18
Vincent Hawthorne
F or years, I have said that the woman who would make me regret my actions and want to turn back time didn’t exist.
I guess the joke’s on me .
Vincent Hawthorne has been infatuated and lusted over quite a few women in the past. He’s always been possessive about his women, but nothing like this.
I never felt like fully committing to a woman or struggling with the immensity of my feelings for someone. Not like I do with Camilla.
It can’t be love. Can it?
Not like I would know since I’ve never been in love before…Could I ever be?
Knowing that loving someone will only bring me problems has constantly kept me emotionally away from there. But fuck, this woman is turning my brain to mush.
There’s no in-between with Camilla.
I’m either burning for her, anxious to get lost in all the wild feelings that consume me whenever she’s near, or I feel guilty for dragging her to this. And my inconsistency mirrors her own…
One day, I’m irresistible, and it’s visible in her eyes how much she wants me—desires me. Other days, she avoids me like I’m the plague. As if I would burn her alive if I got too close.
Maybe I am the boogeyman.
She was right, though. I let my temper get the best of me and went too far. Camilla got hurt due to my recklessness, and realising that was what forced me to take my bad temper down a peg.
All I wanted afterwards was to apologise and show her how much she’s not just a distraction or a toy. If she was, she wouldn’t be on my mind twenty-four-seven. I wouldn’t be yearning for her every second of my days, eagerly wanting to get my days done with so I could either get a glimpse of her or a taste.
I miss her. We see each other every day at least once or twice, but we rarely talk. Just essential matters connected to the maintenance of the manor, and it fucking guts me.
When she talks, all I can look at is her plump lips, and all I can think about is how they feel pressed against mine. When her eyes finally lock with mine, even if just for a few seconds, all I can remember is the look of ecstasy when I make her climax.
I need to make things right.
There’s a soft knock on my door, and my head snaps up immediately. Is it her?
“Come in,” I answer right away, trying not to seem too eager.
“Your Grace?” Camilla’s soft voice is like a melody to my ears.
Not even allowing myself a quick moment to enjoy her voice, I rapidly straighten my back and quickly organise my desk while she slowly opens the door.
“You have visitors downstairs. They have come to see you.”
“Visitors?” I ask, confused. “I am not expecting anyone today. Who is it?”
Her posture is stiff, and her hands are gripping each other tightly in front of her. It’s only when her eyes are cast down that she answers weakly, “Your family.”
As she says the two words, announcing who it is, that’s when I notice Camilla’s stance and face. Something’s off about her, but with them here now, it’s not like I can do anything about it.
Frowning, I look at the date on my phone screen. It’s not visiting day…
But upon looking at my phone, I see my brother’s unseen text… Fuck.
Edgar
Mum’s on route to you, good luck bruv
I sigh. This is the last thing I need today.
Can’t I have one full week off?
Growing up, getting out of the family house and getting a place to live on my own has been such a life changer. I will never go back. I’ve come to realise that this was a need. A dream.
That’s why I jumped at the opportunity to come here when my aunt’s conditions required so. The manor is also much more comfortable and well-decorated than the one I grew up in.
But even now, with my own place, it feels like I can’t set my boundaries. Will my mother keep barging whenever she feels like, as if this manor was hers as well?
“I’ll meet them downstairs in a few minutes. Thank you, Camilla.”
She nods and silently begins heading out. That’s when impulse takes over and I call her name. We’ve both been miserable this past week, and it stuns me how fucking attached I already feel to her.
She turns back to face me with a questioning look. Maybe expectant? Yes, she seems expectant.
I open my mouth and close it several times, lost about what I should tell her. There’s so much I want to say, but nothing seems right...
That’s why I go for the stupidest thing, “Could you prepare something to eat and drink?”
“Of course, Your Grace.” Her eyes dim before she nods. “I’m on it.”
And then she just leaves me. Again.
“My sweet boy,” mother’s voice coos at the same time she stands up to greet me.
She doesn’t waste time walking to me with a wide smile. Sarah is in such a good mood today; what’s that about?
Even though her constant presence is unnecessary, I still lightly smile at her and open up my arms to hug her.
As soon as she reaches me and my body bends to accommodate her shorter figure, I notice some movement from the corner of my eye.
What the…
Giving it a double-take, I scour the long couch where my brother Edgar is sitting down. His presence is not what catches my attention; it’s the person sitting right next to him.
My ex. Eleanor.
“What’s this?” I whisper in my mother’s ear as she wraps her arms around my torso.
“Be nice,” she advises sternly. “We came to pay you a visit.”
“I was only expecting you two. My housekeeper announced family,” I grit out.
“Don’t be silly.” She chuckles, untangling from my hug and swatting at my chest. “We’re family. And Eleanor has been saying she’s missed you and wants to know how you’re doing,” she adds. “I thought bringing her for some tea and meeting your new house was perfect.”
“If I wanted to catch up, I would,” I hiss, hoping no one else hears, but Edgar’s cough tells me otherwise. Fuck it! At this point, I don’t even care anymore. “We agreed to do it on my terms. Can you please not interfere anymore?”
