Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
ALEXANDER
He hit the floor, hard. The gasps and cries of the friends and family behind me centred my mind briefly.
I swung to face them while Theodore Fairchild gathered his bearings on the floor.
Isabelle lay unconscious in Seb’s arms, the sight building a furnace of hot rage inside me. A woman rushed from the stage, speaking urgently to Seb and running her hands over Isabelle.
“Edmund.” I spoke calmly, aghast spectators waiting for my next move. “As I requested, I would prefer we discussed this in private. What started as a terrible misunderstanding is now an extremely public affair, one that will do none of us any good.”
Her father looked exactly like he once had. I hadn’t met him many times as a teen, but I was the spitting image of my father and there was no way he didn’t recognise me. It must have just taken him a second longer than it should have.
And now, his son-in-law-to-be was knocked on his ass with his nose bloodied, and his daughter was being carried from the church by a stranger. One who I suspect, were he not carrying the love of his life, would be breaking more noses.
“She and you,” her father blustered quietly. “You can’t be!”
“I’ll happily give you more details, in private,” I emphasised.
He gaped at me and I used the moment to address the onlookers.
“Isabelle and I were married, following a terrible storm after she was lost in Kent. We fell in love, it was unforeseen, and with our families’ shared history.
” I swung my attention to her father, my meaning not veiled.
“I knew that we could move past the suddenness. While it would still be a terrible wrench for the Fairchilds–” Archibald Fairchild opened his mouth to speak but I silenced him with a single glance.
“I knew you wouldn’t deny your daughter’s love. ”
Edmund’s shock turned to fury, so briefly most people would miss it, then he mastered his reaction in a way only a politician could do.
“Archi,” he addressed Theodore’s family. “Teddy, let’s retire to my home.”
He rose to the platform and raised his hands, the congregation quietening immediately in response.
“Dearest family and friends, I beg your forgiveness for today’s events. Please, go on to the reception, eat and drink, and celebrate the marriage. Though not the marriage we anticipated I am sure the open bar will soothe your disappointment.”
The crowd murmured, but Edmund didn’t wait to listen to it. Following Seb and Isabelle’s bridesmaid as they stormed from the church.
Her mother’s voice was cutting through me, and I’d been in her company less than half an hour.
“She can be taken to her room, first floor, second door on the right,” she bossed Seb.
“What the hell is going on!” A second shrill voice joined the fray. A tall brunette, with an air of never having been told no, stormed through the front door, a calm quiet man entering the house behind her.
Seb carried Isabelle behind where Edmund and Archibald had disappeared into a large library.
The mother blustered and complained behind us.
Seb wouldn’t be putting Isabelle down; I doubted he’d ever let her go again.
“Young man!” Her hurried footsteps clicked over the floors as she bustled behind us, her other daughter in tow.
I cut ahead of Seb and shoved the doors wider open so he could carry her through safely. He immediately identified a large velvet sofa and made himself comfortable, with Isabelle’s head cradled in his lap.
His demeanour flicking between doctor and lover, rage and care.
The bridesmaid had slipped to her knees by Seb’s feet, the flowing green gown crumpled under her.
Beside me, the fathers had begun a raging argument but I struggled to tear my attention away from her. Watching the way her bridesmaid fussed over her, working out whether she was like Isabelle, or more akin to the self-serving family around her.
The woman whispered frantically to Seb, the jewellery on her arms and ears clinking.
She let out a clear growl of frustration and tore the accessories off before grabbing a handful of her long, thick, black hair and twisting it into a knot so it was out of her face.
She tried to get more comfortable and failed, her need to be close to Isabelle overriding anything else, she rose and grabbed a large cushion to throw underneath her, pausing to tear the side of the gown and allow more movement, the harsh ripping of the fabric heard over the raised voices.
She was a friend.
“What game is the girl playing now?” her mother cried into the fray. How the woman had managed to find a louder volume was a mystery to me.
“I told you, didn’t I tell you?” the younger brunette called out. “The little witch was always scheming and now look. Both of our families are embarrassed beyond repair. She’s a disgrace!”
Edmund raised his hands for quiet, just as Theodore Fairchild raced through the door. Theodore slammed it closed behind him.
I bit back the smile at the smear of blood across his cheek and the slight swelling around his nose, maybe it was broken. Shame.
“You cannot let it pass, Father!” the woman implored.
