Chapter 32 #2
‘I’m pretty sure that’s not what your mum’s thinking right now.’
She nods. ‘Yep. Everyone but my parents, that’s for sure. Are you okay? Mum went into full snooty dragon mode down there.’
I shrug. ‘I’m the common little tart who’s shagging her golden firstborn. Her golden, engaged firstborn. I’m pretty sure she’s allowed to hate me.’
‘You’re not common or a tart. That’s a terrible thing to say.’
‘Well, I dropped my knickers for him pretty fucking quickly.’
‘I’m not going to let you talk about yourself like that. What have you been telling me? That men, especially men like my brothers, have double standards. They get to fuck around and you and I are supposed to keep our legs closed and pursue “meaningful” relationships. I don’t think so.’
That gets a little laugh out of me. ‘Look at you, using fuck as a verb. Gold star.’
‘Can I ask how it started?’ she asks softly. ‘Because I got the impression that you thought he was a pompous arse, even if I called it right from the start that he was into you.’
All of it hurts my heart: the idea that I once thought that way about Xav as much the memory that she told me he had a thing for me that first day I met her here.
I’m silent for a moment, then: ‘It started last weekend. I thought he was hot before, obviously, but you’re right, he was a pompous arse to me.
’ I clear my throat. Yikes, this is awkward.
‘Not to overshare, but it happened precisely because he was being a pompous arse. We had a big fight in the orangery—about you, actually, and the way he and Benedict were trying to control you—and… one thing led to another.’
I risk a glance at her. She’s looking at me as if this is the best thing she’s ever heard in her life.
‘In the orangery?’
‘Yeah, and then… well, he spent both nights with me. And today he showed up at the caff where I work, and we came back here.’ I’m assuming she can fill in the gaps herself from here.
‘Holy shit.’ She looks and sounds winded, which she probably is.
‘Are you angry with me?’
‘God, no. Why would you think that?’
I screw up my face. ‘Because he’s engaged to Selena.’
‘Babe, that’s his issue, not yours. It’s not exactly a secret that they have no feelings for each other.’
‘Yeah, I just—she’s going to be your sister-in-law. I didn’t know if you’d feel conflicted.’
She pauses. ‘He doesn’t talk to me about her.
I kind of get the impression that he believes it’s his job to get on with it and not complain.
He’s very stoical about stuff. Very dutiful.
But he definitely looked horrified when Ma and Pa pushed him to move the wedding up the other day—oh, God. ’ She looks at me, aghast.
‘Yep. He’d just left me in bed, so maybe he was in a different headspace,’ I say, but she’s still staring at me.
‘Shit, you two are seriously into each other, aren’t you?’
‘No, Jesus, it’s only been a few days. We’re just… having fun.’ My words sound hollow to my ears. Fun is not an adequate descriptor for the experience of gazing into Xav’s eyes as we came apart in transcendental style about twelve feet from here.
But she’s shaking her head. ‘Nope. The way he was with you just now was intense. I’ve never, ever seen him look at Selena like that. Not once.’
‘Well, he’s getting married in exactly forty-eight days, and that’s that.
This is all we’ve got until then, and I’m sure your mum will kibosh that, too.
She and Selena win.’ The adrenaline from the confrontation downstairs has ebbed away, and a deep despair is hollowing me out.
I don’t even know if I’ll get to be with him again after this epic disaster.
I just wish I knew what the hell he was saying to his mum right now.
XAVIER
Ma’s stare could burn scorch marks into this bathrobe, I swear. I ignore it as best I can as I set about making two mugs of tea from the Quooker tap. I’ll bring one up to Ivy as soon as I’ve set the record straight with Ma. God knows, I’m not about to deprive her of her postcoital builder’s.
‘It’s just us,’ I tell Ma. ‘Say what you need to say, although, God knows, it’s none of your business.’
It’s a sharper tone than I usually take with her, but she’s put me on the back foot here, and I don’t intend to stay that way. Ma wasn’t born yesterday; she knows how these things work.
‘You gave your dying father your word just a few days ago that you were on board with moving the wedding up.’
‘I did. And I sorted it with the Wentworths, just as you asked. What I do before then is precisely no one’s business but mine.’
‘It’ll be everyone’s business if you go carrying on with that little harlot.’
I set the mugs down on the counter to let them brew and meet my mother’s eyes. It’s about time she acknowledged what I’m doing for this family and the sacrifice I’m making: a sacrifice that, with every day that passes, feels less supportable.
The problem is, of course, and always has been, that she and Pa made the exact same sacrifice. They’re the sixth formers at school who insist on making the new boys’ lives a misery because they were dealt that same cruel hand, once upon a time.
‘First, I won’t tolerate you using that language when it comes to Ivy. I just won’t. Is that clear?’
I raise my eyebrows until she nods her disgruntled agreement.
‘Second, I am doing my duty for this family, and I alone have to bear that responsibility. So kindly do me the courtesy of accepting that I am free until then to spend time with someone who’s a truly remarkable woman and trust that I am capable of conducting this thing with discretion.
I have no intention of facilitating gossip or embarrassing you or the Wentworths in public. ’
Ma doesn’t need to know that I was kissing Ivy in the street like a horny teenager not a couple of hours ago.
‘Are you using protection, at least? Because the very last thing this line of succession needs is a little bastard in the mix.’
She may be using the term in its original definition, yet I flinch.
Somehow, this usage seems even more vicious than employing it as a profanity.
That unearthly vision I had of Ivy at Belvedere last weekend, lying back against my pillows as she nursed our child, slaps me across the face like a wet fish.
I add the fact that I just fucked her bare, the extent of our ‘protection’ nothing more than her word and my trust in her, to the growing list of things my mother doesn’t need to know.
Moral outrage is the only viable path here. ‘I am not discussing this with you.’
I mash Ivy’s teabag with unnecessary vehemence before discarding it down the waste disposal. I hope she was right about wanting builder’s, because this will be strong as fuck. I add a teaspoon of sugar to take the edge off.
Ma changes tack. ‘If you insist. And I trust this dalliance won’t linger past your wedding?’
I look at her then. ‘Christ, Ma. What do you take me for? Of course not.’
‘You never know what wiles she’s using to manipulate you. Will you need to pay her off? If you do, talk to Wilkens. He can run up an NDA.’
I slosh the milk into the mug with a shaky hand. ‘We are done here. I have nothing more to say on this matter.’
‘You may presume to be head of this family soon,’ she calls as I head out of the kitchen with Ivy’s tea, ‘but it would be very foolish of you to underestimate the ability of a beautiful woman to turn your priorities upside down. Very foolish indeed. You aren’t the first de Vere to fall foul, and you won’t be the last.’