Her mouth thins into a flat line, and she nods curtly before she heads back to the couch she was seated on before. I follow her, and Edgar stands up for a hug.
Or so I thought.
Instead, he just taps my shoulder and snides , “ You look like you need to have some fun, brother. Working too much? That’s not healthy!”
“Shut up,” I cough out, pushing him away.
“Vincent,” Eleanor’s voice sounds, and I twist to face her.
“Eleanor,” I acknowledge her.
I slightly bow, hoping she’s okay with just that, but instead, she extends her hand, letting me know she expects the full treatment. Of course.
Sometimes, I wonder if we were traded at birth because she’s more like my mother than me…and I’m very similar to her father—a simple man in a lair of snakes. I wonder how he survives.
Delighted that I took her knuckles to kiss, she smiles widely at me and reciprocates with a curtsey.
“How have you been?” she questions before sitting on the couch.
“Busy,” I answer. It’s not a lie. “Things have been chaotic ever since the companies have been merged. The nutmeg demand is growing, and so are the prices. Not to mention, Aunt Lizzie’s wine was better than I thought. I already have quite a few countries interested in importing.”
And all that does not even include a mouth-watering brunette that has been messing with my brain.
Edgar chuckles, certainly not letting escape the fact I didn’t ask the same back.
“That is outstanding, but I am not surprised,” Eleanor comments. “You’ve always had a knack for business!”
“A trait he inherited from me,” my mother intervenes, excited.
“Dad taught me all I know,” I correct her, and she huffs, clearly annoyed.
“He was good with numbers, yes, but I was the creative one.”
Right . I nod, not feeding into her ego.
Mother was always busy with the latest rumour and scandal of the court, planning and plotting in favour of her own interests, becoming one of the most influential ladies in the society. But that’s about it. She has never shown interest in my dad’s business…Not until he died and she had to make decisions until I became an adult.
“It’s a shame you’re so busy,” Eleanor breaks me out of my thoughts. “I was hoping to convince you to join me for dinner one of these days; we haven’t been in touch. I would love to catch up.”
Eleanor’s attempt at a sweet tone is a big failure. Her nasal voice never bothered me before, but after being sucked into the black hole that is Camilla White with her sweet singsong voice, it suddenly annoys me.
There wasn’t a clear reason why we broke up…Not other than the fact that I lost interest. We’re so different that every subject she tries to use in a conversation bothers me to death. Eleanor’s interests don’t go beyond the last luxurious destinations she has gone to, or her friends have gone to…or the last Gucci model purse that has been launched.
I couldn’t care less.
Other women became more interesting, and she agreed when I brought it up. I don’t understand why she is so keen on spending time with me again. It’s been years…
“I’ll let you know if my agenda clears up,” I lie with a tight-lipped smile.
A knock on the service door makes my back stiffen suddenly, and I hastily walk to Edgar’s side, opposite where Eleanor is sitting, to sit down myself. My brother’s the safest option right now, and that’s a wildcard in itself.
“Come in.”
Camilla’s shoulder shows up as one of the double doors moves. She’s opening the door with her back because her hands are busy with the tray.
“Do you always have to interrupt?” my mother snaps.
My blood boils at the same time my fists close on my lap. It’s Edgar’s hand on my shoulder that calms me down— slightly.
“Camilla is here because I asked for tea and biscuits,” I grit out, trying to control my temper.
I shouldn’t even be this riled up about it. She’s only an employee—she made that clear to me last week .
What the fuck was I thinking? She was the sensible one by backing out of it.
Without uttering a single word, she serves us the regular tea, biscuits, and a few scones with some butter and raspberry jam.
“ Little Milla ,” Edgar’s emphasis on my nickname for her makes my jaw tick, but I keep quiet. “How have you been, sweetheart? I hope my brother here hasn’t been a complete arse to you.”
“Edgar Hawthorne,” Mother gasps, horrified.
“What? We all know Vincent has the worst attitude when things don’t go his way,” he taunts with a devious smirk.
Be damned whoever invented younger brothers.
“Everything’s alright, Your Grace,” Camilla’s answers meekly. Something’s off. “The duke is a good boss.”
“Is he now? I’d like to know more about that.”
“Enough,” I snap. “That’ll be all. Thank you, Camilla.”
She finally looks at me, and our gazes linger on each other for a little too long. Ever since we’ve gone back to how things were — even if they’re not the same at all — she’s been like this. Quiet and crestfallen.
It’s all the other staff members talk about. The bright, nice housekeeper is not as she used to be. Camilla may avoid me as much as she wants, but word travels fast, and these walls have bigger ears than I’d ever thought.
And I hate it, knowing I could be the reason for that.
“Yes, Your Grace.” She bows and starts to turn around but stops when Eleanor’s words reverberate through the division.
“Uh, where’s the milk?” Eleanor chimes in.
