Arranged_An Array Novel

by Hazel Grace

  Excusing myself from his office, the warm spring air felt lighter, now that I had taken another step toward releasing myself from Garrett. I didn’t need him; I had George. Closing my eyes, I listened to the hustle of the docks and the bellows of the men relaying orders.

  Now, to get rid of the Elite Eight.

  Garrett

  Chapter 24

  “You let her go!” I shouted in George’s face.

  He leaned against his desk, sipping on his brandy, looking at me like I was being a pest.

  “And I took half your men,” George added, with no remorse in his voice as he took another sip.

  I bore daggers at him. “Where did she go!”

  “Home,” George said calmly. I clenched my hands into fists; George was about to have a close encounter with one of them.

  Well, if this was how she wanted to act, I wasn’t going to deal with it.

  “Home?” I repeated in a low, threatening tone. “With half of my men?”

  “She received a letter from home; her father is very ill. He wasn’t getting any better, so she left.”

  I released my clenched fists, my shoulders relaxing. More guilt assaulted me; not only did I upset her, but now she was rushing home to her ailing father.

  I wiped a hand down my face. “Did you send out a doctor?”

  “I did.” George handed me his drink, which I took, and swallowed its contents in one gulp.

  “I feel bad, I think I...hurt her feelings.”

  “You did,” George admitted. “She’ll never concede to it, though. What exactly did you do?”

  I pinned him with a scowl. “I didn’t do anything. Why do you always blame me for shit?”

  George raised a brow. “Because usually it’s your fault.”

  “It was your meddling mother telling her that I was marrying Sophia that started it.”

  George chuckled. “Oh, Femme Fatale. That again?”

  I held my glass for George to refill. “She needs to keep her nose out of my shit. For her hating me so much, she sure has been talking about me a lot.”

  “It’s just to keep Ava away from you,” George replied, walking to the mantel over the fireplace lined with liquor bottles. “Fix it. Because if she even thinks of not coming back, and I have to ride over there to grab her again, I’ll beat the living shit out of you.”

  I mumbled, “I should beat the shit out of you for taking half my damn men.”

  George rolled his eyes, swigging at his glass as he walked back over. “You would have sent them over yourself anyway.”

  “Another part of our argument was you both marrying,” I advised, studying him for any signs of unease.

  He handed my glass back to me. “What about it? I already talked to you in regard to that.”

  “She makes it sound as though it’s going to happen.”

  George scratched the back of his head. “If I don’t find another potential wife…”

  “Don’t say it,” I croaked.

  George leaned back against his desk. “Just say it, Garr. You’re developing feelings for her.”

  I clenched my jaw. Saying the words felt like commitment; that I would have to stay in Telliva, which I definitely didn’t want to. “It’s complicated.”

  “You liking Ava Barlow is complicated?” He let out a snicker. “Figure your shit out, brother. A female like that only comes once in a decade. I’m just sorry we grew up together. Maybe I would have found my dream bride.”

  “I don’t want to be shackled down here. I hate the weather, the people, the—”

  “Does that matter when you like the girl? Or do you still have puppy love for women?”

  “Are you sure her father is sick?” I inquired, trying to change the subject.

  George wrinkled his nose. “What are you talking about?”

  “She could have forged the letter. This could be a plan to run and—”

  “Stop,” George warned. “She would never lie to me.”

  I raised a brow. “But she would lie to me.”

  “About what?”

  “Your little agreement,” I belted out, clenching my glass.

  “She didn’t lie. She just…waited to tell you.”

  Yeah, she waited all right. She waited until I almost took her completely, when there would be no going back.

  “Speaking of the famous pain in the ass, has John found anything on Lady Chitwood?” George inquired, breaking through my menacing thoughts.

  I sighed. “No. It’s like she knows to watch her habits. I was hoping he would find her walking out of another man’s room...but nothing.”

  “She is bound to slip up. If the rumors about her are true, she’ll bury herself soon enough.”

  “Most of them about her being a harlot, they are right. She talks like a courtesan.”

