by Emily Bow
“Lily?”
“Um hmm?” Lily was on the other side of the room typing on her laptop instead of carrying boxes to the ballroom.
“If I carry the heavy green crate over the ballroom instead of you, will you get me into the calendar program? I’m locked out for some reason.”
Lily’s head jerked back Her eyes twinkled at the challenge. “Locked out? Sure.”
Computer Lily was a different character from computer-restricted Lily. I relinquished the laptop to her and carried the heavy green crate to the ballroom. By the time I returned, an open calendar was open on screen for me to access. “Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I inserted the event and set up a reminder. The screen popped up with reminders of past events. I clicked the dismiss X on the top of each box to close the notification.
Meet Barbara 18Jan. Pub. 16:00.
Dismiss. X.
Barbara. Castle. 02Feb 18:00.
Dismiss. X.
Oh. This was Robert’s schedule. Thorn’s dad’s schedule. A sad chill flickered through me. Maybe I shouldn’t be clicking on any of this. The family may want to have a look.
Meet Barbara. Pub. 09Feb.
The entries stopped there. My pulse twisted, and I pressed my lips together as I read the date. This was the record of the prior Duke of Raventhorn’s activities right before he passed away.
The professor had told us about him. She hadn’t said much. The former duke had originally arranged the project with her. I didn’t know the details, but the date above was less than two years ago. I did a quick online search and skimmed the news articles. Duke Killed in Local Crash. He was hit by a drunk driver while coming out of the pub.
I winced and swiped more screens but didn’t find much more on him other than family social media which I scanned. Then I added the date of the crash to my search and the name of the pub The Bell and Swan. A local woman was killed in a car wreck on Feb 10th that same year. Barbara Wilson. Both here in this small town. Barbara was the name of the woman the duke had been meeting. Common enough name. My palms itched and I tapped my fingertips on the tabletop.
Billy’s last name was Wilson. Was he related to Barbara Wilson? Again, common name. Regina would know, but I’d never ask her.
Hmm.
I clicked on the calendar and scrolled backward to that year and month. On February 9th, there was a line through Dinner with Thorn. Oxford. It had been replaced with Meet Barbara. Pub. 09Feb.
The hair on my arms prickled. A father canceling family dinners. A husband meeting with a woman he called by her first name while out of town. Both killed in a car wreck the same weekend.
There was something there.
Didn’t Europeans cheat as a matter of their culture? I’d read that somewhere. Was that what I was reading now? Thorn’s dad was supposed to be a family man, but he’d gone to this castle retreat without his family. Maybe that meant something. Maybe nothing. I stared at the dates and dug further, noting the cancellations and increasingly frequent visits with Barbara. My skin flashed from hot to cold.
Did the duchess know? I don’t think so by the way she spoke of her dear Robert.
Did Thorn?
The idea clicked, and I gained an understanding of why Thorn didn’t have a team of professionals in here doing this job, going through his family’s stuff. Someone might find out about Duke Robert’s affair with Barbara Wilson and expose the dirty family laundry.
Why hadn’t Thorn shut down our digging around in their records before one of us found something?
Because his mom wanted to keep the project going. She wanted to complete it for her dear Robert.
I cleared my search history and rose. My knees felt shaky, so I braced my hands against the table. I felt pale and weird. I could text Thorn, but the kind of questions I had were better put face-to-face. “Lily. Do you know where Thorn is?”
Lily took a moment to raise her head, as she always did when she was caught up in her computer work. Lily gave me a pressed-lip smile that was more of a wince. “I heard he’s in London for a few days.”
And he hadn’t bothered to say goodbye. I sucked in a breath. Guess I knew what he thought of our dinner date. Maybe he’d learned from his dad how to treat women—that old adage about looking at a guy’s parents to see how you’d end up.
***
I kept my head down until the UK Space Agency event. I showed my ID and had a peek at the amphitheater. The seating held at least a hundred people. More. I closed my eyes and thought of the last time I’d spoken about Dad in front of a group.
