Page 105 of Love is a Harmony
Noah stood and walked to the couch to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead before heading out into the hall. The study was in the east wing, far from the sitting room. Noah used the walk to clear his head, to prepare himself for whatever it was they had to say.
By the time he reached the double mahogany doors, he was ready for them. He knocked twice and waited. After a few moments, his mother opened the door, a dour expression on her face.
“Come in, Noah.”
He followed her into the spacious study. Windows lined the back wall, looking out on the stables. Wooden bookshelves spanned every inch of wall, and a carved wooden desk sat in the center of the room with two leather chairs in front of it.
Carmichael Clarke sat in a high-backed chair, his fingers steepled on the desk, and his piercing eyes settled on Noah. “Son.”
Noah swallowed the intimidation he’d always felt as a kid. He was a man now. “Father.”
“Take a seat.” Noah didn’t argue. He lowered himself into one of the chairs as his mother took the other. “The staff tells us you have barely spoken to anyone other than that girl of yours—”
“You mean your granddaughter?”
He continued without missing a beat. “They say you do not eat most of your meals.”
“I’m touched you care.”
His father scowled. “Tomorrow is an important day for our family.”
“Yes, we bury my brother.”
His mother cleared her throat. “Noah, there will be many important people here. This is not the time for sullen behavior.”
“Sullen behavior? You mean grief?” Noah shot to his feet. “Sod it, you two are unbelievable. Do you even care that he is gone?”
“Noah,” his father snapped. “Sit. Down.”
Noah did as his father commanded.
His mother’s expression softened just the slightest bit. “Of course we care. Carson was our son, Noah. He also chose to leave us many years ago. We mourned him then. We did not operate under the illusion he’d come back as you did. Tomorrow is not about Carson. It is about our family.”
“Our family?” Noah muttered. “What family?” He shook his head. “Just tell me why you have called me here.”
His father rubbed his chin. “We have expectations for how the Clarke family acts, the public face we show. We know you do not hold yourself to these standards in your career, but while you are representing this family, you will dress and act accordingly. Your mother has chosen outfits for both you and the girl for tomorrow. It is up to you to make sure she shows grace. We do not need a crying child on display.”
A crying child? Noah had always known how callous his parents were, how ill-equipped for kids, but he’d hoped they’d changed, that they wouldn’t treat Stella with the same disregard they’d shown their own sons.
Noah’s jaw clenched as he stared at them. All anger toward Carson ebbed away because he understood everything now. Carson protected Stella from a life in this family, a life both Carson and Noah had run from.
And it was up to Noah to protect her now.
He stood, fire burning in his eyes.
“We are not finished, Noah.” His mother looked tired, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Yes, we are.” He walked away from them without looking back, slamming the doors and almost running into a startled Kinkaide.
“Sir.” Kinkaide jumped back.
Noah wasn’t sure if it was an admonishment or an exclamation of surprise. “What?”
Kinkaide collected himself. “There are visitors at the door who claim to know you. I have not allowed them into the manor.”
Noah didn’t have time for paparazzi or fans who’d found their way to him. He wanted to punch someone or throw something. He brushed by Kinkaide, ready to give whoever it was an earful.
He sped up and yanked the front door open, stopping in his tracks as he took in the two men sitting on the front steps with small bags beside them.