  “From what you told me, she sounds lovely,” George sneered. “We need to come up with something quickly. My parents are getting restless. Madelyn’s death has rattled them more.”

  “I’ll disappear and take Hara with me before I marry Chitwood.”

  “Father would send half his damn army, and me, after you. Sorry, but I’d rather not trace the countryside looking for you.” He handed me his glass. “We’ll think of something.”

  “I’m tired of thinking and planning,” I said, tossing back my drink. “I feel like I’ve done so much of it that I’m missing things.”

  George sat on the edge of my chair. “Sounds like you need a break.”

  “I need to go home.”

  He slapped my back. “Why don’t you go check on your men? See if they are taking care of our prized jewel over there in Bampshire.”

  I chuckled. “Fuck no. She’d have one of her pirate friends kidnap me and drop me off in the middle of the damn sea.”

  ∞∞∞

  I was on my second decanter of brandy. The fireplace that I sat before started to morph into blobs of yellow and red, and I squinted to put them back into focus. I was drunk.

  Very drunk.

  I took another sip.

  Red hair and sun-kissed skin assaulted my memory. I still hadn’t heard from her, and a part of me wasn’t surprised; she was stubborn and hardheaded.

  She had been gone for almost a week. I had hoped she would have caved and sent something to me, anything. Something to tell me she was thinking of me, like I was her.

  But why the hell would she?

  I was nothing to her. She was supposed to be nothing too but, as the days went on, I became more agitated that she wasn’t around. That I hadn’t heard from her.

  Then John brought me the news yesterday that Reddington was in Bampshire with Ava. If I hadn’t suspected his intentions before, it was confirmed now. He was up something, and I didn’t trust the bastard.

  After tonight, I would be done with all this. It was too much, and I didn’t even court the damn woman. I was angry at myself for getting into this web of emotions. I thought, after rescuing her, I’d never see her again. So, I enlisted my men to protect her until I had the assassins under control. It was for my peace of mind, with her being so young, that she’d be kept safe. Now it was turning into so much more.

  “Do you need any company?” A voice broke through my thoughts. I turned and tried to focus on the figure before me. It was a woman. Curvy. Blonde hair. Ear-bleeding voice.

  Shit.

  I laughed. As if this night could get any worse.

  “No,” I said. “My brandy is just fine company, thank you.” As always, Sophia did exactly the opposite of what I asked. She sat down in the chair across from me, pouring herself a glass, as if we were old friends.

  “Brandy doesn’t talk back,” she continued.

  I sighed heavily. “I’m aware, but it doesn’t argue with me either. That’s what makes it so pleasant.”

  “Only in the morning, when you feel like curling in a ball, retching up your food.”

  I chuckled. She was right for once; I would reap the consequences tomorrow. “Well...I ne
ver thought I’d make you laugh, Cranfield,” Sophia teased with a small smile.

  I brought my glass to my lips. “I’m surprised myself, Chitwood.”

  Sophia took a small sip of her brandy. “You’ve been keeping yourself busy. I haven’t seen you.” I nodded and continued to stare into the reds and yellows of the fire. “I heard that Lady Barlow left the castle.”

  I shifted to face her, feeling how drunk I was when my arm began to give way at my weight.

  “If you came here to talk to me about Lady Barlow, you can leave,” I ground out.

  Sophia held up her hands in surrender. “Then we won’t discuss her,” she replied simply.

  I squinted at her. “What do you want?”

  Sophia looked at me innocently. “We don’t have to talk about a thing, if that is your wish.”

  I snickered. “Now you want to be cordial? It doesn’t suit you.”

  “You barely know me,” she countered.

  Oh, I knew her; I had men spying on her at every minute. But I wasn’t drunk enough to loosen my tongue. Give me another hour. “I know enough.” I sank into the leather of my chair and crossed my legs.

  “I didn’t know you listened to gossips, Garrett.”

  “Only the facts,” I blurted, sipping more brandy.

  “And those are?”

