Chapter 38 Villain #3
“You!” she hissed as she came at me, teeth bared.
“You think that you can marry my son and then carry on in public with the most disreputable man in society? How dare you?” She raised her hand as if she might slap me.
Would I let her or would I slice her jugular open with the knife I’d automatically palmed from the nearest table?
At least the lunch crowd had thinned out so only half a dozen people could witness this debacle.
A woman from a nearby table stood and caught her wrist, then shook her hand, turning the whole thing into a smooth greeting.
Clint’s mother, dressed in a navy skirt suit and pearl earrings, was the absolute epitome of taste and gentility.
She was what every little Bostonian girl should aspire to, the best thing about Clint, and I was tattered and tear-streaked, with a knife clutched in my fist. Maybe I was better-suited to Dirk’s mother after all.
“I have to congratulate you, Michelle,” Karen, Clint’s mother, said in arch tones as she grimly clung to Mrs. Prescott’s hand. The dog yapped twice and kicked its legs, like it wanted to take a bite out of somebody.
“You should have a word with your son about consorting with certain undesirables,” Dirk’s mom sneered, shooting me a contemptuous sneer.
Karen raised her impeccably groomed brows.
“You couldn’t possibly be referring to your own dear daughter-in-law, are you?
” She released the other woman’s hand and then laughed right in her face.
“I beg your pardon,” she said, covering her mouth demurely.
“Are you truly not aware of who it is, exactly, that your son married? She’s not only the finest musician I’ve ever met, and as everyone knows, cultivation and breeding come out the most beautifully in the expression of music, but she’s also Haversham’s granddaughter.
I know some people don’t like the way he does business, but who would dare cut him, or his granddaughter, particularly after they’ve already married into the family?
I personally congratulate you on gaining the most delightful daughter-in-law you could possibly ask for, over any of her other more material qualities.
She is modest, loyal, hard-working, generous, and such excellent conversation.
I must steal her away this moment. I’ve missed her so.
” She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door, slipping her arm around my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.
When I looked over my shoulder, Dirk’s mother was staring after me with two spots of color on her otherwise very pale cheeks, shock warring with horror. I slipped the knife onto the next table we passed, and then we were out in the foyer, heading towards the elevator.
“You know, she’s exactly as bad as she seems,” she said, then laughed.
“She’s always been so afraid that her children would run amok, and those fears chased them right into what she was afraid of.
That’s one of the things you have to realize about fear, that the fear itself is so much worse than the reality.
Thank you for the time you spent with my son, helping him connect with his feelings.
When your grandfather accepted Clint’s offer, agreeing to allow him to meet you, we were all so delighted, but of course—”
“What do you mean? Clint’s offer?”
“It’s old-fashioned, I know, but out of all the eligible women, he chose you before you met, perhaps because you already had a reputation for being so private and austere, so he imagined that you’d reject him and he could go back to being the miserable playboy he was before he’d decided to settle down.
It wasn’t ideal for either family, not with our different business interests, but I wanted so much for Clint to open up his heart to someone before he became set in his ways. ”
My skin went hot and cold while I frowned at her. “Before we met?”
“I believe he heard you play in a practice room when he went to see a friend of his at your charming school long ago. He mentioned it. The most talented cellist in the country who never smiled except when she was playing. I knew your mother. Not personally, of course, because she was as guarded as you are, but I always thought she had great courage for marrying a musician instead of one of the more appropriate candidates.” Appropriate because they were super serum babies?
“I’m sorry, you’re saying that Clint requested a meeting with me before we met at the gala? He didn’t mention it. My grandfather only said that he wanted me to convince him to do business with us.”
She waved an airy hand. “Well, it’s always business, even in marriage.
I am sorry that you aren’t going to join our family, but the Prescotts are adequate, although they are rather inflexible on points of law, which can become extremely tedious.
Here’s your elevator. Give Michelle some time to get used to the idea, and she’ll be insisting that you come home for holidays.
I need to get back to my lunch companion.
