by Lexie Ray
Holding her gaze, Willow took care to note every shift and change in Natalie. But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t begin to understand what the young baroness was up to. For an excruciatingly long moment, the women only stared at each other in silence.
“Is something wrong, Natalie?” Willow asked at last.
“Why would you have that impression?” she asked as she straightened her shoulders and shifted her posture.
It was a motion she had seen a million times. It was Mads’ go-to move when he was feeling uncomfortable, and it brought a smile to Willow’s face.
“You are so much like Mads.”
Natalie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I believe you will find that quite inaccurate. I will not bow so easily to your whims.”
“You’ve really got the wrong impression.”
“I am sure.”
This was getting off track. “It’s just that you seem tense, and I wanted to make sure that you’re okay.”
Natalie’s anger pattered out with an annoyed scoff. “I am under no threat and have no idea why Mads seems to believe the opposite.”
“Okay.”
Caught off guard, Natalie struggled for an immediate reply. Eventually, she pushed her shoulders back, raised her chin, and smiled.
“You must be freezing. I’ll have a maid find you something acceptable.”
She didn’t wait for a response before she left. Willow yanked the sheets off of the bed and wrapped them around herself, seeking some kind of warmth. The whole time, her mind kept replaying her interactions with Natalie, trying to pinpoint just when she had entered her bad books.
***
For all the years Mads had avoided coming back, The Mermaid was still exactly as he had remembered it: cold, dark, and most of all, crushingly silent. He couldn’t stand being in his room, and had still been buttoning his cuffs as he stalked out of it. His winter suit didn’t keep the chill entirely at bay. It fell on him like a slab of ice. He rolled his shoulders under the heavy, familiar weight. His shoes clicked against the stone floor, echoing around him as loud as the rolling thunder. Subconsciously, he had only packed black and gold clothes, right down to his tie and cufflinks. The colors matched this place and swallowed him whole as if he had never left.
Mads didn’t make his way to the dining hall. There was something he needed to see first. The art collection was one of the few things that had grown and evolved in The Mermaid. Mads had made sure of it, and it had been one of the few changes Filip had allowed during his youth. After all, a fine art collection only added to the family’s prestige. While Filip liked to be seen as a lover of arts, he took no real pleasure in any of it. He endured every type he was exposed to and later sang its praises for appearances. But there was no love. He only ever purchased what his advisors told him to and only ever looked at them again if he was showing them off.
When Mads had come of age and gained control of the property, his first act had been to take over the collection. Filip hadn’t put up a fight. As long as he could boast of it all being in the family, he was happy to let Mads gather what he would. Mads had worked to refine the collection from the tastes of the general public to his own. He adored each piece, and there were a few that he had been greatly missing. He had left strict instructions for the safekeeping and care of his collection, and only the pieces that could withstand the environment remained within the castle itself.
The second he entered the gallery he was able to breathe once more. The light from a thousand candles glistened off the creations of marble and figures formed by paint. He gazed upon them all, marveling at the artistry around him. In the center of the room, held in pride of place, were two busts. His parents. He had ordered the pieces himself, and the likeness was remarkable. Every line of their faces was just as he remembered. Over time, the busts had become his main source of reference for family memory.
The door opened behind him, and he turned toward the sound. His heart stammered when Willow entered. The long tangles of her dark brown hair were pulled into her usual messy bun atop her head, but nothing else was her normal attire.
The empire dress was a mass of flowing, golden silk that complemented and highlighted her skin. It exposed the expanse of her long neck and the slope of her shoulders. It was a sight that Mads had never seen before since she was always hidden under the flow of her long-sleeved shirts.
Willow shivered and pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders. It snapped Mads out of his reverie, and he hurried toward her.
“You are cold.”
“No kidding.”
He stripped off his jacket and pulled it tightly around her shoulders before she could protest. He fussed with the material until it covered her shoulders and curled around her neck. He found it a lot easier to breathe when she was properly covered.
“This dress is impractical for this area,” he said as he buttoned the jacket into place.
“Don’t you need this jacket?”
“I am accustomed to the cold.”
“Mads?”
He flicked his eyes up to meet her gaze.
“Can you hold on a second so I can get my arms through the sleeves? This is starting to feel kind of like a straitjacket.”
Mads’ brow furrowed. It took him a second to realize that he had been pulling the jacket tight enough that her arms were pinned to her sides.
“My apologies,” he said as he took a few steps back.
“It’s fine.” Willow chuckled as she slid her arms through the sleeves. An amused smile remained on her face as she looked around them. “This is not the dining hall.”
He watched her for a moment with little else to say but, “No.”
“That would be?”
“Two floors down in the east wing.”
“East wing,” she mouthed with a laugh as she studied her surroundings with more interest.
“Wow, look at this place.” She glanced at him and twirled a finger around in the air by her head. He couldn’t tell if she was mocking him or Natalie when she said, “Do you mind if I take a turn about the room?”