My eyes cut to her, her bluster faltering under what I knew was a withering glare.
Her ugly snarl softened into a face I knew she used to manipulate those around her. Where venom and spite creased her features before, she now blinked at me almost innocently, her brown eyes widening as she observed me for a second.
She swung back to her father, a careful control on her spitting bitterness this time. “She absolutely must go to Cliffedge. We can claim she was broken by her time away and she can stay there. It’s the only way to restore the situation. She deserves nothing less.”
“Edmund!” The mother rejoined the fray and I sighed. These women were poison. “I have had it with the ungrateful girl. You will deal with her.”
“Father, you must!” The sister joined.
“For the love of God, Ester!”
I swung to find the man who spoke.
“Would you mind your mouth for even a moment? You cannot breathe but for vitriol and I am exhausted with you.”
The sister, Ester, jolted as if struck, her painted lips dropping in surprise. I gathered she was rarely held to account.
The man approached me while Ester stood in shock, his hand raised in the first welcoming gesture I’d seen – one I hadn’t anticipated.
“Sam Townsend.”
I took his hand, shaking it firmly. “Alex Cavendish.”
He smiled, entertained. “Oh, I know.”
I liked him.
“Ester, out!” He swung to the woman who I assumed was his wife.
The spitting cobra opened her mouth to argue but thought better of it at the look he gave her and her demeanour shifted to pure disgust, but Sam barely acknowledged it.
He strode to where Seb held Isabelle in the corner, muttering a quick introduction to Seb, then turned his attention to the woman on the floor. “Sophie, please keep me informed on her condition?”
Sophie looked up at him, smiled and nodded.
Two people we could trust.
An outraged huff drew everyone’s attention back to Ester where she had actually fallen silent, the woman evidently uncomfortable with being dismissed or disregarded. Sam then led her from the room, the stomping of her footfalls telling everyone exactly what she thought of his intervention.
“Sophie?” I asked. The woman swivelled to face me, her hands still stroking Isabelle. “Could I ask you to collect some of Isabelle’s things?”
Sophie frowned, looking back to Isabelle’s unconscious form. Seb murmured a reassurance and she rose tall. Looking between the people in the room with evident mistrust and judgement.
I really liked her.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“Whatever you think, we can send for the rest.”
She laid her hand on Isabelle once more before she strode from the room, calling for someone. The tatters of her skirt trailing behind her.
I schooled my smile and looked to the men, and the mother.
They all glared at me.
“Care to explain yourself?” Edmund was icy, the Fairchilds vibrating beside him.
I arched a brow and his body stiffened in anger. Good.
“Perhaps you should be explaining to me why you kidnapped my wife?” I countered.
Theodore began to shout something that was cut off by his father.
“We kidnapped no-one. My daughter was missing, she was located on the coast and returned to us,” Edmund replied.
“So, you were simply collecting your property?” The disgust bled into my voice.
The mother protested and was hushed. Archibald, Edmund and I held the authority in the room, and she and Theodore clearly hated it.
“She cannot be wed,” Edmund argued. “I have not authorised a union and she was betrothed.”
“To my son!” Archibald added.
“Oh, I know that.” I threw the most dismissive of glances at Theodore who pulled himself taller, his lips thinned in his attempt to remain silent.
“This cannot be,” Edmund continued and I became bored with the posturing.
“Did you ask her?” I accused.
Edmund’s stony silence was all the admission I needed.
“Exactly. Did you speak with her? No. You just drugged her and hid her.” I didn’t even try to hide the absolute fury I felt.
Coming up to London today I was desperate, I needed to get to her, we had made a mistake letting her go, regardless of our justification, and once we learned with the morning announcement that she had been recovered, our decision was made for us.
The last argument against keeping her wiped from the board.
“Explain.” Archibald’s words were clipped. Everyone was becoming agitated.
They could finally feel how we had for the last few days.
“Not that you deserve the explanation. But Isabelle found herself lost in a blizzard in Kent. She told us she’d taken some time to be alone before her new future.
” I fleshed out the loose story we’d agreed on the way up.
The day really had been extremely rushed.
“We offered her shelter but were cut off from the world. During that time our feelings developed and I won’t be going into any greater detail than that. ”
Theodore scoffed. “You fucked my fiancée!”
“Unless you want to be put back on your ass, you will remain quiet. Men are speaking.” I didn’t look at him when I responded. A happy grunt from Seb told me that my comment made him suitably furious.
