did not sit. She stood, ignoring me, while looking out the window.
I ignored her mood, turning to my nephew, who ran in with a shopping cart and a massive baking potato.
“Are you about to start cooking?” I asked.
“Po-TAY-to!” He said.
“Yes. Are you going to cook it?”
Davey sighed. “If only. The thing is about to grow eyes, but dear Max has decided it is his best friend. He carries it everywhere like Robbie carries his lamb.”
“You want?” Max asked.
I held out my hands as he gently tucked the potato into them.
“Hold it!” He demanded.
I tucked the potato in my arms like one would a tiny infant. Though I felt ridiculous, it lit up his little face.
“Now, you’ll have to hold it for hours,” Davey warned.
“I am hoping I will not be here so long.” I flicked my eyes towards Mum who still refused to look at me. “Where is Eva?”
“She’s in Paris,” Davey said. “And our nanny is out sick, so I’m home with these little distractions. I gave up on work.”
Davey’s wife, Eva, was his former employee.
Now, she was the family company’s chief information security person—its CISO—but he wasn’t CEO anymore.
He’d stepped down to be president of a greenwashed startup that filled his cup and let him be home for the boys.
Eva was the more ambitious of the two. If it seemed like he was complaining, it was probably just lack of sleep.
The oldest Delphine loved being a dad more than anything.
“Have you missed me, Lanie?” Mum asked as Robbie plopped by me.
Once more, she refused to even face me.
“Yes, Mum? I didn’t miss you. I was very distracted with the boys and this… potato.”
“Delanie, you may not use a potato as an excuse!”
While her voice was strong, her commitment to the act of making a potato a serious matter sent my brother and I into a fit of laughter. Mum became enraged.
“Do you think it’s funny?”
I snickered, “Well, I am holding a potato as a human shield and that angers you, so, yes.”
She threw her hands up, “Enough with the bloody potato! Delanie Beth, did you get married this week?”
My mouth dropped. Clearly, she had read The Times. I momentarily panicked, realizing I was wearing my wedding band and engagement ring. I tried to hide it, but my mother stepped forward to grab it.
“That is… impressive and incriminating.”
“So, you found out?” I pulled my hand back.
“It was in the Times wedding announcements. Apparently Lord Osgoode cannot help but announce the happy marriage of his son Basil Callan Osgoode IV to one Delanie Delphine.”
“Not my name, but okay,” I said.
“He dropped the Carlisle as it pains him to say it. What is going on, Delanie? And why have you married the son of the man who would have been glad to ruin my life? This is ridiculous! Did you mean to wound me?”
“Mum, I warned you about being calm,” Davey said.
Yeah, that’s going to work.
“God damn it, Delanie! What were you thinking? If your father were here—”
“I am saving the estate!” I shouted.
“How?”
“It’s complicated but the long and short of it was Baz was about to be disinherited as he was unwed and had no child. It’s a business agreement. I help him keep the inheritance and he will guarantee me the estate.”
“So, it’s like… a business relationship?” Davey looked appalled.
“Sure. We got married at the courthouse. It was NBD. His dad is a total prick.”
“So, you aren’t sleeping with him?” Mum asked. “Please promise me you will never sleep with him.”
Davey looked ready to die of embarrassment.
“Why not?” I snickered. “We’re married. Isn’t that what is supposed to happen.”
“Not like this! He’s a monster!”
My brother’s saintly, yet brave, housekeeper checked on us. “Mr. Delphine, would you take more tea? Or would Ms. Delphine prefer some coffee?”
“I’ll have a really strong coffee,” I said. “No tea. And can I get some whiskey in it?”
“Yes ma’am.” Like any good Brit, she didn’t blush at my whole consuming-hard-liquor-before-noon thing.
Mum continued to pace while I cradled a potato, watched Robbie assemble a block structure, and sipped whiskey in coffee. I chocked it up to frayed nerves and Scottish blood.
“Why on Earth would you think he’d give you the estate? His father hates me,” Mum said.
“Baz isn’t like his dad. He’s a scoundrel, yes, but he’s not a prick.”
“He’s definitely not ugly,” Davey looked at his phone. “You know, I recognized the name, but I’ve seen him around. He comes by the club occasionally.”
I tried not to think about which club and told myself it was the social club in Mayfair where my family retained a membership—a place wealthy men went to drink and escape their wives. Davey was far too vanilla for The Vesper Room.
“I hate that,” Mum said. “Do not defend him, David.”
“What? I can’t even make jokes now, Mother?” Davey scoffed.
“I mean, he’s hot. Chloe calls him Daddy Vibes, and she’s not wrong.” I added fuel to the fire.
If I couldn’t convince my mother, I’d just annoy her until she gave up and flew back across the Atlantic on the broom she arrived on.
“No. Just… he’s your husband. It’s ridiculous!”
“Yes. But, as I said, it was a pragmatic deal. I don’t want to explain this. We didn’t really intend for anyone to find out.”
“What, until your high-profile divorce?”
I groaned. “Look, as I said, I am well taken care of. I am getting the estate back for all of us.”
“How exactly will you do that?” Daphne asked. “And why would he agree to it?”
“Because he knows it means a lot to our family,” I answered.
“That’s not enough, though. It’s worth real money, Delanie. I know he probably lusts for you. You’re too young for him and you’re some rising star, but that’s not enough. Unless he loves you endlessly and is willing to start a war, I’m not buying it.”
“Maybe there is more to it, Mum,” Davey said. “You don’t know he doesn’t love her. You and Dad fell instantly in love and married before you even knew one another, so should you really judge?”
I patted Davey’s knee, comforted that at least my oldest brother had faith I wasn’t a total fuck up. I prayed the fact that he was Mum’s favorite would help.
She ignored him and strode over to the big window and stared out at the gardens.
“I worry she’s done the one thing she knows she needs to and that’s the issue.”
Davey groaned. “And what is that? Can we please stop it with the cryptic talk?”
Mum took a minute. “She does what any aristocratic lady does to cement herself.”