Chapter 26 Harper
Harper
I stepped off the jetway and headed to baggage claim, where I was greeted by Orion holding a sign that simply read Bennett. The smile that appeared on his face when he caught sight of me was worth a million pretty rings.
He tilted the sign from side to side and waggled his brows. “Well? How was your flight?”
“How was my first-class flight on a world-class airline? Let me think…” I tapped my chin, pretending to think. “I hated it. It was awful. Torture.” I gave him a playful shove on the chest that didn’t budge him in the slightest, then pulled him to me for a kiss. God, he was so handsome.
Hot. He’s so hot, I amended. As if he’d somehow become even more good-looking over our separation. But it was the essence or substance or whatever made him, him that I’d missed the most. Nine days without Orion had felt like nine weeks.
“I missed you,” he said softly.
“You read my mind,” I said, still holding the lapels of his lightweight designer jacket, not wanting to let him go yet, into the bustle of London.
Orion brushed his thumb over my cheek and kissed me again. “Come on. You have a lot of my country to see and not a lot of time to see it.”
He helped me with my one bag and led me to a black SUV and a uniformed driver.
“Morton, this is Harper,” Orion said as we climbed in.
He tipped his cap. “Miss.”
“Hello, Morton.”
“Did you want to eat before we get going?” Orion said. “It’s about a forty-minute drive to Surrey.”
“I thought you lived in London.”
“Nope. But don’t worry. We’ll come back and sightsee.”
He took my hand and gave it a kiss as the car moved out of Heathrow and headed south along a highway called the M25.
I checked in with home for the second time (the first being the second the plane touched down and I could turn off airplane mode) and let myself relax a little.
The scenery was mostly barren: winter trees over grayish-brown land, but beautiful in my eyes because it was entirely different.
We passed quaint little villages and not-so-quaint estates that grew bigger and bigger, until Morton drove us down a long, private road. A sign read, Ademere House.
“Ademere?”
“Ade means ‘crown’ or ‘royalty’ in Yoruba,” Orion explained. “Mere is old English for ‘body of water.’ When he bought the estate, my father wanted to pay homage to his roots. The name means Crown by the Water.”
“That’s lovely,” I said. “Where’s the water?”
“Behind the house. You’ll see,” Orion said, peering out the window. “We’re here.”
Ademere House was enormous. A fairytale castle, with actual towers and turrets, but more imposing.
It sat back from the long, circular drive, on miles of wooded land, like a miniature city unto itself.
It was a lot of house for a family of five when five hundred could probably fit within the pale stone walls.
For the first time, I had an understanding of what billions meant but couldn’t wrap my brain around so few people possessing so much.
“The baby boy returns from Heathrow with the Girlfriend,” said a deep, laughing voice as Morton set the luggage on the curb.
“Do not call me that and do not call her that,” Orion scolded, but his grin was wide. “Harper, this is Odin. Oldest, but not wisest, brother.”
“No, that would be Tav, though nowadays, that’s debatable,” Odin said grimly, then put on a cheerful smile the same way Orion did when dismissing unpleasant thoughts. He stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Harper. Welcome to our humble abode.”
“Thank you.” Odin had the same charismatic optimism as Orion, only in a bigger package. I liked him immediately.
“Of all his many ladies, you’re the first Orion has brought home,” Odin said to me. “You must be special.”
“Can we not?” Orion said, glaring.
“What?” Odin blinked innocently. “It’s a compliment.” He gestured up at the house. “What do you think, Harper? They don’t make them like this in the States, do they?”
Orion whacked him on the shoulder. “Quit putting her on the spot.”
“I just meant, it’s three hundred years old,” Odin said.
“I like it,” I said. “It’s very Saltburn.”
Odin burst out laughing. “Oh, I like her.”
“Me too,” Orion said, gazing at me.
I smirked. “You sure? You have so many ladies…”
“Yes, but I like you the most. Ow!” Orion laughed as I elbowed his side and we headed toward the huge manor. “Ah, there’s Tav.”
Orion nodded his head at the entrance. A slender young man—slightly shorter than his brothers—dressed in all black, came out from behind one of the entry’s immense pillars, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed in his pockets.
He had the same loose curls as Orion, but they brushed his shoulders and fell over his eyes, which were a striking green against his darker skin.
Everything about Octavian was quiet and subdued, where his brothers were boisterous and lively.
He greeted me with a soft-spoken voice, and then we all stepped inside.