It was sixth grade. Dad had done his first spacewalk. The school made a big production of it. They were going to show a clip on the classroom monitors. I was going to say a few lines. Like tonight.
I shook the memory out of my head.
One of the guards pointed me to the reception area. I stayed inside the door. About seventy-five guests, circulated. Waiting for the event. Waiting for me to speak. My throat closed up.
Thorn stood across the room in a dark suit. He continued to surprise me and despite his mixed messages and my mixed feelings, I was pleased he was here. How had he heard about this? Lily probably. Though I’d told her not to come. I didn’t want to fail in front of anyone I knew.
Thorn had come anyway. He’d come to support me. I took a few steps into the room, and then I saw the rest of his party. Regina and Sebastian.
My pleasure dissolved. I blinked. Why would he bring them?
Why wouldn’t he? I’d never complained to him about Regina or shared my concern about public speaking and what a disaster tonight could be.
The look on Regina’s face. A bit of envy touched by trouble. The expression weakened me.
This was sixth grade all over again.
Right before I had gone onstage, a group of girls had come up to me giggling. I’d thought they wanted to be a part of the moment, and I was feeling so proud. They’d asked about every terrible thing they could imagine that could happen to my dad. I’d puked on their shoes and never made it to the stage.
I moved toward the trio, and this moment had that same vibe. I wanted to turn and run. But I wasn’t eleven years old. This wasn’t the sixth grade. Despite my new nausea, I made myself walk forward and greet them.
“I can’t believe you look so calm. I mean, if it were my dad…” Regina shrugged. “I mean, the danger.”
She’d started right in. My stomach churned.
“Wow, Regina,” Sebastian said.
I took Thorn’s arm. Because tonight was about my dad, it made me think of his own father Robert, and what I knew about him. All we’d ever spoken of before were inheritances and titles. Not grief. No matter what his dad had done, he was still his dad. I kept my voice at a whisper. “I don’t think I ever said I was sorry about your dad.”
His eyes flashed bleakness and then softened. “Thanks.”
“Excuse me, Ms. Arundel?” One of the organizers, dressed in a black suit and a nametag, offered me a cup of water.
“Thanks.” I took a sip, and the lukewarm H2O helped my dry throat.
“Do you have a moment to go over the logistics?”
“Sure.”
I excused myself from the trio and followed the lady out into the hallway where she gave me a quick run-through. The schedule remained the same as the one they’d emailed me. I took another sip of the water. When we finished, I went back inside to find Thorn. He was standing with Sebastian, and I didn’t readily see Regina.
“Are you dating Imogen?” Sebastian asked Thorn.
I froze. I wasn’t proud of myself, but I halted right there so I could hear Thorn’s response before I joined them.
Sebastian shook his head. “Of course you’re not dating Imogen.” Sebastian frowned and his lips twisted. “American. Menial laborer. Works for you. Same reasons I can’t date Lily. Though Lily really does it for me. The other day Lily emailed me a…”
I backed away.
Menial laborer? Lily
was a computer genius. One day, she’d make more than all of us combined. Yeah, she toted boxes for her mom. But that wasn’t her future. Maybe Thorn was like his dad. Have an appropriate wife, and someone on the side at the castle. I was the side dish.
Gross. My stomach knotted.
I turned to get away from them, their words twisting over and over in my mind.
Regina was strolling toward me, no, toward the guys, but she was in my path. Regina stopped. “I truly don’t know how you’re doing this, Imogen. If my father was in danger of falling from the sky…” She shook her head.
My stomach unknotted and flipped at her grotesque words. Even though I knew she was trying to unsettle me, it still worked, I felt the blood drain from my face. I went around her and walked out fast. Because I wasn’t eleven, I wasn’t going to lose my stomach contents all over her shoes.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Dad’s fine. You’re fine. I went to the ladies’ restroom and ran my wrists under cool water.
