Page 27 of Cruel Dynasty

He hugged me.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I forgot how daft she can be. If you ever need to talk about...well, I think you know...call me.”

I felt a piece of paper slip into my hand, and I quickly pocketed it. “Anytime.”

Beatrice showed him to the door herself, following him to wave him off. When she came back inside, she stared at me for a moment like she wanted to say something. Then, it passed and she made a show of parading us through the house toward the conservatory.

“We should go,” Spencer whispered, pulling me closer to him as we went.

“Your brother is too drunk to drive. We have to take him with us.”

“He could stay here.”

“Is that a good idea?” I asked.

Spencer sighed like he’d just been handed a boulder to carry. “No, probably not. I’ll talk to him. One drink and then we’ll call it a night.”

“Deal,” I agreed. One drink couldn’t hurt, could it?

12

The conservatory was nothing like the solarium at Sparrow Court. Spencer had turned that space into a greenhouse, cultivating exotic plants. This was nothing more than a climate-controlled glass room with a few potted plants and oversized lounge chairs. Nearby, a bar had been set up. Holden immediately prowled over to it and made himself comfortable.

“What’s your poison?” he called over to me.

“I’m fine.”

“Bollocks. I’m making you a drink.” He began pouring and mixing as Spencer joined him. The two talked in low voices. Spencer kept his back to me, but I could see Holden’s face as he made the cocktail, including every roll of his eyes.

“So, tell me.” Beatrice plopped onto the chair next to me, lounging across it with her head propped on her hand. “How is he in bed?”

“Seriously?” I hissed. “Isn’t that a little personal?”

“Please.” She groaned and turned onto her back. “Don’t be such a prude. You can’t still be waiting for marriage. You had to do something to get that rock on your finger.”

The shock of her words hit me square in the chest. Of course, Kerrigan probably was a virgin at Woldingham. She’d lost touch with Beatrice years ago.

“It’s not like you haven’t slept with Holden,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Are you saying it's the same?” she asked. “Because that only inspires more questions—like how would you know? I mean, they are identical, but that doesn’t mean they fuck the same. Or does it? Do you know?”

Her head lolled to the side and she stared at me, waiting for an answer.

“Of course, I don’t know. I just…” But she’d cornered me. I felt trapped, certain that she would exact whatever calculated plans motivated her to reach out to me. The more time I spent with Beatrice, the less convinced I was that she was interested in reviving our friendship.

“Holden fucks like an animal,” she said with a shrug. “Hard. Fast. Hard.”

“You said that already,” I pointed out, doing my best to sound uninterested in this information. But my memories kept returning to the sounds I’d heard in the loo at Hillgrove’s.

“Trust me, it deserves two mentions.” She pushed up, swinging her feet over the side. Lowering her voice, her eyes on the brothers still mixing drinks behind the bar. “Something tells me you’ll find out sooner or later. Consider it an insider tip.”

“I’m engaged to Spencer,” I said coldly.

“You do you, babe. No judgment here.” This time the look she gave them was positively primal. “Besides, who wouldn’t take them both if they were offering?”

“Excuse me, I need the loo.”

“Do you remember where it is?” she asked with saccharine-sweetness.