Page 42 of Broken Truths

Before my guard can even ask to approve her entrance, I give him the green light. Moments later, I inform my cook to bring a tray of hors d’oeuvres and await her arrival.

Her footsteps sound, and I get to my feet, striding confidently toward the entrance to the room. “Mrs. Astor,” I say as soon as I see her. “Welcome. Thank you for coming to meet me under these difficult circumstances.”

Instead of black, she’s wearing a dark navy dress with a floppy hat that I absolutely despise. At one point, I’d wanted her for Leonardo’s father, but he was determined to ruin his life for something he called love.

Rebecca has always known the way of this world, though. She would have been a far better match for a Jarvis than his whore.

Agitation slices through me, even after all these years.

“It was so nice to receive your invitation, Franklin. I was worried everyone would forget about me now that my Alistair is dead.”

“Of course not. You’ll always have a seat at my table.” At that, I turn and gesture toward the round, cherry-wood antique. She walks ahead of me, and my gaze drops to her ass. The fabric hugs her waist, and I let out a breath. They always dress as if we won’t be able to think with our rational brains.

Stupid, insufferable whores.

Her husband is barely cold, and here she is dressing like this and accepting an invitation from another man. Just goes to show you how insipid the female sex is.

I hold out her chair for her, and she sits, pulling the strap of her purse off her shoulder and placing it in her lap.

Mrs. Astor is now in a precarious position. Which could be the very reason why someone killed her husband. Even though it wasn’t me, it doesn’t mean I won’t be the first to jump at the chance to secure any good that I can. Business or otherwise.

A servant comes in with a nickel-plated tray, setting it in the center of the table. Just after him, another body enters, placing two glass pitchers on the table—one of water and one of iced tea.

“Help yourself,” I tell her as the men leave.

She grabs herself a small plate and loads it with the appropriate amount of crackers and fruit. “Might I?” she asks, offering it to me first.

I accept the plate from her. Yes, she knows her job very well. This might be easy. “Thank you.”

She fills her own plate, and while she’s preoccupied, I study her profile. Her makeup is a tad darker than usual, making me think it’s possible she has been in the throes of grief while at home. There’s not a single hair out of place, though. Her outfit was meticulously chosen, showing modesty with a hint of sexy.

There are many, many things that I want from Mrs. Astor. I only have to unravel in which way I will be taking them.

“You must be overwhelmed with paperwork since Alistair’s death. If you need help, don’t be afraid to ask.”

She stares at the plate for a while, her throat working. “His lawyer is truly remarkable. He’s been a dream to work with.” A sigh escapes her lips. “Though everything seems to be well taken care of at the moment, I do fear the con artists will see me as easy prey and come calling.”

I smirk at that. “Should they be worried, Mrs. Astor?”

Her cheeks blush slightly. “I fear no one but the snakes in the grass. Of course Alistair properly vetted everyone, but something like this shakes faith in people.”

I press my lips together. “Might I speak plainly, Mrs. Astor?”

“You’re very welcome to.”

I nod once. I won’t be telling her something she doesn’t know but giving her this well-placed advice might endear her to me. “You need another man at the helm as soon as possible. Whether you hire someone as savvy as your husband who you know will have your best interests at heart or you remarry or...” My toes curl in my shoes. I wasn’t sure how I would play this, but it seems right. “You could marry your youngest off to a fine man who will take over the Astor holdings.”

She laughs. “Eden? She’s so young.” The mirth dies on her lips when she finds my expression unchanged. “I’m not sure who her prospects would be. I’m well aware of my daughter’s reputation in social circles.”

“That could all be forgiven now, considering the circumstances.” I sit back. “In fact, now that I’ve thought about it, I think this might be your best course of action. Your youngest was always going to be a hard sell, but her father’s death might have been the best thing for her. Look at all she will bring to the table now.”

Mrs. Astor fidgets in her chair. “I suppose. I know that Alistair had an arrangement with Forbes after—” She clears her throat. “After my Delilah died.”

My hands involuntarily clench into fists, and I have to focus to get them to relax. “Keegan would be an appropriate choice. Is there a contract in place?”

“Leon has already reached out to me. I asked him to send all the documents to the lawyer. I know Eden wasn’t happy when she learned of this, but...” She peers my way, pausing a moment. “She’ll do what’s asked of her.”

I can tell she doesn’t believe what she’s just said. Eden Astor... She’s become such a pain in my ass. More than any young woman has the right to be.

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