Page 62 of Pride and Privilege

He looked as relieved at the subject change as she was. With a slight laugh, he ran a hand through his hair and said, “She thinks Elliott Carter-Hall is out to destroy me.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

“Destroy the whole family,”he added, which didn’t do much to fade the alarm in Poppy’s eyes. “He’s a journalist,” he explained. “Cassie works with him at the paper. He normally covers UK politics, but she says he’s been working on something to do with finance recently. An investigative piece. She doesn’t know the details. They’re not exactly on friendly terms.”

“Is that why he came to meet you the other day? He’s investigating you? BlacktonGold?”

“I think so. Sniffing around, anyway. His whole family has accounts with us. It’s the perfect cover to ask some questions.”

“He was asking about ESGs. Environmentally friendly investment options. Ethical funds. Is that what he’s writing about?”

“Maybe. Cassie wasn’t sure.” Roscoe scratched his jaw, thinking it through. “There is a lot of greenwashing that goes on. Our so-called ethical funds probably aren’t as clean as they could be. It’s something I wanted to work on, actually. Tightening upthe criteria. Doing a bit more due diligence on it all. There’s so much potential for a truly ethical investment framework…”

Not that his dad would ever give him the go-ahead. Waste of time and money, in George Blackton’s opinion. But if that’s what clients wanted. If it’s what the entire bloody worldneeded…

“Why though?” Poppy asked. “Why would Elliott Carter-Hall want to attack you? His dad’s friends with yours.”

“Yeah. But us kids have never been that close. David and Elliott are a few years older. They grew up in Devon, we grew up in Lancashire. Practically the other end of the country. I hardly know them at all, to be honest. My dad and Andrew do most of their socialising down here in London, at their club or wherever.”

“But he hates you because…?”

Roscoe grimaced. “There’s some bad blood between my brother and Elliott’s brother. I’m not sure anyone really cares about it that much, but Elliott is…kind of intense. It’s the only thing I can think of. Cassie might have the wrong end of the stick, anyway. She has her own…history with the Carter-Halls. Now she seems to have got into some kind of feud with Elliott. I think she’s determined to think the worst of him.”

There was a pause while Poppy digested all that. She shifted in her seat. Roscoe’s eyes got as far as her knees, but he chickened out of meeting her eyes.

“I don’t want to be childish about things. But I also don’t want to get hurt.”

He had fucked up so badly. And he had no excuse other than the fact he hadwantedher so badly. Enough to forget all his common sense. All his scruples and principles and good intentions. Until it was too late.

“So you don’t think we need to worry about finding horses’ heads on our pillows?” Poppy asked. “It’s not that kind of family feud?”

He chuckled. And his brain seized on the wordsweandour like a starving dog thrown a pork chop.We don’t need to worry…

“No. More likely Hugo and I just won’t ever get invited down to Beaford Court ever again. Which isn’t much loss.”

“That’s their house, is it?” Poppy asked, her voice teasing. “Beaford Court?”

“Yes, Poppy. It’s an absolutely enormous stately home down in Devon. Mr Darcy would have wept.”

She chuckled. “Is you watching that film like me watching EastEnders?”

“Film? Please. I read the book.”

She grinned at that. Muttered, “Of course,” and he sat there watching the amusement play over her face while his brain completely forgot to come up with something to say next. His stomach prompted him.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. “I know it’s late, but I haven’t had dinner.”

He hadn’t eaten much all day, his stomach in knots. But he felt better now that Poppy was here. Talking to him. Smiling at him. Saying things likeweandour.

Maybe they really could move on from his stupidity last night. As she had pointed out, they had already recovered from a similar misstep. Somehow managed to become friends. If he could handle this situation with even half the class she was, he felt optimistic they could continue being friends. And he would conquer his desperate attraction to her. Find a way to get rid of it. Or learn to live with it.

“I haven’t really kept the fridge stocked while I’ve been at the flat,” he said. “But I could order something?”

She hesitated, and his heartbeat paused, too, while he waited for her answer.

“Sure,” she said. “Free food. Why not?”

Poppy was very, very, very weak. Colossally stupid. She ought to be avoiding the man. Keeping a professional, emotionally safe distance.But, her idiot brain argued back.But…

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