Cunning Page 27

  “They’re stunning and distinctive. Sometimes, when you didn’t know I watched you, I saw shadows. I still do.”

  I tried unsuccessfully to look away, but his hold wouldn’t budge. He was right. I hated how well Nox knew me without my telling him. I’d never considered myself to be transparent. Nevertheless, Nox saw inside of me, into my soul.

  “I wondered about them,” he went on. “How does someone as young and successful as you have shadows? I believe whatever you’re about to tell me will answer at least part of that question.”

  I nodded. “You have them too. I saw them yesterday.”

  “I do.” His chest inflated and deflated. “Charli, I won’t rush you. Our agreement doesn’t exist. Don’t go anyplace to find the answers. I want you to wait until you’re ready, until you’re strong enough.”

  “I’m not going…”

  He touched my temple. “In there. Don’t go there.” Then he touched my heart. His hand lingered, not sexually, but reverently. “Or in here. If you’ve buried things for a reason, don’t uncover them until you can.”

  Suddenly, Nox let go of me as the stench of burning toast reminded us of our sandwiches.

  “Shit!” I exclaimed as I turned back to the stove and moved the pan away from the hot burner.

  Nox pulled two plates from the cupboard, and I scooped the sandwiches from the pan and plopped them on the plates, placing the golden brown side facing up.

  I pursed my lips as I used the spatula to lift one corner of the sandwich and peek at the darker side. “That was your fault.”

  “Mine? You’re the one claiming culinary genius.”

  “You distracted me.”

  He took the spatula from my hand and examined it closely. “Hmm. I just had an idea.”

  Snatching it away, I said, “I have one too. It involves wine. I’ll take our sandwiches to the balcony.”

  Nox’s sandwich was gone and mine was half-eaten when he refilled my glass of merlot.

  “I guess it wasn’t inedible?” I asked.

  He grinned. “Well… I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

  “Fine. Keep the cook. I have studying that I need to be doing anyway.”

  He reached for the remaining half of my sandwich and asked, “Are you going to eat this?”

  “I was.”

  Tearing it in half, he handed me back the quarter. “I was hungrier than I realized and your cooking is divine. Now, onto whatever you were about to say in the kitchen before we were distracted by smoke.”

  I did my best glare, sending pretend daggers his way before nibbling another bite of my sandwich. As I washed it down with a hearty drink of wine, I formulated my response. “My mother’s maiden name is Montague.” I stopped, waiting to see if it registered.

  Does he know the name? Will it matter?

  For what seemed like the longest time, he didn’t move, not even a blink. Then he stood and walked to the clear banister with the silver railing and turned his back toward me.

  “Montague?” he asked, looking out onto the city’s lights. “I don’t suppose Shakespeare wrote a play about your family?”

  “Different Montagues, I believe.”

  He turned around, his arms crossed over his chest. The position pulled the seams of his shirt, straining them against his shoulders. “As in Montague Corporation—tobacco.”

  “Yes.”

  Nox’s demeanor tensed. Just as quickly he seemed to see me. “You’re the fucking heir to Montague Corporation and some asshole investors lost your trust fund? Why the hell didn’t your family’s legal team sue their ass? Why hasn’t it been replaced? How the fuck did you end up at Infidelity?”

  Each of his questions came louder than the one before.

  I didn’t respond at first. I didn’t have the answers. I also didn’t cry. I’d cried too many tears. Finally, I said, “It wasn’t lost. It was reallocated. Deloris offered to look into it for me.”

  Nox ran his hand over the scruff of his face. “Reallocated? Deloris knows about this, but I didn’t?”

  “Deloris… well…” I shrugged. “…Deloris knows everything.”

  Nox nodded.

  “I-I didn’t want to talk about it,” I continued. “It’s still too raw.”

  The way his broad shoulders relaxed relayed his understanding. “I won’t rush you, but you know, with Deloris and Demetri resources…”

  “Please don’t. I don’t want to need them.”

  After a prolonged silence, Nox asked, “My father knows your mother?”

  “I guess. It surprised me, too.”