  “I’m not drunk enough to release those yet.”

  “That’s too bad. Thought you’d be better company.”

  “Sorry to disappoint.”

  Sophia sat back in her chair and crossed her ankles. “What has you drinking so much, Cranfield? I didn’t think a female could hold such power over you?”

  I glanced over at her and rolled my eyes. “I didn’t think you listened to gossips either.”

  “Not normally, no. But ever since ‘She Who Shall Not Be Named’ left, you’ve been hard in your liquor.”

  I reached for the bottle of brandy and tried to focus on putting more in my glass. The glass which spun in and out of my vision.

  “Here.” Sophia leaned over and took the bottle from me, pouring my liquid friend for me. I held my drink in the air, in silent thanks, and took a sip. Sophia sat back in her chair and retrieved her glass from the nearby table. “Ava Barlow is nothing but a tease. An illusion to some goddess-like female, and while you blindsided men peer upon her as such, you all refuse to see her for what she is.”

  I chuckled. “You’ve taken a special interest?”

  Sophia chortled. “She would only be so lucky.”

  “What was it again you wanted?” I taunted.

  “Not a thing,” she answered. “I bid you good night, Lord Cranfield.” She curtsied and headed for the door.

  “If you think your kind approach will sway me to marry you,” I responded before she left, “you’re dead wrong. Don’t push me any further. You’ll regret it.”

  Sophia peered over her shoulder at me, her lips quirking.

  She was never going to let it go.

  Ava

  Chapter 25

  “Papa, are you sure you’re up to walking down the stairs? You’ve been in bed for nearly two weeks,” I asked as I helped him with his coat. Papa chuckled. I had made sure all his needs had been met, not that there were many. All the man needed was food and water, but I insisted on bringing him all three of his meals, reading the paper to him, and going over trade deals.

  “Perfectly able. I’m starting to feel like the walls of this room are closing in on me.”

  I looked at him, my tone serious. “If you feel lightheaded or short of—”

  “I’ll be fine. Don’t fret yourself. I’m tired of soup and bread, and that cruel cook of yours won’t feed me anything else until I have the strength to come down for dinner,” he grumbled.

  Mrs. Reynolds knew how to push him to get better soon. It worked, I’d give her that. She wouldn’t even let me sneak small snacks to his room, saying she’d skin me alive.

  “Ava, you haven’t mentioned anything about the castle. Did they treat you well?” Papa asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, putting on one of his shoes.

  I froze, but only for a moment. “Very well,” I answered, not able to meet his eyes. He’d see it. The dishonesty and turmoil on my face. I wasn’t about to add more to his plate.

  “Everything still the same?”

  No.

  “Yes. The queen is still a terror, but she has aged beautifully. I can still beat the king at chess, and George has been chastising me almost every day.”

  “But still something is amiss?” he countered.

  I turned to face him, trying my best to keep my expression neutral. “What do you mean?”

  His voice softened. “The light in your eyes has dimmed, along with your spunk. You’ve acted the role of active, caring daughter, but the grit is gone.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Just tired, Papa. I’ve been up reading at night for too long.”

  “You won’t confide in me?” he accused, jerking his head in my direction. He was the only blood relative I had. He had a right to know.

  “It’s hard to talk about, Papa,” I confessed. I sat on the side of his bed and looked down at my hands, demanding my tears stay put. I told him that Edward was forcing George’s hand, but nothing about Garrett. Those details I’d leave out. I had almost convinced myself that I was okay. That he meant nothing to me, and that it was something in the very distant past.

  Papa pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Edward can be a pushy man, Ava, but he sounds desperate to me. Especially if he hasn’t sent word to me about marrying off my only daughter. I won’t stand for this.”

  “We’ll speak about this later, Papa. Dinner should be ready, and I’m sure our guests are famished.”

  He nodded, putting on his other shoe before leaving the room.

  We walked together, arm in arm, down the stairs and through the halls, into the dining room where Eve, Reddington, and Lord Ashton waited for us to join. My eyes met Lord Ashton as he stood, politely wearing a grin.