” She saw me off on the elevator while I stared at her, feeling like the world had dumped me on my head again.
Had I not seduced Clint after all? Had he been willing enough to close the business with me based on nothing more than a hostile attitude and an aptitude for music?
Why hadn’t my grandfather told me that I was being sold off to continue the super serum line?
Because I would have refused. It had to have an element of challenge or I wouldn’t have done it. He’d played me so perfectly.
I ran a shaky hand over my mussed chignon.
First thing I needed to do was get ready for the coming meeting.
That explained why Clint had so much Haversham stock, if my grandfather had actually agreed with the merger of both our wealth and names.
Why had my grandfather agreed to something so bizarre?
He was a master manipulator, so was what I was doing now something he expected?
Did he want me to defeat Philippe, or did he want me to fail and find some quiet marriage instead?
The meeting was a small affair, the usual weekly meeting that no one but the company’s CEO and administrative staff would usually attend, but that time it was me in the closest thing to a power suit that I could buy on short notice, and Clint looking like a cold and ruthless businessman for the first time.
“Mrs. Dagger,” he said before he opened the door and gestured me in.
“Mr. Clint.”
“It’s Mr. Harrison.”
“It’s Mrs. Prescott.”
He smiled slightly. “Shall we?” He gestured me in, and I went, and then chaos erupted. Phone calls were made, but in the next forty-five minutes, everything was established, and the arm of Haversham that Philippe was counting on to smooth the transition of the merger was cut off. Decisively.
“They look at you like you’re the goddess of death,” Clint said mildly as he packed away his briefcase.
“It was a pleasure doing business with you,” I said coolly, then frowned at him. “Are you certain I can’t give you any other payment for all of your help? It will be terrible for your portfolio.”
“My portfolio can handle it. If you need any more assistance with family troubles, call my secretary. She can take care of whatever you need.”
“She is very competent.”
“She’ll have to be. I’m going to the ranch I told you about for a long spell.
I hope that things work out for the two of you.
James doesn’t deserve you, but I don’t know anyone who deserves you who could handle you.
” He nodded at me and left me with the few lingering businessmen while I packed up my briefcase and slowly limped out.
My knees had really taken a hit on the cement, but it was worth it to save Maples, particularly if he wasn’t dying anymore.
I smiled and walked more briskly in spite of the overwhelming exhaustion.
Philippe would be so unpleasantly surprised tomorrow when his precious deal fell through.
I stepped out onto the street and took a moment to breathe in deeply and felt almost hopeful.
Maybe Dirk would see this and think that I wasn’t entirely without shame.
Speaking of shameless, it was time I visited my grandfather.
I waved down a cab and had him drive to the oldest part of town, where the club had been a bastion against feminine wiles for centuries.
I couldn’t summon my grandfather, and I wasn’t about to wait for him to summon me, so I’d go to him and have a nice, honest conversation about the state of his business and his psychotic grandson.
The man at the counter inside the etched glass door looked up in alarm when he saw me, then something changed in his eyes. I hadn’t been here since I was fifteen, but perhaps he still knew me.
“Miss Delavigne.”
“It’s Mrs. Prescott. I’m here to see my grandfather. Is he in the usual chair?”
“Ah, yes, but I’m not certain…”
“Bring me a scotch.”
I left him stammering behind me as I went to see the one who had given Clint stocks in his corporation for taking me off his hands, but let me think that I was the one seducing him.
It would be more infuriating if I cared about Clint.
If I’d loved him, I’d be devastated, but instead, I was only bewildered.
I walked into the room lit only by green-shaded lamps next to chairs of various cushiness. My grandfather’s chair was at the far end, next to a stained glass window that let nothing through but was still beautiful, a scene of Paul Revere on his night ride beneath dizzying stars.
I sat in the nearest chair and leaned back, taking a moment to center myself as if I were about to play in a concert.
“Philippe shot a rocket at me. Here’s how it’s going to work.
I will go to war with him, and Haversham will be the battlefield, likely ruined in the exchange, or you will support my place as rightful heir and cut him off. ”