25. Aria
25
ARIA
M y head felt as if it was simultaneously being squeezed in a vice and attacked by hundreds of tiny hammers. I groaned, shifting and then freezing in place when I realised I was pressed up against a body. A warm, solid body with a muscular arm that was wrapped around me, holding me securely in place.
“How are you feeling?” a voice asked, all soft and raspy from sleep. Last night came flooding back to me. Drinking to forget…Graham…Tristan appearing…had he carried me somewhere?
“Where—” I cleared my throat when my voice cracked and tried again. “Where am I?”
“In my room. You should probably drink some water and have more tablets.”
Oh. Oh . I was in Tristan’s room. No. Not only in his room but in his bed, with him. I groaned again, wishing I was having a drunken hallucination.
“I’m sorry.”
He huffed out a breath, tickling my face as a few flyaway strands of hair blew across my cheek. “No need to apologise. We’ve all been there.” His tone was cautious, and I wondered if he expected me to be angry about the fact we were in bed together. I was pretty sure I’d been the one to ask him to stay, though, if my hazy memories could be trusted.
Now I was here…I had no excuse not to talk to him about the information I’d discovered yesterday.
I groaned again as the hammering in my head increased. I’d talk to him…after I’d medicated.
Forty minutes later, I was feeling much more human. Tristan had managed to sweet-talk one of the kitchen staff into making us bacon rolls, the tablets were working their magic, and I’d forced down two full pints of water. Sitting up in his bed, leaning against the wall, I dabbed my face with a tissue, doing my best to remove some of my smeared make-up without the use of proper make-up remover.
Balling up the tissue, I gave it up as a lost cause. Tristan had seen me at my worst, anyway, not that I needed to impress him, and there was no one else here. I had no idea where Roman was, but it was just the two of us for now.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet Tristan’s gaze. He was seated on Roman’s bed, his posture seemingly relaxed, although the muscle ticking in his jaw gave him away. “Tristan. I need to speak to you.”
“About what? Look, I didn’t mean to punch Graham. It was just?—”
“What? No. I’m glad you punched him.” My mouth twisted as I remembered his clammy hand on my leg, his beer breath hot on my face… When Tristan had pulled him off me, I’d been preparing to knee him in the balls.
“Okay, then. In that case, the bastard got what was coming to him.” He flashed me a quick, slightly uncertain grin.
“He did.” I smiled back, and his grin widened. I cleared my throat, my smile disappearing as I thought about what I had to tell him. “I wanted to talk to you about something Professor Watkins told me yesterday during our supervised study period.”
“What is it?”
As I went through everything that had happened, Tristan became visibly agitated, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. When I finished recounting the event, he got up and began pacing.
“I don’t understand. This makes no sense. My grandfather wouldn’t lie to me. Would he?” He stopped dead, his face paling beneath his tan. “Oh, fuck.”
“What?” I sprang to my feet, rushing over to him and gripping his arms. “What is it?”
“I can’t tell you.” The anguish in his voice took me aback.
“Tell me. Please.”
“It just—fuck! It all adds up. That’s why he tried so hard to make sure John’s family was provided for. Not because he was his friend and wanted to make sure his family was taken care of. And—oh, shit. That was why he was so insistent that your grandmother didn’t find out about the money. He didn’t want her looking too deeply into it and finding out the real reason.”
Money? “Tristan, what money?”
“Fuckfuckfuck.” He tugged at his hair. “I don’t know how to say this. Please don’t shoot the messenger. I didn’t know anything about this until that night at the manor, and neither my parents nor your grandparents are aware, either. Unless he was lying about that, too.”
“Tristan. What money ?”
His eyes met mine, and his expression chilled me. I sank down onto Roman’s bed, clasping my shaking hands together as I braced myself for whatever he was about to say.
“My grandfather is the one who has been paying your school fees.”