Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
I didn’t think she was headed to the Cherry Suite.
I thought it was highly likely she had a few things to say after Stevenson sacked Brittany.
Ian turned his attention to me. “You’re moving to the Hawthorn Suite.”
There you go.
Figured.
Twenty-Two
THE BEDROOM
I was pacing.
Ian had gone to do something, telling me he’d be “right back.”
He was not “right back.”
I was in his bedroom.
Alone.
I was okay with that. This was a much more populated wing, and as far as I knew, everyone in the house was awake. Anyway, on the way there (by the way, I didn’t walk there—get this, Ian carried me) I did not fail to note that it seemed like every light in Duncroft had been switched on.
Ian finally stalked in, carrying one of those ice packs with a screw top. It was blue.
“You’re out of bed,” he growled, sounding ferociously pissed.
Yes, he carried me right to his bed. Then he tucked me in and everything.
But, obviously, I got out.
“I couldn’t sit still,” I replied.
That made him look more pissed.
But he approached me, and for once, I wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
Yes, he was that pissed.
“It’s probably too late to do anything about the swelling, but we’re going to try,” he announced.
Even with his mood, when he used the side of his fist under my chin to move my head so he could look at my temple, his touch was remarkably gentle.
“Not bad, not great,” he said to my wound, then again gently, he placed the ice on it. “Hold that there as long as you can.”
I lifted my hand to take the bag. “What’s happening?”
“I’m sorry, darling. I had to stop and try to talk Dad out of pressing charges. Then I wondered why I’d try to stop that, Bonnie got me your ice, and here we are.”
“Pressing charges for what?”
He stared at me like I’d gone temporarily insane.
“It’s unhinged what she did, and I’d like to understand why she did it,” I went on. “But I’m uncertain the police need to be involved. Though, maybe a psychologist.”
“She’s an ex of Daniel’s.”
My mouth dropped open, and I left it hanging that way.
“Yes,” he grunted. “Daniel ended it, but apparently she had some pictures of him. I believe the kids refer to them these days as dick pics?”
I kept the ice where it was but still looked to the ceiling and prayed for Daniel’s salvation, and maybe for someone to give him some brains in his head, not solely housing them in some other organ.
I did this by using the words, “Oh my God.”
“Mm-hmm,” Ian agreed. “She lives in the village. Not a lot of opportunity there. She demanded he get her a position here. Blackmail. He leaned on Stevenson when Maggie got pregnant and quit to get married and move to Newcastle. This still left why she targeted you a mystery, until Dad started threatening the police. She then confessed the get-up was supposed to be used on Portia, but Portia was never alone at night. She heard talk of what happened to you last night and decided it was the perfect atmosphere to make her play. Since you’re Portia’s sister, she figured, if she scared the absolute fuck out of you, this would cause you to leave, and Portia would leave in camaraderie. I’ve no idea why she’d want to send Portia away. Possibly jealousy, possibly sour grapes. It doesn’t matter. In the end, it was you who got the Dorothy Clifton treatment.”
There was nothing else I could do but let out a massive sigh.
Therefore, that was what I did.
“Are things settling down?” I asked after I did it.
“No. Dad is beside himself. I’ve never seen him so angry. Stevenson blames himself. Danny feels like shit, and I want to say he deserves it. That was fucked up, what he did. We all know we don’t meddle with staffing. It takes a great deal to run this house and none of us have the skills. But Stevenson was up against the wall, the earl’s son asking him a favor and to keep it confidential. Even with all that, Daniel could never know she’d do something so radically bizarre.”
“This is true,” I muttered.
“Portia is pissed at Danny, as she would be. Brittany’s been doing her hair.”
Now I was pissed.
That woman was doing my sister’s hair?
“This is a disaster,” I snapped.
“Agreed. Mum tore a few strips off Brittany. We exclusively get our meat at the local butcher in the village. Our groceries from the small market there. Mum’s flower arrangements from the florist when our garden is out of season or when she’s throwing a party. Stevenson even orders our liquor through the off-license. It isn’t like it used to be, where that village was almost entirely dependent on us in one way or another, but it’s not ancient history that Duncroft puts more than a small amount of coin in their pockets. And the village wouldn’t even be there if it wasn’t for Duncroft. We not only endowed the school and library, we built both. And that ambulance service that could get here so quickly for Lou?”