  “Your mother will be here tomorrow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does she know what happened to your trust fund?”

  “Yes.” I finished the glass of wine and left it on the table as I walked toward him. His arms uncrossed in a silent invitation. The beat of his heart strengthened me. I craned my neck upward. “She knows because she sat there and watched as Satan himself took it from me.”

  Nox’s embrace tensed, and then he rested his chin on the top of my head. “You don’t need it, princess.” He moved me to arm’s length and looked at me curiously. “You are a princess, by American standards.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve never felt like one, not until I met you.”

  He brought me back to his chest. “You don’t need the shadows or the devil… Satan, Lucifer, Alton Fitzgerald, or whatever name he goes by these days.”

  Every cell in my body went rigid. “You know him?”

  “Not personally, but Montague Corporation has a reputation. Your stepfather is part of that.”

  I sighed. My temples throbbed, but my conscience was clear.

  “Your schooling is secure,” Nox reassured. “And you don’t owe me anything except clear golden eyes for as long as you’re willing to share them.”

  I looked up at the handsome man holding me in his arms. “If you keep saying sweet things like that, I may let you sleep in my room.”

  His chest rumbled with welcome laughter.

  “You know,” I went on, “if I’m a princess, I’m pretty sure that makes you Prince Charming.”

  “Not even close.”

  ALEXANDRIA’S PARTY WAS over except for a few remaining gentlemen with Alton in his study. They were talking and laughing. I didn’t need to enter to know they were also drinking. I didn’t care. Part of me hoped they’d continue until after I was asleep, and he was too drunk to notice.

  On my way to our suite, I passed the kitchen and reminded the staff to clean each room as well as the patio. I had few responsibilities: the manor and the household staff were two of them. When we woke in the morning, if so much as a stray glass was found, I’d be the one to hear about it.

  Other than the little blow-up in Alton’s office, I wanted to think the night was a success. Alton was happy that Senator Higgins and Severus Davis were among the attendees. I didn’t see Marisa Davis tonight. Perhaps she had her own party planned. Not everyone had as open a marriage as those two. I shook my head. The world was changing.

  If only Alexandria would curb her remarks around Alton. The tension between the two of them was thick enough to cut with a knife. Perhaps it was my fault for not insisting that she understand her responsibility as I had. The way I saw it was that times were changing. I wanted—no needed—Alexandria to do her duty and marry Bryce. I didn’t want her to feel trapped. I knew that feeling all too well. Unfortunately, Alton wasn’t familiar with rebuttals and didn’t receive them well.

  As I made my way to the suite, I caught a glimpse of Alexandria and Bryce headed outside.

  In our suite, I slipped out of my dress and heels, and wiggled my toes in the plush carpet of the dressing room. I’d seen the way Alton had looked at Suzanna when we were all in his office. Now with him downstairs drinking, there was a good chance I wouldn’t be wearing my nightgown all night; nevertheless, I planned to enjoy it while I could. Pulling the pink satin over my head, I wrapped my robe around me and washed my face.


  With a glass of Montague Private Collection cabernet in hand, I walked from our suite, down the long second-floor hallway and made my way to the library, more than a little curious about what was happening outside. The second-story windows in the library faced the back of the house.

  Thick draperies hid me from the outside world as I stood at the tall leaded pane and took in the view of outdoors. The black sky sparkled with stars, little white dots shining with zest, competing with the large summer moon. The silvery rays of moonlight illuminated the estate, changing the color of the familiar red earth and green grass. The small lake my great-grandfather commissioned near the turn of the twentieth century shimmered like diamonds in the moonlight.

  I twisted the large rock on my left hand. My mother’s ring was equally as large. Charles Montague II couldn’t allow his wife’s ring to be less than his mother’s. That diamond was secured away, waiting for the day Bryce would put it on Alexandria’s finger. I’d been looking at some of the more modern settings. We could add to the large center stone. When the time came, I planned to ask Bryce what he wanted to do.