Immediately, the energy shifted. Odin’s and Orion’s brilliant smiles vanished, and they stood straighter. Stiffly. It was warmer in the grand entry but not by much, and the silence was like a living thing that ate our words and made our steps echo.
Orion read my face, “Intimidating, I know, but you get used it.”
I smiled faintly. Do you?
I’d never felt so out of my element in my life. As if I’d been dropped into a king’s castle without being trained in the etiquette.
A liveried butler approached and took my bag up one of two stairways that led to different wings of the house, while another indicated we all should follow him to where Mr. and Mrs. Mercer waited.
As we moved through the manor, I stared up and around at the high ceilings and enormous rooms decorated for the season with garlands, bouquets of red and white flowers, and a Christmas tree in almost every room.
But beneath the festive decor were classic portraits, modern abstracts, and West African bronzes and sculpture, all complimenting each other in expert arrangements.
“Our mother’s handiwork,” Odin said, noticing my awed expression. “She’s a gallerist in London.”
“It’s incredible,” I said. “She’s so talented.”
“Isn’t she?” he said. “It’s all so varied; you expect nothing to work, but it all works.”
We passed through a huge room with a sleek black grand piano, and I gave Orion’s hand a squeeze. “This must be where you spent a lot of time.”
He wore a smile I couldn’t read, and my stomach tightened.
I tried to imagine Orion in this house as a little boy and reconcile him with the man beside me—someone who made jokes, laughed easily, and filled spaces without trying.
I pictured him at the piano in that mausoleum of a room, his music swallowed by high ceilings and closed doors, and failed.
But he’d struggled in silence for years, and somehow emerged with the best parts of himself still intact.
I was somehow prouder of him and loved him more, even though I didn’t think that was possible.
We entered a more modern-looking sitting room where Mr. and Mrs. Mercer were waiting.
“Mum, Father, this is Harper,” Orion said, his accent sharper and more refined than I’d ever heard him use.
They both stood up, her arm linked in his. Rockwell wore a suit; she was in a violet dress. The sense of meeting royalty came over me again, and I wondered if I should curtsy.
“Hello,” I said. “Very pleased to meet you.”
“Pleased to meet you, dear.” Celeste Mercer was beautiful, with blond hair, green eyes, and diamonds glittering on her ears and fingers.
But it was immediately clear she was not a trophy wife.
Aside from having her own career, it was obvious these two were partners.
Equal in all things, and I remembered that Orion had told me she’d been with him since the beginning.
“I trust you had a pleasant flight, young lady?” Rockwell intoned.
He was large, big around the middle, with an intimidating bearing.
A mountain of a man because he’d built a mountain out of nothing with his bare hands and expected every ounce of respect and deference he’d earned while amassing his vast fortune.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Thank you.”
I felt them both watching me, sizing me up.
Not cold or cruel, only practical. Controlled.
There was a slight hum of tension in the air, everyone wearing pleasant smiles, and I got the impression that the worst thing I could do in this house was start screaming at the top of my lungs or maybe burst into tears.
After some pleasantries, a different servant appeared to show me to my room so I could rest before dinner. Orion came with me and loosened up the moment I closed the door to my huge suite, which was complete with private bathroom and a balcony that overlooked the grounds.
“My room is just next door,” Orion said, taking me by the waist and waggling his brows. “Just FYI.”
“I can’t imagine anything worse than your parents catching us having sex.”
“They wouldn’t dream of coming up here in a million years.”
“Why not?”
“Because the very last thing they’d want to do is catch us having sex. The scandal!”
I pulled away from Orion to sit on the four-poster bed. “They’re intimidating as hell, but nice. Even if they both scare me shitless, I can tell they’re good people.”
Orion grinned. “Sounds exactly right.”
“Odin seems fun. Can’t get a read on Octavian.”
“Neither can I,” Orion said. “Not anymore. He’s changed. The monochromatic color scheme is new. Maybe there’s a goth craze sweeping Cambridge.”
I glanced at Orion sideways. “So, you’re going to tell them tonight, right? At dinner, about your dyslexia? And the spring concert?”
He stiffened. “I will.”
He sounded as if I’d asked if he wanted to get dental surgery followed by a colonoscopy. I reached for him and pulled him so that he stood between my knees. “Is it hard to talk to them about this stuff?”
“It’s hard to talk to them about anything.”
I gave his hands a squeeze. “I’m here for you.”
“I know.” He bent and gave me a kiss. “That’s the best part.”
***