  Clenching my jaw, I looked over to Eve, who shook her head, implying she hadn’t invited him.

  “Lord Ashton, how wonderful it is to see you,” I welcomed with a tight smile. Rounding the table, he walked over to me.

  “I hope I am not intruding,” he began, placing his lips on my hand, then brought his eyes up to mine. “But I couldn’t resist. I ran into Lady Evelyn earlier today and invited myself.”

  I forced a smile and looked over his bent head at my best friend, who rolled her eyes.

  “No intrusion at all,” I assured him. “We love having anyone and everyone show up.”

  Reddington covered his mouth, looking over his hand at me. He must had caught on to my sarcasm. As Lord Ashton pulled out my chair, I held my gaze with Reddington and winked at him. He beamed, with that smile that could bring any woman to her knees.

  Eve sat beside me, unfolding her napkin and dropping it in her lap.

  “I swear I didn’t do it, A,” she whispered.

  “It’s all right.” I patted her hand on the table.

  To my dismay, Reddington sat across from me while Ashton took the seat to my right. I reached under the table and smacked Eve’s leg.

  “What was that for?” she hissed under her breath.

  I chuckled. “For not removing the other chair.”

  Eve giggled, smacking me back playfully.

  Papa kept the dinner conversation light, asking Ashton about his daughter and how business was going, while the first course was brought out. Piping hot cabbage soup simmered in front of me, which made me glance at Papa. He’d had nothing but soup for days.

  “Reddington looks green with envy,” Eve muttered, blowing on a spoonful of soup.

  “How so?”

  “He has been staring daggers at Ashton ever since he took the seat beside you.”

  Looking over the lit candles on the dining table, I noticed his brows furrowed. Peering back at Eve, I raised a brow. “You really missed your calling for
matchmaking, didn’t you?”

  “Ava, dear, must Mrs. Reynolds tease me with serving soup as the first course,” Papa complained, dipping his spoon into it and pouring it back in the bowl.

  “Now, Papa,” I coaxed, “you know Mrs. Reynolds takes great pride in her food. I’m sure the next course will be more to your liking.”

  “Great pride, she does,” Reddington agreed. “I’m tempted not to leave, just for the delicious meals I’ve been served over the last few days.”

  “You’ve been staying in town then, my Lord?” Ashton asked, and Reddington looked up from his bowl.

  “I’ve been here for”—he looked at me—“eight days, my dear?” I nodded. “And I’ve enjoyed my time here with Ava very much.” He looked at Papa. “Your daughter was kind enough to show me around your establishment.”

  Papa laughed. “I believe she is more proud of it than I. It has flourished more in the years she has been back than when I was running it alone. I question sometimes what those nuns taught her.”

  “If it is business sense,” Ashton spoke up, “I may send my daughter to visit them sometime.” Everyone laughed, except Reddington and myself. We both knew the trials I had to overcome by being there; it was no place for a young girl to thrive.

  Papa clapped his hands in content as the second course of oven-baked chicken, boiled potatoes, and carrots was served. He continued babbling Reddington’s ear off about his businesses and what I had done to bring more money in the door. I continued to eat my meal, conscious of Lord Ashton’s stiff posture and Reddington’s quick glances in my direction, where he would always smile or smirk.

  “Come with me,” Eve whispered, as she stood from the table. “If you’ll excuse us, gentlemen. Ava and I will be back in just a moment.”

  The men stood, Papa still chewing on his chicken. I stifled a laugh; the poor man acted as though he was starved. Eve led the way out of the room. We entered the adjoining doorway from the hall, into a space that served as a reading room.

  Lined with beige paneling, the room was simple, with few paintings of various landscapes, a few vase plants, and plush white sofas that were easy to fall asleep in. The only magnificent thing about the room was the one wall filled with books from the floor to the ceiling. Dimly lit above with a wooden chandelier, we entered the cool room. The fireplace wasn’t lit, which gave the room a slight chill.