  Bringing the glass to my lips, I sipped, watching the two shadowed figures make their way across the expanse of grass to the lake’s edge. Warmth washed through me, the culmination of sacrifice and dedication. The children weren’t standing on the edge of a lake, but on the edge of our future. I couldn’t wait to have Alexandria back under the roof of Montague Manor, back in Savannah and with Bryce.

  Nearly twenty years ago her fate was sealed. I sighed, leaning against the tall window casing. For almost two decades one goal had sustained me, for Montague to be hers. I’ve waited, not quite twenty years for the four of us to be a family. The future was close enough to touch. The anticipation brought hope to my soul and the jitteriness of pure exhilaration as I couldn’t recall feeling.

  My beautiful, intelligent daughter didn’t know that she carried the weight of her family on her shoulders. I hadn’t wanted her to know. I’d wanted her to experience life in a way I never did. When she left for Stanford, I knew it was a temporary reprieve, that eventually she’d be summoned home. I also knew the experience would be good for her. It would help her be stronger.

  Just because her marriage was planned since she was a preschooler didn’t mean she couldn’t play a more vital role. I believed she would. Bryce wasn’t Alton or Charles. He would be a good husband, a loving husband, the kind of man my daughter deserved. It would help that they were friends.

  I was surprised to hear that she and Bryce were never intimate. While Suzy seemed displeased that Alexandria had never—what had she said?—’helped him out,’ I was once again proud of my daughter’s resolve. She did admit she wasn’t a virgin. She’s also almost twenty-four years old. Bryce wasn’t a virgin either.

  I shook my head. I don’t know what that boy was thinking. This would all be much easier if we didn’t have the incident with Melissa Summers hanging over our heads. Then again, it could work in our favor, his plea for her help being the final straw to bring her back.

  In a way, it gave me hope. I could never imagine Alton asking for my help the way Bryce had today, in front of all of us. He was brave and had a good heart.

  I took another glance toward the lake. The two children were standing facing one another. Their silhouettes stood out from the shimmering lake behind them. Bryce didn’t even know the timetable, that by Christmas of next year they must be wed. That was why it was better to push for earlier, maybe this Christmas.

  While the prospect of the impending marriage excited me, there was a twinge of guilt over the loss of Alexandria’s law degree. After all, I was proud of her accomplishments. Being accepted at both Yale and Columbia was impressive. At the same time, Alton was right. It was a waste of money for a degree she’d never use, never need. I’d tried to reason that Montague Corporation had a legal team. She could work for herself. At the very least, it would give her more basis for understanding the workings of Montague, something I’d never been able to do.

  He didn’t agree. Bryce would provide.

  I didn’t correct him, but in actuality, Alexandria’s name would be the provider.

  Their marriage would seal the arrangement I agreed to years ago, but a baby…

  I took another drink.

  …A baby would cement it forever. It would join the Carmichaels and Montagues. Hell, it would join the Carmichaels, Fitzgeralds, and Montagues. Our grandchild would be the purest of blue-blood Southern royalty. Of course, people could only know about the Fitzgerald connection in name. The truth would cause too many problems.

  Bryce was already fighting the accusation of rape and assault. He didn’t need the world to know he was the bastard son of Alton Fitzgerald.

  “Laide.”

  As if thinking his name had summoned the devil himself, my breath caught in my chest. “In the library,” I called, not moving from my hiding place in the drapes.

  Alton’s footsteps reverberated through the large room as he came closer. “What are you doing?”

  In my soft, flat slippers, Alton stood much taller and broader than I, even now with him in his mid-sixties.

  “Shhh.” I reached for his hand and pulled him closer. “Look.”

  He leaned toward the window. “Is that Bryce and Alexandria?”

  “Yes.” I couldn’t contain the smile. “It’s going to work. I can feel it.”

  “Don’t try to change my mind about the trust fund. I let you convince me to allow her to go out west. How many times did she come home during the four years?”

  I swallowed. “She’s home now.”

  “And that mouth of hers. Really, Laide, you should be ashamed of the daughter you raised.”

