Page 135 of Unwritten Rules

“Nate, we need to talk about things face-to-face. This wedding needs to go ahead before you ruin everything. Trust me, there’s a lot you are not aware of, and I will only use it against you if you give me no alternative.”

I spin to face her, Wetherby’s water splashing everywhere as I snarl in her face. “Get it through your thick fucking skull. I’m not marrying you. Ever. And if that eventually results in the loss of some stupid peerage tied to an estate I couldn’t care less about, then so be it. I won’t allow my father to control me from beyond the grave. And I won’t be tied to you for love or money.”

I pivot and close the gap to Wetherby’s door.

“Now, get the fuck out before I throw you out.”

Wetherby is sitting higher when I enter his room. He takes the glass from me, his hand trembling slightly when Zara enters behind me.

“Oh, you’re awake at last, old man. Do you have it in you for one last begging?”

Wetherby’s haunted eyes meet mine, and my brows draw together.

“What is she talking about? Begging?”

Without letting him answer, she continues. “Oh, you know, Wetherby here has been pleading with me to keep the Hawthorne family secrets, that’s all.”

As he watches her warily, she frowns at him.

“He never liked me. Oh, no. He saw right through me from the first. Your father saw me for who I am too. It’s one of the reasons I loved him so much.” Her eyes turn glassy for a moment before she looks at me again. “Of course, my bloodline and Daddy’s pocketbook were an added incentive for Xavier, but mainly, he wanted an heir. Oh – and hurting you was the cherry on top for him, truth be told.”

She stops to chuckle darkly as my entire body breaks out in goosebumps, altogether aware that wherever this tale is going, it’s nowhere good.

“I don’t understand. He had an heir. Why would he—”

“But did he, Nate? Did he really have an heir?”

She smirks like the cat who got the cream, twirling a blonde strand of hair around her middle finger.

“Sure, he had an heir of his own bloodline, but not of his own body, and Xavier was nothing if not a proud man. His son – our son – deserves to inherit this peerage. Not his bastard nephew.”

“Your son? What… you don’t—”

She tilts her head in defiance, staring down her nose haughtily. “That’s where you’re mistaken, Nate. Xavier and I conceived four months before his death. He bade me keep Gabriel a secret so that once you and I were married, I could force your hand into naming Gabriel as heir, therefore keeping the title in Xavier’s line. Not yours.”

My head is reeling. I’ve had too many shocks for one day, but the hits won’t stop.

“If your son is my brother, he’s second in line regardless.”

“And what if you have sons of your own, Nate? What then, hmm? No, no. This is the only way. It was Xavier’s dying wish! And you will go through with it, or so help me God, I will ruin everything you hold dear.”

She smiles sadistically. “Or maybe I already have.”

“Get out now, Zara.” Wetherby’s voice is blessedly a damn sight firmer than it was earlier, and I reach to clasp his outstretched hand, drawing support from him.

“I don’t understand, and at right this moment, I don’t have any inclination to—”

“Don’t you want to know what Wetherby has been begging me to keep secret? From you?”

I’m not rising to her bait. “No, now leave.”

“How about Wetherby’s given name, Nate? Have you ever thought to even ask?”

Wetherby gasps audibly when Zara cuts me off, his free hand clutching his chest.

“Zara, I think it’s best we continue this another time. I’ll have my barrister draw up a schedule with yours.”

I kneel beside Wetherby, his face ashen when he whispers, “Forgive me, son.”