Page 55 of Cruel Dynasty

A chill chased away my anger. It darted up my back and settled at the nape of my neck. “What do you mean?”

“You know.”

“No, I don’t.” He had no way of knowing that, unless...

“Yeah. You do.” He leaned down, angling his face over mine and swept a soft kiss over my mouth. It was so chaste but my lips burned in its wake. “I’ll be seeing you, dirty girl.”

I stood there long after he left, trying to find a lie to believe in, but all I could swallow was the truth.

23

We rode in complete silence. The only debate had been whether we should leave the cars and take a helicopter, or drive. In the end, practicality had won out. Spencer needed to make arrangements, which was easier if he had his own car. It had made for a rather somber return trip.

Despite our trip being cut short, in our absence autumn had officially arrived in London. October was only a few days away with November and December on her heels. I didn’t have the stomach to ask Spencer about the wedding. It felt wholly inappropriate to worry about that with a death in the family. But that didn’t mean I could stop thinking about it.

When we’d left for Yorkshire, I’d hoped to return with a clear head and the courage to confront Tod Belmond about the change in our arrangement. Today, I felt more muddled than ever, but one thing was apparent: I needed to stop this before it went any further.

I couldn’t marry Spencer in Kerrigan’s name.

I wouldn’t.

Kerrigan had to come home. I didn’t care what Holden thought about it. The idea of her returning was like a knife piercing my heart. He didn’t think she would come, but when she did would he still look at me like he had in the hallway? Would he still want all of me?

Did I have any of me to even give?

And none of that mattered until the dark days ahead of us were passed. I would stay by Spencer’s side while he grieved. I couldn’t complicate his life more by forcing the issue of postponing our wedding. Not when part of me was wondering if the whole thing needed to be called off. Taking that time was what he needed, but it would also give me a chance to track down Kerrigan myself. I’d trusted Tod and Giles to handle it. Maybe I had to be the one to show her it was time to return.

We bypassed the heaviest traffic and headed straight to Hampstead. When the car turned down the lane to Willoughby Place, I looked at him in surprise. “Don’t you want me to stay with you?”

“I do.” He pulled into the drive, stopping at the closed gates. “It’s going to be a long night, though, and mother will be there—and Holden and Evie. I just thought you might want a moment to catch your breath.”

“Don’t worry about me. Let me know what you need,” I encouraged him, meaning it completely. I was still angry with Spencer. That had not changed. But this was about more than him. I needed to be there for Evie and Holden, as well.

“I’m sure mother will be furious if you aren’t there,” he said. “She’s already worried about the wedding.”

“The wedding can wait,” I said, relieved to finally speak the words. “There’s no rush—”

Spencer cut me off with a laugh. “We’ll be lucky to talk her into waiting until December. She’ll want it done before I’m summoned to my grandfather’s seat.”

“When will that be?” I asked slowly.

“That will depend on the King.” He leaned over and kissed me. “It might not be the fairytale you dreamed of, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Before I could think of what to say, the gate opened. Spencer drove forward, pulling to the entrance. “I can pick you up later. Just call me.”

“I can drive,” I said, forcing the words over a dry tongue.

“And Kerrigan…” he hesitated. “I’m sorry about earlier when I told Holden he could...I was calling his bluff, but then everything happened.” His eyes searched my face. “I didn’t want you to think I would have really made that deal. It was incredibly poor timing.”

My lips flattened into a line, and I nodded. The movement of my head sent black swirling at the edges of my vision. I dug my fingers into the console between us, determined to keep control. “I knew that.”

“Good.” He sighed with relief as he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck and drew me closer. “I don’t want him to touch you...unless I’m there to enjoy it.”

He stroked a thumb across my cheek, drinking me in, and I drowned in his gaze. My head started to swim and I tugged gently away. “You should get going. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll miss you the whole time,” he promised as I climbed out of the car. I didn’t bother with my overnight bag. I didn’t have time to grab anything but my purse. Everything was getting cloudy, each step I took felt as if I was fighting against quicksand.

The McLaren peeled away before I’d reached the house, and as soon as he was out of sight, I collapsed against the door, clinging to the knob to stay upright. It swung open and I nearly lost my balance.