The side of his lips quirked as he nodded his permission. She began to walk at a leisurely pace. Mads followed her, finding it oddly fascinating to watch her attention flicker from one piece to the next, attempting to decipher which of his collection held the most interest for her.
“Do you know much about art?” he asked.
“I know what I like,” she shrugged. “Beyond that, not much. Sorry.”
“Not at all,” Mads smiled. “I prefer raw appreciation to critical analysis.”
“But this is a beautiful collection.”
“This is not the entirety of my collection.”
“Of course, it’s not,” she smiled. “According to Dwayne, you have multiple castles to fill. Seriously, why do you need more than one?”
“I inherited most of them.”
“And the others?”
“Property is a good investment.”
Willow shook her head and continued to walk. Mads watched her closely, finding it hard to banish his smile as she marveled over what he had worked so hard to gather. It created an odd sense of warmth deep in the pit of his stomach that he didn’t care to analyze at the moment.
For a while, the only sounds in the room were the clicking of their shoes and the soft swish of Willow’s dress. They stood close enough so that Mads could feel the material brush against his legs.
“Wow,” she breathed the word and rushed forward to a statue that was one of his favorites.
Carved out of marble, it displayed the figure of a woman, her eyes and hands cast up, frozen in a moment of rapture. The remarkable work and detail made it appear as if a flimsy sheet of gauze was draped over her naked form. Even the veins of her hands were perfectly recreated.
“This is amazing,” Willow smiled.
“They believe it was created in 415 BC.”
Willow reached out and traced her fingertips over the curves and dips, as if unable t
o believe that it wasn’t really fabric until she had felt it herself.
Mads allowed long enough for her to be satisfied before he spoke. “Please don’t touch the artwork.”
“Right, sorry.” She cringed. “It’s a personality flaw. When I see something that interests me, I just have to touch it.”
“It is fine,” he said.
“This is an incredible collection,” she said as she began to walk again.
“I am glad that it meets with your approval,” Mads said with warmth. “It is nice to share this with someone who has an innocent love of beauty.”
“Is that what I have?”
“You surround yourself with it enough.”
Willow scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I know that I’ve been coming by the office a lot more often but–”
Mads held out a hand stomach high, bringing her to a stop and silencing her words.
“Are you saying that I hire a great deal of beautiful men or that you consider me to be a beauty?”
A strange choking sound worked its way out of her throat for a moment before it morphed into a laugh.
“Oh, no. There is no way I can answer that question that wouldn’t end up with Dwayne annoying me for a few dozen years. So instead, I am walking away.”
She brushed aside his hand and strode away swiftly, like she could outrun the question. He watched her every step, the layers of gold swaying like an ocean tide. It added a grace to her movements, along with a peaceful and alluring serenity that drew him to her side again.
Mads had been so captivated with her movements that it took him a moment to realize what she was heading toward. His steps quickened to catch up with her just as she reached out to touch the bust of his father. Latching onto both of her hands, he yanked her back. She stumbled and tripped until she smacked against his chest.
“Do not touch them.”
“Right. You just said that. Sorry.”
Still, he secured her hands against his chest, refusing to release his grip. Willow eyed him with concern but didn’t try to remove her hands.
“I’ll be good. I know most of this stuff is priceless.”
“They are my parents,” he said in a sudden breath. The confession caught him more off guard than it did her, and the force of it struck them both dumb.
“Your parents?”
“When they went missing.” His words broke with a sudden, bitter laugh. “It has been more than a decade, and I still speak of it like a hopeful child.” His fingers tightened around her hands as he fortified himself and forced out the words. “They are dead. Most assuredly. In all likelihood, they did not survive more than a few hours after we were separated. But their bodies were never recovered.”
“Mads, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to tell me.”
“I want to. I want you to understand,” he said. “Filip had a plot erected in their memory. All I remember of that day was a thousand people asking me questions and snapping photographs. People I had never met before were talking over me or giving me plush toys. What they thought I would do with them, I have no idea. But, I just…I have been unable to put those memories aside. I needed a place where I could think about them, and not as broken shadows of the past. I needed a proper place to mourn.”
“So, you made this place.”
“I have made many like it. But this one is special. It was a great comfort for me while I was alone here. When all the possibilities tormented me. I am sorry if I was abrupt.”
“Mads,” Willow sighed. “About my ex.”
“Willow,” he said with a twinge of warning.
“I can go see him by myself. I know I can handle it. The weird hold he had on me has long since passed. I can do it.”
“We will go when I can find the time.”
“You keep putting it off.”
Mads waited for his anger to surge forward, as it always did when someone approached the topic of his parents, but all he felt was the sick sensation of falling. He pulled Willow’s hands higher, pressing the soft skin of her curled fingers to his chin.
The scent of a thousand flowers and rich earth lingered on Willow, engrained so deeply into her skin that it always remained. The smell was a link. A trace back to something better. Something that existed beyond the dark and dank. Beyond this personal layer of hell. Closing his eyes, Mads breathed deeply and let the reminder settle into his bones.
“I would do anything you ask of me. So please, do not ask. Not now.”
