Chapter 24 Ella #2
I think my mouth is still bobbing open and closed like fish as I watch them walk away.
What the literal fuck was that?
“I’m so sorry,” Asher says, pulling me into a hug. “My grandmother is a different beast. She is old-school, full stop.”
“How is your father so nice if that is his mother?”
Asher sighs. “He has a soft soul and is just innately good, but my grandfather was good too. He was nothing like his wife. He and my grandmother married because of connections, not love.”
It explains a lot, but the thought makes me sad. I can’t imagine spending my life with someone I didn’t like, and someone I was so different from. What a waste.
I also wonder what it would be like to be raised in a home like that, and I’m again astounded that Harrington didn’t turn out to be a terrible person.
“A soft soul with a shark for a mother?”
Asher gives a sad sigh. “Yes. She tormented him to make him strong, but she also built him up because he was the heir. Being first born is the only reason he survived. I know she was heard on several occasions to say things like she wished my father had been born the spare and that Conrad had been the heir because she thought him better suited. His personality is a carbon copy of his mother’s.
But thank god it didn’t work that way. I shudder to think where the family would be if my uncle had been the heir. ”
“I can’t even imagine.”
Asher leans down and presses a kiss to my temple.
“Don’t listen to a thing my grandmother says.
No one listens to her or cares what she thinks.
I love my grandmother, don’t get me wrong, but I agree on almost nothing with her.
She’s old and set in her ways, and she won’t be changing her mind on anything before she’s gone.
We do our best to love her and ignore her in equal measure. ”
I let out a long breath. I’m a bit shaken by her words, but they also aren’t unexpected. The rich do have a different set of rules and expectations they live by. Hating those rules and expectations doesn’t change that.
Asher and I go to take our seats near his parents, brothers, and my mother and Maya, but we’re stopped several times by more family members.
They all approach me with intrigue and feigned politeness that they hadn’t shown me earlier.
It seems that Asher insisting on me being in the family photo has made them take a much closer interest in me.
“Is there a class you’re all given to teach you how to give backhanded compliments and veiled insults?” I ask, whispering into Asher’s ear when we finally break away and take our seats. “Because your entire extended family is very good at it.”
Asher snorts. “No, we learn the tactics of social warfare by watching and doing from a very young age.”
“Gross.”
Harrington is seated at the head of the table, and rather than sitting across the massive table at the other end, Catherine sits next to him.
Asher is across from Catherine, and I sit next to him, then it’s my mother and Maya.
Sterling and Declan close in our little group next to Catherine.
Once again, I’m grateful for our little bubble on our end of the table.
It feels like there is a very real line of demarcation past Sterling and Declan, and I do not want to experience the talk and questions on the other side of the line.
Harrington stands and welcomes everyone to the annual Langford family brunch and graciously welcomes me, my mother, and Maya as guests.
From the pursed lips and narrowed eyes of the others at the long table, I gather that it’s not custom to have guests, and I suddenly feel like an interloper.
Maya looks even more uncomfortable and has a fake smile plastered on her face.
“I’m assuming there are never guests at this brunch,” I whisper to Asher once his dad is seated and the servers begin setting silver trays of food on the table.
“No, we don’t. Typically, someone outside the family isn’t invited unless they are engaged to a Langford, at minimum.”
“Then why am I here? And my mom and Maya? Everyone is looking at us like we’ve barged in on their private Christmas mornings demanding they share their presents.”
“You’re here because I want you to be here.”
“But we’re not engaged.”
He narrows his eyes at me, and I swear he leaves the word “yet” unsaid.
I know we’ve talked about our future, but that was always when it was just the two of us alone together.
When we’re in our own little bubble it’s easy to imagine that future, but when we’re surrounded by Asher’s world, his extended family, and all the other complications of his life, it’s hard to feel as secure about that future.
“I don’t give a fuck what my family thinks.
The elders of our family don’t like girlfriends and boyfriends to come to family functions because then there would be different ‘hussies of the moment’ here each year.
My grandmother’s words,” he says, rolling his eyes.
“All of us grandkids and cousins have a long history of dating many hussies of the moment, and our parents and grandparents are well aware of it, but that doesn’t mean they want to see it.