“Oh, I forgot to bring it because the duke and his family never want it. Do you need me to fetch it?” Camilla asks, seemingly ready to oblige to Eleanor’s whim.
“Almond, please,” she adds coldly in stark contrast to the warm welcome she’s just given me.
“Of course. I’ll be right back with it.”
As soon as she is out of sight, my mother quickly steers the conversation into her interests, and that’s the latest gossip being shared like wildfire through the country. I quickly zone out after I hear the words “bastard child”, thinking of Camilla instead.
“Brother,” Edgar starts, giving me a much-needed exit from either having to listen to our mother or obsessing over Camilla. “Tell me more about the wine, then.”
I focus on that and start explaining to him. A few minutes later, Camilla knocks and enters with Eleanor’s requested milk.
“Would you like me to pour it?”
“Uh.” She chuckles sarcastically. “Do I look like a maid to you?” Eleanor snarks.
“That’s not—”
“Of course not,” Camilla mutters, cutting me off. “Let me know when it’s enough.”
She pours it, and Eleanor keeps quiet, watching it until it goes more than halfway, and I can’t help but say “enough” in her stead. It’s happened in the past, and quite often, Eleanor would let the waiters overdo it just to spite them and force them to serve her all over again.
“Oh, my darling, you still know how I like it.” Eleanor turns to me with a radiant expression, almost as if I said I loved her just by telling my maid to stop pouring milk.
Go figure.
Edgar stifles a laugh with a cough. I elbow him and look at Camilla apologetically, trying to make her understand. But it’s too late. The wheels behind her eyes are turning, and as the realization sets in her brain, her bottom lip trembles, and she looks away immediately, putting everything back onto the tray.
For fuck’s sake.
“My Vincent is such a dedicated fiancé, isn’t he?” my mother chimes in, meddling even more with the situation.
She has this sweet tone in her voice, but it somehow feels like it’s pouring the deadliest poison instead.
“Oh, bloody hell,” Edgar mutters right next to me, seeing the exact thing I see in Camilla’s heartbroken expression. All I can do is sigh before dropping my head to my hands.
Still, she powers through her stutters and trembling voice, asking, “Is everything to your liking?”
My hands itch, fighting the urge to hold her and explain everything,
“Yes, darling,” Edgar reassures. “Thank you so much.”
“Great,” she mutters. “I have a few errands the duke needed me to attend to today. So, I’ll leave Mariah with you for the rest of your visit if that’s alright. I wish you a lovely evening.”
“Oh, finally. Au revoir.” The wicked smile on Mother’s face is sickening, angering me even more.
As Camilla leaves, Edgar turns to me and whispers in my ear, “Can I go check on her?”
Do I like my brother alone with Camilla? No.
He’s worse with women than I ever was, but he knows more than most. But I also know my brother would never disrespect me like that. He’s the only one who could check on her without raising questions.
So, I nod.
“Ladies, I need to use the loo. If you’ll excuse me,” he curtsies and leaves after her.
“Have you thought about changing the housekeeper, Vincent?” Eleanor asks me.
“No,” I answer quickly.
“She’s...so young,” she mutters. “Does she know how to do this job? I am sure it is demanding.”
“I agree with you, my dear,” my mum chimes in.
“She performs her duties with perfection,” I state, keeping my face as stoic as possible.
My mother sighs, “It seems my son does not agree with me.”
“Duke,” I blurt.
If I can’t put her in place for one thing, I sure as hell will for something else.
“What?” Eleanor asks, confused.
“You called me Vincent before, but we’re not married. We’re not even dating anymore. You either address me by Your Grace or Duke.”
Both women gasp, shocked at my demand, but at this point, I really don’t care.
“Vincent Hawthorne, that is not how I—”
“That’s exactly how you raised me,” I cut her off. “You taught me to put people in their place and for me to be treated with respect. That’s exactly what I am doing.”
“But Eleanor—”
“Is way below us in the hierarchy. It only makes sense,” I stop her once again. “Ladies…I have a big load of paperwork waiting for me in my office. I appreciate your visit, but I am afraid I’ll have to leave you to yourselves now. Enjoy the tea and the biscuits. Call Mariah if you require something else.”
Heading to the same service door Camilla and Edgar just left from, I find Mariah on the other side, just like expected and tell her, “See my mother and Eleanor out whenever they’re ready and let Camilla know I am expecting her in my office today as soon as possible.”
Mariah nods quickly with wide eyes before scurrying off to do what she’s been told.
My body works on autopilot, willing my feet to take me back to the office while I think back to what just happened. My mother is a cunning, ambitious woman, always set on her goals, and I know she has — from the start — noticed the tension between Camilla and me, even if she doesn’t understand the real extent of it.
Camilla’s a possible threat to her and to the future she wants for me.
But what she doesn’t realise is that all that she wants is everything I don’t want . Amid all the expectations and responsibilities I am expected to fulfil, my life is a mess. Turned upside-down by a strong tornado. And in the middle of it all is Camilla, the only calm of the storm that is my life.
And I am not willing to let go just yet.