“Okay.” There was a breathy note to her voice that filled his head with static. “I’ll stop pushing.”
“Thank you, Willow.”
Turning his head slightly to the side, he pressed his face more firmly against the palm of her hand. The skin was like ice against his lips, and he took one more deep breath before he was forced to face reality again.
“Your hands are so cold.”
“My dress isn’t practical.”
He chuckled. “Why did you ever bring that?”
“I didn’t. My suitcase somehow got ruined, and this was the only thing Natalie could find in my size.”
Reality snapped back with enough force to make him stagger back. “Natalie?”
“Yeah.”
What was she up to? The question came into Mads’ mind and was instantly answered. She was toying with him, attempting to provoke a reaction, and perhaps she had already succeeded.
“Have I been dragged into some kind of family tiff?”
“We will be late for dinner,” Mads said quickly.
“Mads?”
“They cannot eat without the master of the house.”
He could feel Willow’s eyes on his back as he walked out the door.
“Mads!”
Chapter Six
The table was set with an extravagant display of fine china and sparkling crystal. It was Mads’ habit to eat each meal with Natalie. It was a completely unnecessary practice that took time away from her far more productive pursuits, but she endured. Partly because he requested so little from her, but mostly because he was always punctual. This was the first time she had ever been left waiting.
Dwayne and Andrea amused themselves at the other end of the table, their whispered conversation only broken by annoyingly loud laughter. Jamie was armed with his travel guide of Scotland and a map and was engrossed with making notes of where he wanted to go once this whole matter was settled.
Natalie had worried that this would leave Jai and herself at the mercy of an awkward silence. But when half an hour had passed and Mads still hadn’t shown up, Jai had produced a book from God knows where and had easily settled back into his chair. Natalie watched him closely. He couldn’t possibly be as relaxed as he appeared. There was no way. She had not miscalculated. Jai was attracted to her. He wanted her. And she had just rejected him.
Was he waiting her out? Using his silence to try and conjure up some kind of guilt within her? It was insufferable. Intolerable. But still, his damnable eyes remained on the page, skimming back and forth and never venturing toward her. They gave away none of his secrets. The longer he waited, the more of his frustration and misery he was sure to rain down upon her. Was he waiting until the guests arrived tomorrow? Did he wish to shame her with witnesses?
“Jai?”
He responded with a soft hum. It was a sound that let her know that he was listening but that she didn’t have his full attention. Did he honestly think she would fall for such a pathetic ploy?
“Jai?”
Using his finger as a bookmark, Jai closed his book and spared her a glance.
“Natalie?”
Their position at the table and the other’s self-imposed distractions gave them a small measure of privacy.
“I would appreciate it if you simply say whatever you need to now, instead of waiting for company.”
He crooked an eyebrow. “What are you going on about?”
Anger spiked through her. “You’re being insufferable.”
“I’m reading,” he
corrected as he reopened the book.
“Now you have become petulant.”
Jai had the nerve to look amused. “Natalie, whatever you think is happening right now, it only exists in your brain. I have no plans, schemes, plots, or anything to say. I just want to read my book.”
“Do you honestly expect me to believe that?”
Jai had already reopened his book. “I am just reading.”
Natalie leaned closer to him and lowered her voice into a harsh whisper. “I will discover what your intentions are, and I will foil them.”
A burst of laughter escaped him as he looked back up to her. “Am I your nemesis now?”
“Hardly. A nemesis must actually pose a decent challenge.”
“So, I’m not a threat but you’re treating me like one? That’s sane.”
Natalie’s response was interrupted when the servant came to the table with the first trays.
“The master of the house is not ready,” she said sharply.
“Wait,” Dwayne cut in. “You’re sending the food away? Who sends food away? This is madness, woman!”
Natalie glared at him, and he forced a tense smile.
“I mean, this is madness, Baroness!”
“My lady.” The servant tried to regain her attention.
“What is it?”
“Mr. Latvis has arrived.”
“I am aware. You are a few hours too late with the news,” she huffed.
“No, my lady. Not Count Latvis. Mr. Latvis.”
“Filip?” she asked with a growing sense of dread.
“Yes, my lady.”
“What’s wrong with your uncle being here?” Jai whispered to her.
“Mads is not going to like this.” She shuffled in her chair. “He has not had time to properly prepare himself.”
Jai’s brow furrowed as concern seeped into his eyes.
“Dearest niece,” Filip said as he came in through the door. A charming smile was plastered on his face, as ever present and fake as a rattlesnake’s. “It has been far too long.” A spark entered his eyes as he continued, “Now, where is my delightful nephew?”
Chapter Seven
Jai remained seated, caught between being stunned and curious as he watched Filip make his way across the room. Mads didn’t talk much about his family, but Filip had merited a few mentions, mostly accompanied by an array of Lithuanian swear words. With just Mads’ descriptions to go by, Jai had expected something more. Almost like the Grinch mixed with actual scum and possibly a vampire. The demonic, creepy kind.
