Page 40 of Cruel Dynasty

He looked away, but I caught the slide of his throat, as he spooned another bite. “Everything okay with Spencer?”

“He’s stuck in London. He said he left a message with you.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t tell me why he was staying,” he said bitterly.

“Emergency session of Parliament,” I informed him. “Your grandfather needs his help.”

“Naturally.” Holden fell silent. We continued to eat until we’d put a sizable, and slightly embarrassing, dent in the pudding.

“Look,” I said when I’d finally gathered my courage, “I am sorry that I worried you.”

He tipped his head. “If you want to go to the village or to visit this friend of yours, I’ll drive you.”

“Holden, you don’t have—”

“Yeah, I do.” He turned his face toward mine. Even in the dark room, I saw the pained frustration in his eyes. “Don’t fight me on this. You shouldn’t be driving if you’re having attacks like that.”

There was no point in arguing with him, so I simply agreed. “Fine. But I doubt I’ll be visiting my friend anytime soon.”

“Do I know this friend of yours?”

“I went to see Edward,” I said casually.

Holden’s spoon paused over the dish. “You’re really climbing the social ladder, aren’t you, Kate?”

“It’s not like that.” His dig stung. Maybe it looked that way to him. Now that he knew I was a poor, uneducated stand-in, he obviously thought I was nobody. “I just wanted to see a friendly face.”

“My face isn’t friendly?” he murmured. “I thought you rather liked it.”

“No shameless flirting,” I reminded him.

“That was earlier. It wasn’t a permanent arrangement.”

What a surprise. “Holden, just tell me what you’re planning to do.”

“Planning?”

“You know I’m not Kerrigan.” I couldn’t believe he was going to force me to admit it again. “So, when are you going to tell your brother?”

“Is that what you are worrying about?” he asked.

“I need time to talk to Tod and warn him that his plan isn’t going to work.” I kept my explanation matter-of-fact, choosing to ignore the pit growing in my stomach. Only a few days ago, I had been worried about December wedding plans. Now, I didn’t even have that long. “And to figure out where I’m going to go.”

He laid his spoon on the counter and turned to face me directly. “Where were you before?”

“Waiting tables at a pub in West Bexby.” I shrugged and took another bite, but the chocolate tasted like dirt in my mouth. I tossed my spoon on top of his and pushed the plate away.

“Where the fuck is West Bexby?”

“Exactly,” I said with a sigh. “I can call my flatmate. Hopefully, they haven’t hired anyone. Although, I was a shit waitress, so maybe Lou won’t even want me back.”

He studied me for a moment, his features too shadowed for me to get a read on what he was thinking. Could he tell what I was thinking or was he just as in the dark as I was? “Something tells me you were a shit waitress.”

“Thanks,” I bit out. “But I’ve got to do something. Not all of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouths.”

“Ouch,” he said flatly. “Is that what you think of me?”

I lounged against the counter on my elbows, staring at the clock on the microwave oven. It was getting late. “Maybe.”