Page 127 of Mercy (The Sins Trilogy 3)
“This is what I prepared for you,” Edgar says. “Bobbi’s in the next room, and mine’s at the end of the hall if you need me for anything. Anyway, why don’t you rest and freshen up, Ivy? The heat here can be brutal if you aren’t used to it.”
It’s more than the heat and humidity bothering her. It’s all the ugly memories buried in this damned town. There hasn’t been a single happy flashback. Just what the hell kind of life did she have after Mother took her in?
“Thank you.” Ivy smiles wanly. “I think I’ll do that.”
I start to take her inside, but Edgar stops me with a look that says he needs to talk to me. Damn it. Does it have something to do with Mother?
Ivy notices my hesitation and the expression on Edgar’s face. “I’d love some privacy to freshen up.”
She’s being brave, but I’m torn anyway. I didn’t bring her to Tempérane only to abandon her. My nerves are taut, anxiety shimmering at the edge of my mind. This is Mother and Caleb’s turf.
Ivy pats my hand. “I’ll be fine. Really.”
“I’ll stay with her,” Bobbi says.
There’s no way to insist on staying back without looking ridiculous. Edgar takes me to the sitting room we passed by and offers me whiskey. I’d take half the bottle if I didn’t need to stay sharp. I accept and take the lounger.
“Is she feeling all right?” he asks, sitting opposite me in a huge armchair upholstered in burgundy leather.
“Not really.” It’s a ridiculous understatement. I hate that we’re here. This is Mother’s home field, with all the attendant advantages. Although I know the confrontation has to be here, at the scene of the accident, I wish we could do it in Los Angeles with my people around, people who care about Ivy. “She had a flashback.” Edgar already knows about her memory loss, how hard that is for her. “She’s beginning to remember what happened on that highway nine years ago.”
“That must be unpleasant,” Edgar murmurs.
I can still feel the limp weight of her in my arms, the cold sweat filming her colorless face. “You can’t possibly imagine.”
“Mom was unhappy you didn’t want to stay at the old house. She insisted, in fact, but Dad told her you can stay wherever you want.”
Interesting. I expected their reaction to be the exact opposite. After all, Father was the one who wanted me home to fix what I broke, and Mother wanted me as far away as possible. If she had it her way, I would’ve never attended Princeton or any school in the U.S. “Isn’t this really Father’s idea?”
“That’s what I thought, but he said he wouldn’t have agreed to bring you to Tempérane if he thought she’d insist on getting her way every time. He said you were a little old to be told what to do anymore.” Edgar scowls into his glass. “Not that I disagree, but it was an odd conversation.”
More than odd. If the maternal feelings she had for me returned, she wouldn’t have behaved the way she did when she came to Los Angeles. “Why did she change her mind about me?” The sooner I can resolve the situation here, the sooner I can whisk Ivy away. “Do you have any idea?”
He shakes his head. “You know Mom. It’s hard to understand her. Even Harry doesn’t get her these days. He calls at least twice a week to check up on her. Told me she was really upset after leaving L.A.”
Poor Harry. Always the peacemaker, he tries so hard to smooth things over, especially when it involves Mother. Sometimes I wonder when he has any time left to study and take care of himself. “I’m not surprised. She offered to help plan our wedding, but Ivy didn’t accept.” Mother might’ve forced it, but then she met Suji, who’s no pushover. Thank God for that.
Edgar raises an eyebrow. “Maybe things have changed. When she heard Sam died, she was really emotional.”
“Really?” No good-riddance dance? If some bastard who’d been blackmailing me for years keeled over, I’d be shaking with joy.
“Crying and laughing and slightly hysterical. But also determined she’d go help Marty with the funeral and estate.”
She must’ve been thrilled. And probably hysterical at the idea of Marty getting hold of the recording, which is why she wanted to “help” him. Sam must’ve known that, and sent the recording to Ivy. He wasn’t an idiot. Marty isn’t smart enough to blackmail someone effectively. He’s too greedy and spoiled. He’d ask for too much, too fast and not deal with Mother fairly, which would force Father to get involved. And Father isn’t a man you want as an enemy.
“Anyway, she wants you and Ivy home for a formal dinner.”
Mother’s formal dinners are at least six-course affairs, which she oversees herself. The last time she invited me to one, I went in with a small hope stirring in my heart that she’d forgive me and everything would go back to way it was. But now I don’t feel anything resembling hope. I don’t expect anything to go back to way it was. The recording changes everything.
It’s just facing what she’s done. Confirming the precise role she played in Ivy’s accident.
“Tell her I’m bringing Bobbi.”
“Ivy’s bodyguard?” Edgar frowns. “Do you think something’s going to happen to her there?”
If he’d asked me that yesterday morning before I heard the recording, I would’ve thought probably not. “I’m not taking any chances.”
He pulls back slightly. “You don’t trust Mom and Dad?”
