Page 14 of Princess of Pride
His lawyer takes over, explaining that we’re to sign on the tablets first then move to the documents, which are as thick as a fantasy romance box set.
By the time we’re done, over an hour has passed. I asked alot of questions. The lawyer answered each in layman’s terms, which annoyed my dad.
I understood the lawyer's explanations. Nothing seemed unusual. I know Pippa’s life. It’s a standard arrangement.
My fingers ache from holding the pen so tightly. I stretch and flex them. I didn’t write this much in college. Everything was typed on my laptop.
Dad stands as do the other men at the table. He reaches over with a big smile on his face and shakes hands with Lachlan. “Welcome to the family.”
“I’m honored,” Lachlan replies with a hint of a smile.
I push to my feet and Dad walks over, swallowing me up in a big embrace. In my ear, he whispers, “You made me very proud today.”
I hug him back, but I don’t feel his same sentiment. This is what makes him proud. Not when I graduated at the top of my class in boarding school. Not when I won first place more than once in Show Jumping. Not when I got accepted into Amherst College, a little Ivy—the only college he’d let me attend because it’s small and meant less trouble for him.
I hold in my sigh until he releases me and turns away, walking to the mini bar to make a toast for everyone.
The lawyers pack up as Dad fills four tumblers with his favorite Scotch Whisky. He waves the men over, and they join him for a toast while I stand alone by my chair. I wait to see if Lachlan will eye me or invite me over. Nope. They are too busy enjoying the liquor and celebrating themselves. Turning on my Jimmy Choo espadrille heel, I exit the room, my shoulders slumped. Mom would kill me if she saw me with such bad posture.
As I walk down the hallway, I glance at my bare ring finger. I guess this means no engagement for me, now that I’m marriedon paper.
Hunt presented Pippa with a ring just before their engagement party. Neither knew I was around the corner. I hadn’t planned to eavesdrop. I was bringing my sister her earrings, which she’d forgotten in her nervousness, and snapped at me to hurry and fetch.
The party was at the house, but we were on the east side where Mom and Dad hosts celebrations in the ballroom. Knowing my sister would have a hissy fit and tell my mom I was to blame for upsetting her on such an important evening, I tore off my heels and ran to the other side of the house. As the maid of honor—a position I was forced into—it was my job to do everything and remember everything for Pippa until she was married, according to Mom.
Candace saw me from where she was dusting and barked at me to slow down. I ignored the crotchety older lady and ran faster. She’d been barking at me since I was three. Did she think I was going to start listening now?
By the time I reached Pippa’s bedroom, I could barely catch my breath. The earrings were in plain sight where I’d sat them on her vanity. I scooped them up in my free hand while the other gripped my shoes, took a moment to inhale much-needed oxygen, and then raced back to Pippa.
I’d just reached the private room outside of the ballroom, where she waited when I heard her gasp. Hunt was down on one knee—the man stood at six-three and had a hulk physique that did nothing for me, but Pippa likes his size. I wasn’t sure if he was capable of tenderness considering he looked like a Navy Seal in a suit, but the smile he gave her when he slipped the diamond rock onto her finger melted all my anger toward my tyrant entitled sister.
That moment combined with the way Hunt gazed adoringly at Pippa on their wedding day, gave me hope. Until she got pregnant with a boy—which he confirmed throughan early blood test—and he revealed his true nature. A womanizing, self-centered narcissist who treats Pippa like a dog. A very well-kept dog, but a dog, nonetheless.
His mocking voice sounds in my head. “Here, Pippa. Praise me, Pippa. Smile at the cameras for me. Look the part for me. Watch me parade around with my mistress while you bake my heir in your belly.”
At least with Lachlan I have zero expectations other than I’ll have to try to get pregnant when he decides the time is right. That is how it was worded in the document. I asked for a ballpark number.
“Are we talking one year, two?” It’s my uterus after all.
“Yes,” he answered, and the lawyers moved on.
After staying with Pippa when I was cut off financially and homeless, I saw a carbon copy of Mom’s marriage, where the wife is left hurt and longing for a man who doesn’t feel the same.
Pippa was so stressed she started cramping and feared losing the baby. She also wasn’t such a bitch anymore. We bonded in a way we never have, and I was happy to help in some small way. I want to be a great aunt to my nephew. Given my new circumstances, I could have a baby a couple of years younger than hers.
I stop walking and glance at my flat stomach, clueless to what it’d be like to have a growing baby inside me. I don’t even know Lachlan. Will we be close by the time he wants to conceive one? Will we be good parents?
It’s too much at once. I can’t go down that path, I’ve only just started down this new one.
“Emery?” Mom calls from inside the room a few feet ahead. It’s a Jane Austen inspired space where she holds her book club meetings.
I freeze, not wanting to pass by the slightly opened double doors and risk her seeing me.
“Emery?” she calls again.
I don’t move or breathe.
“Candace,” Mom grumbles. “You said my daughter was in the hallway. Go find her.”
