Page 67 of Lady of Darkness
I look back at the guys. “Tea?”
Theo snorts. “Welcome to England.”
I shake my head. “She doesn’t even seem mad.”
Sterling shrugs. “We’re a reserved bunch. Give her a few minutes and a hot cuppa.”
We all sit down at the dining room table at my house. Cecelia places a platter consisting of different kinds of cookies as well as a teapot, mugs and saucers, spoons, milk, and sugar.
“I suppose you should be the one getting everyone tea, Harlow,” she says. Her nostrils flare slightly when she looks at me. “Apologies. I meant Lady Blackwell.”
“I told them you’re welcome to keep your title–”
Shaking her head, she sits down as her lip wobbles again. “I don’t want the title. I don’t want any of this. I just wanted Charles, and now he’s–he’s–”
She begins to cry, placing a napkin over her face. Theo is seated next to her, and beside her tiny frame, he seems huge.
“I know it’s been an adjustment,” he says softly, patting her on the shoulder.
She snorts and glares at him with tear-stained eyes. “Please. Like you weren’t in on the whole thing.”
Theo furrows his brows. “Actually, we weren’t. We didn’t know Charles was working with your father until after his death.”
I find Alaric watching me, and his eyes bore into mine as if to say,stay quiet.
Cecelia sniffs. “Really?”
Theo nods. “It would’ve been a massive betrayal to us.” He pauses, considering his words. “Itwasa massive betrayal to us.”
His expression shifts just slightly, and I can see the hurt written all over his features. But in one blink, it’s gone.
Her eyes widen, and she looks around at the other guys before her eyes land on me. “What about you, Harlow? Did you have any idea?”
I shake my head. “None. Not until the day of the funeral.”
Cecelia sits up straighter. “Okay. I believe you.” She gives me a wan smile. “Obviously, I’d like to stay here for a few weeks. My father and I… are not on speaking terms.”
My lip twitches with a smile. “This is just as much your home as it is mine. You’re always welcome.”
She nods once. “Very well. Now…” She looks at Alaric when she says that, jutting her chin forward. “Tell me everything.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Alaric
“How much doyou want to know?” I ask Cecelia.
She sighs. “I don’t know, Alaric. Humor me. Whatever I need to know, I suppose.”
She’s most comfortable with me out of the guys. We’d been close acquaintances growing up. We were never friends, per se, but the consistency with which she’s been in my life… I still remember my father’s funeral. I still remember how she seemed to be the only person who didn’t look at me with that sad, pitiful smile.
“Well, obviously, we worked with your father,” I say carefully. “Our line of work is… very similar to your father’s.”
She scoffs. “I figured. I don’t need or want any details.”
I look over at Harlow, and she’s sipping her tea and watching me with an amused expression. I try not to smile.
Brat.