Menial labor. And so what if I did menial labor? So what if I carried boxes for the rest of my life? If I made Thorn happy, did my job matter?
It mattered because he didn’t think I was enough.
Why had he even asked me out? I touched my forehead with my wet fingertips. They felt cool on my hot skin, and I cupped my cheeks with them though I knew it was smearing my makeup. I was this close to figuring Thorn out.
Why had Thorn asked me out on a date? Why had he asked me to dinner?
Women came and left in the room behind me, giving me curious looks as they washed their hands, touched up their makeup, and exited.
I put my hands back under the water and stayed there.
Thorn wanted the project shut down because he didn’t want people digging in his father’s secret love nest. Thorn couldn’t shut the project down because his mother wanted dear Robert’s project completed. The only time his mother showed any interest in shutting things down was when she thought Thorn was interested in me.
My knees weakened, and I gripped the sink.
The duchess had only become negative about the project when Thorn went out with me.
He’d kissed me in front of his mother.
To get the project shut down. That was his goal. I was his means.
I shut off the water.
He’d kissed me in the foyer, not because he liked me or wanted to give us a chance. Maybe he wanted me. He couldn’t fake that, but he’d said nothing about forever, and nor had our relationship progressed since then. I was a pawn.
I left and strode toward the main door, wet hands dripping, walking purposefully so no one would question me.
I paused near the exit. I wiped my palms on the sides of my dark blue dress, ordered a car, and then typed a message to Oliver. I told him I’d taken ill and had to leave. The note wasn’t a total lie.
A waiter handed me a glass of champagne. I took the drink noting the tremble in my hand. I should get a hold of myself and stay.
“Imogen?”
It was Thorn. He must have been watching for me. He stood there, a questioning expression on his face, his hands clasped behind his back. “You shouldn’t drink that.”
Regina and her brother came up behind him. They each held cocktails. Sebastian turned and waved at a waiter. “I can get her something else.”
I had no idea what they were talking about. Was the bubbly too cheap a government brand for them? I raised the champagne flute to my lips though my stomach insisted that if I drank the fizzy liquor, it would hurl.
Thorn covered my hand with his, taking the glass. “Don’t you’re pregnant.”
Chapter 31
What? I couldn’t even. I had no idea what Thorn was talking about, nor at this very moment did I care to find out. I wanted away from the organizers who might pull me into their event, Regina’s vindictive, horrified face, and him. “Excuse me please.” I left the building.
Thorn followed me.
I hurried down the steps obeying my internal instinct to get out of there. Pregnant. “Why did you say that?” Did the word mean something different in Britain?
He paced me. “I saw you at the chemist. I put it together.”
I don’t know what he saw, when he saw it, or how he’d added it up so incorrectly. “I’m not pregnant.”
Thorn blinked and his eyes registered my words. “You are. You just haven’t told me.”
I stopped. “Did you think…” I lowered my voice. “We didn’t sleep together. You fell asleep.” Embarrassing but true. Heat filled my cheeks. How did this fit into the puzzle? “How long have you thought that? Since you asked me out? Is that why you asked me out?” My voice escalated. “Because you thought I was pregnant? Or to anger your mom? How many layers are there? You’re such a liar.” Hurt swamped me. “Why would…When I have a baby, it’ll be adored, not a secret.” I knew I was being hard on him, and hard on the thought. Plenty of loving couples gladly took a little risk because an untimed baby would be a welcome joy. We weren’t a loving couple.
A trio came up the walk, and I stepped aside for them to pass.
His face shuttered. “I’ll drive. We’ll talk in the car.”
I didn’t need him organizing me. I clutched my phone tight. “I’ve called a service.”
“Cancel it.”
Maybe that was a good idea. I wanted answers and the front steps of the UK Space Agency wasn’t the most private spot. I followed him to the black Bentley. He’d brought the larger car. His friends must have ridden with him. Wouldn’t this be a charming talk with them in the back? I’d hope for the bridge to go out. “What about the others?”