Out of sight, out of mind, sort of idea.
They don’t want someone at family functions unless they’re someone we’re in a very serious relationship with and someone worth marrying. ”
I’m quiet for a moment, trying to tamp down my insecurities.
Being told you’re good enough to be a mistress but not good enough to be a wife is not an easy thing to hear.
No matter how confident I am. No matter how much I know what Asher and I feel for one another.
Asher may consider me someone worth marrying, but it’s clear that most of the people here do not.
“I wanted your mother and Maya to come to our family party tonight. Your mother’s flight got in late last night, and Maya flew in with Sterling, so it felt only polite to ask them to brunch after they both traveled so far to be here.”
“I don’t think your family agrees.”
“Again, I don’t give a fuck what they think. The only family I care about is my parents and brothers. I tolerate the rest of them.”
I cling to the surety in his words and do my best to suppress the hurt and insecurities festering inside me.
I dish my plate up with fluffy eggs, bacon, diced potatoes, and a lemon pastry.
Mimosas are flowing, and I gratefully sip mine, knowing I’ll need some liquid courage to get through this meal.
“I hear you’re studying at Oxford,” Catherine says to Maya. “That’s very impressive.”
“I am. And thank you.”
“What made you choose Oxford?”
“I didn’t actually choose, really. Ella and our mother sort of did that for me.”
“Really? How so?”
“I never thought graduate school was an option for me, so when I refused to apply because I didn’t have the money, Ella and my mom did it for me, behind my back. I’ll never tell my chancellor this, but Ella wrote my application essay. I had no idea she had done it until I was accepted.”
“That’s wonderful. What a gift to give your sister,” Catherine says to me.
“Well, she’s the brilliant one who had a perfect GPA throughout high school and college. I just did her applications because I wasn’t going to let her forget her dreams because of money. In the end, it was her brilliance that earned her acceptance and a big scholarship.”
She turns back to Maya. “What is your field of study?”
“History and political science, with an emphasis on preservation. I hope to work in a major museum as a curator.”
“She just secured an internship with the British Museum,” Sterling says.
“It’s just admin work, but it’s a start,” Maya says, blushing slightly.
“And how do you like living in England?” Harrington asks.
“I love it,” Maya gushes. “And I’m not even too bothered by the weather. I don’t know why, but I just connect to it. It will be hard to come home next year when I finish school. Although, lately, England has been a little less fun.”
“And why is that?”
“The paps are relentless,” Sterling answers when Maya looks sheepish. “They’ve been hounding Maya since she was photographed with Ella at the polo and cricket matches when we did our Lennox Rose campaign through London. They now know she’s her sister, so they’re trying to get to her.”
“What?” I say to Maya. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to worry you because you have enough going on yourself. And there’s nothing you can do about it, anyway.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, conceding her point. “I still want to know.”
“She can’t walk to the tube or go to school without being followed and harassed,” Sterling says. “At least she quit her job.”
“I didn’t quit. I was let go because my boss was overwhelmed with the bombardment of paparazzi.”
“Why haven’t you hired a driver for her?” Asher snaps.
“I’ve tried. She keeps refusing my offers.”
I raise my brow at Maya.
“I can’t afford to pay for a driver. I’m on a student’s budget.”
“You wouldn’t be paying,” Sterling says, rolling his eyes. “I already explained this.”
“Well, it’s too much.”
“Nonsense,” Harrington says. “If you have paparazzi hounding you, you need a safe way to travel.”
Sterling turns to Maya and gives her an “I told you so” smile. “See? Here’s your proof. My family will not be bothered if I provide a driver for you. And at this point, we may need to discuss security as well.”
He leans in and whispers something else in her ear, and Maya turns and glares at him. My eyes bounce back and forth between them. Clearly, they’ve been in contact quite a bit since I left London.
“Maya, what else is going on? Why would security be needed?” I ask.
“Because her neighbors are cunts,” Sterling says.
“Sterling!” Catherine hisses.
“Sorry, Mom.” He gives her a side-eyed glance. “But it’s not like you shouldn’t be used to it. That word is thrown around a lot more in the UK than it is here, as you’re well aware.”