“We were wed the day you abducted her.” When her father went to argue I raised a hand, stopping him. “Our plan was to visit, and as I said, given the history between our families we anticipated that there would be some sore hearts, but that all would be well. But, as I said, you abducted my wife.”
Edmund’s mouth opened and closed.
“Don’t forget that they drugged her and tried to force her into an illegal union?” Seb joined the conversation. He had a beautiful way of adding salt to a wound. “You essentially trafficked your own daughter.”
Edmund looked horrified and furious in equal measure. Giving his attention to Seb for the first time. He dismissed him quickly, returning his focus to the only person in the room who could rival his influence or reputation.
The Cavendish.
I drew the marriage certificate from my pocket, crossing to the desk and slamming it onto the surface.
Edmund took up his phone and began scouring the document, tapping furiously on his device.
He paused, waiting.
“You can’t be seriously considering this, Edmund. He’s a liar. Someone the awful girl has arranged to intervene. She’s devious, Edmund.” Isabelle’s mother reminded us of her unwelcome presence.
“She’s right,” Theodore chimed in. “I hate to say it but she isn’t trustworthy, she’s more than proven that over the years.”
“Quiet! Both of you!” Edmund’s patience was spent, his phone dinging as he shouted.
The arguments stopped and Edmund fell quiet.
“Feel free,” I said quietly.
Edmund slowly raised his eyes to look at me, a brow arched haughtily in question.
“To challenge it. It’s already in the public eye.
We can hash out why Isabelle disappeared.
Her appearance at the wedding today.” I looked briefly from Edmund’s reddening face to the barely contained rage on Theodore’s.
“Marrying a woman who is so clearly sedated.” My voice lowered dangerously as I fought to regain control, but I couldn’t help my attention snapping back to Isabelle, still unconscious in Seb’s lap and I couldn’t drag my eyes away as I continued.
“Toe-to-toe, on any normal day, I could destroy everything you hold dear.” I forced my focus back to the snakes arranged around Edmund’s desk.
“Today, after what you’ve done. Well, it would bring me nothing but joy to wipe you from the face of this Earth. ”
Edmund let out a snort of disbelief.
“Really, I encourage you. Challenge this. Let’s go public. I can’t wait for it all to play out.”
A deep snicker of amusement came from Seb, the sentiment not reciprocated in the blowhards facing off with me.
“The paperwork is legal. The marriage registered,” Edmund conceded tightly.
“So?” Archibald sputtered. “You’re her guardian, Edmund. You can annul it.”
Edmund gave him his attention fully. “My apologies, Archibald. But this is now in the public domain. The annulment would be scandalous, for both of our families, and a rejection of the Cavendish marriage – there is too much there for either of us to outmanoeuvre.”
A loud crash was followed by extensive cursing as Theodore lost it.
“That little bitch!” he snarled. “You can’t do this! I’m not being rejected by her. If you allow this, I promise you, you’ll regret it.”
I blinked slowly at him, waiting for her father to defend her, to protect her as the Fairchild heir trashed the room.
But he didn’t.
His concession was purely because he was outmanoeuvred.
The doors to the room swung open, a member of staff helping Sophie back into the room, both of them laden with bags.
She took in the scene before her, stopping when she saw Theodore fuming, the surrounding devastation, and she beamed. “Someone’s feeling a bit emotional.”
“Don’t you start, you I can ruin.” Theodore stormed over to her, glaring down, his height looming.
I turned my back on Edmund and Archibald to level the Fairchild with a glare.
“I promise you this – one more threat, and I’ll take up my father’s mantle just to tear your world apart, thread by thread. If you so much as breathe in Sophie or Isabelle’s direction, I will bury you. Do you understand?”
Theodore sputtered then yelled his fury, turning to his father for support.
“Enough, son,” Archibald relented.
Theodore stormed from the room, lip curling in disgust at the maid who hovered in the doorway, her face falling and a blush colouring her cheeks.
“I expect you have someone who will be working on spinning this story for you both?” I waited for them both to nod. “You can reach me by email.” I placed a card on their desk. “I will be authorising any reports going to the news outlets and all press statements.”
The men glowered at me.
“I needn’t remind you, that my family’s influence was not only brought about by political lineage. Aristocratic blood holds more weight than both your families combined. Do not try to fuck me on this.”