  The small hairs on the back of my neck prickled. I’d done this dance so many times I could do it in my sleep. Agree with him, let him say his piece, and call it a night. I turned my gaze back to the lake. Pride in my daughter washed through me.

  “I’m not,” I replied.

  “What?”

  I turned back to Alton. “I’m not ashamed. I’m not fighting you about her trust fund. I want her home. That will do it. She’ll learn to adjust, but I’m not ashamed of her.”

  Even in the darkness, I knew his neck and face were turning red. I didn’t need to see the crimson. The color would be muted with only the light of the moon. I could feel it, feel the temperature rising.

  “Of course you’re not,” he said, stepping close to me. The warmth of his growing fury became evident against my breasts. “Tell me why you didn’t prepare her for tonight’s meeting with Bryce and Suzy.” He gripped my arm.

  I didn’t flinch. My eyes stayed locked on his. It was part of the dance.

  “And why you thought it would be a good idea to allow her to embarrass all of us with her insolent responses. All you needed to do was to inform her today while you were out. That’s what you said you were going to do.”

  I kept my tone even. “We were having a nice time. I mentioned that Bryce would be here, but she said she hadn’t spoken to him. I was under the impression they did speak. You made it sound as if they did.”

  He took one last look out the window.

  “Bryce has even made it seem as if they did. How does he know so much about what she’s been doing?”

  When Alton didn’t answer, I added, “Have you told him?”

  “Don’t turn this around on me. You failed. You wonder why I don’t trust you with more things. Jesus, Laide, you can’t seem to handle much more than consuming your body’s weight in wine.”

  I tried not to listen, not to let his words sink in. Instead, I thought about Alexandria, about how close it all was. All the years and it was coming together.

  Once they were married, Montague would be hers and Bryce’s. There were provisions for Alton and me, but my role would be over. It had been years since I’d read the agreement, and I wanted to check with Ralph Porter, but I was pretty sure that once Alexandria was married, I would no longer need to be.


  Alton’s monologue continued down the hallway and into our suite.

  It wasn’t a dialogue. It rarely was.

  “MORE WATER, MISS? Perhaps a drink while you wait?”

  I looked down at my phone again. It wasn’t like my mother to be late. I could easily compile an entire list of faults for Adelaide Montague Fitzgerald, but tardiness wasn’t one of them.

  I considered the offer of alcohol, but decided a clear head should prevail. “No, thank you. The other member of my party should be here any minute.”

  The Rainbow Room was one of the most ostentatious places in Manhattan to have Sunday brunch. I would’ve preferred one of the little restaurants in SoHo or even Tom’s Restaurant, but this was more up my mother’s alley. I wasn’t the least bit surprised when she suggested it. Besides, I couldn’t picture her sitting in a vinyl booth with Formica tabletops, even if it was iconic.

  For a little more privacy as well as a spectacular view of the Empire State Building, I’d requested a table in the lounge. The restaurant was beautiful and newly renovated, but the clatter of diners as well as the gigantic buffet would make our uncomfortable reunion all that more difficult. And in the lounge, Jerrod could sit at the bar and inconspicuously keep his eye on me and everyone around me. Thus far we’d only said a few words to one another, but my new driver slash bodyguard seemed professional and competent. As I glanced his direction and our eyes instantly met, I knew he definitely had the omnipresent thing covered.

  Nox’s revelations as last night continued were borderline humorous. We were almost asleep when he sat up and said, “You have had drivers before, haven’t you?”

  I just laughed and waited for him to lie back down so I could cuddle close.

  Though technically I was penniless, there was something about evening the playing field that was comforting for both of us. There was no doubt I appreciated Nox’s financial support, but his realizing that money wasn’t new to me did something for my self-esteem. Despite the entire Infidelity thing, I wasn’t an expensive whore after his money.

  The sight of my mother being ushered toward me brought me back to present. In the few seconds it took for her to reach my table, I did what I was sure she too was doing: assessing. She looked exactly the same as she did a week ago, the perfect Southern lady properly dressed with her chin held high. Adelaide had the look of complete superiority mastered. The only difference between today and a week ago was that today her eyes were clear, not red or puffy.