“They’ll make their own arrangements.”
I got in, and he drove us. The route to the castle gave me all the time I needed to confront him, but I didn’t. I stared out the side window at the English countryside fuming, listened to music, and said nothing to him. I also texted Mom, to find out Dad’s progress, making sure he was safe.
We arrived back at the local town before Thorn spoke. “What did you mean ‘I lied?’”
That you wanted to go out with me. My chest hurt. “Are there so many lies that you don’t know which one to address?”
He turned the car onto the castle driveway and pulled over by the large English oak tree. Our tree. That made me furious. I breathed out. “You didn’t have to lie.” Of course, had he really? He’d never dropped to one knee and said I’d make a great duchess.
“What about?”
He needed it spelled out to him. That meant there was more than one lie marinating in his brain. “I read your father’s schedule.”
He stiffened.
“I know about his appointments with the local woman Barbara Wilson. I found out exactly what you feared someone would find. I found out why you wanted the project shut down.”
He said nothing.
“You wanted the project shut down to protect your mother from the truth of his affair. You asked me out on a date to anger your mother so that she’d be so appalled that you were dating a worker, so she’d shut down our project and stay protected from the truth.” Saying the accusations calmed me somehow.
He hissed out a breath and paled and tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “I asked you out to get to know you. I saw you at the pharmacy in town in the pregnancy kit aisle and thought we had more to talk about. I was trying to get to know you better.”
Not a crime, not upfront, but understandable on a logical level. I wasn’t feeling horribly logical. “Is that all the truth?”
“I didn’t mind that our relationship annoyed my mother and put another thought in her head besides searching through this castle for some hint of my father’s last days. As if that would connect us to him anymore.” The raw note in his voice stilled my outrage, because as much as this was hurting me, it was hurting him far worse.
“Thorn.” My voice lost its venom and my shoulders dropped. “All you had to do was ask for my help. Explain somehow. I would have helped you.”
&n
bsp; He didn’t look at me. “How could I?” He put his head back and pressed the heels of his palms to his forehead. He looked wrecked, nothing like his normal in charge, controlled self. “How?”
“I don’t know. But you could have.” Swallowing the last of my hurt softened my voice further. “I will help.”
He dropped his hands down, and his eyes were bleak. “Do that thing you do, where you get me out of my head. Do it again.”
The feel the moment thing? “I don’t think that will help at a time like this.” I unclipped my seatbelt, reached over, and hugged him. When things were falling apart, games of distraction may help for a moment, but someone holding you together was better.
His arms were lax and then he held me tightly. “My dad was my dad. Imperfect. But mine.” He spoke into my hair. “But I never imagined I’d be left to deal with any of this. It’s all so convoluted. I’m so mad at him for dying. For not being here now.”
I said nothing and let him talk.
“I got a call from the authorities, before they even told Mom.” His voice rasped. “The report they issued was accurate but brief. The drunk ran into Barbara and my father. My father died on impact. Barbara died in the hospital the next day.” He blew out a breath. “What the report didn’t say was that they were leaving the pub following each other. A small evasion, but a huge kindness to my family. Hers, too, I suppose. I’ve never spoken to Billy about it. Not to anyone.”
That confirmed my suspicion that Barbara Wilson was Billy’s mom. What a sick stupid tragedy. I rubbed his back.
He held me a long time, and then let go and drove up to the house. He parked the car and turned to me. “I’m sorry, Imogen. About putting you in the middle of things.”
I had needed his apology. I squeezed his arm and got out. I couldn’t say it was okay he’d used me or that he hadn’t hurt my feelings. But his pain eclipsed mine. I had to let it go.
***
The next morning, I went down to the kitchen like things were normal, even though they weren’t, even though Thorn had transferred some of his pain to me. That’s all I could do, keep up the routine, keep pretending there weren’t hidden secrets in the castle tormenting both of us.
