Chapter Twenty-Eight

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Pimlico

 

 

“THANK YOU FOR attending tonight.”

A deep, brooding voice jerked my attention from Elder toward the dais at the front of the ballroom.

Stupidly, I thought the music had come from a CD or music player, but I couldn’t be further from the truth. A full orchestra sat on stage. Players relaxed and cleaned their instruments while the host smoothed his tux and prepared to deliver his speech.

Piano, violin, cello, and flutes.

The knowledge that Elder could pick up a cello and become part of them gave me goosebumps on top of the ones he’d already given me.

I hadn’t had time to reply. I wasn’t given the opportunity to cup his cheek and eradicate the self-imposed hatred in his gaze.

Why on earth was he apologising? And what made him think he was like him?

He isn’t.

At all.

My mind ran riot; I had to find a reply that could fix Elder’s shame. We’d skirted around each other for too long. It was driving us insane instead of allowing us to grow closer. The loose paperwork and unfiled experiences of my short life didn’t have the necessary wisdom to repair us once and for all. I had no one to ask what was the best thing to do or say.

I only had myself and my confident then terrified then confident topsy-turvy thoughts.

“Welcome…” the host said in his dark baritone, cutting through my thoughts, demanding my full attention.

The ballroom quietened as hundreds of people focused on the man dressed in an impeccable tux. He wore a simple mask of plain black like a villain, similar to Elder’s ebony velvet mask, not wanting to be known. However, topaz eyes gleamed from the shadows, dancing over his family standing beside him.

A woman in the most incredible gown I’d ever seen—minus the one I wore—smiled encouragingly. She looked like a raven transforming into a swan with her white chiffon and black feathers scattered all over the skirts. Her mask was different to everyone’s and only covered one eye, cutting down her face to her chin in an intricate scrollwork of pearls.

But it was her necklace that set her apart.

Candlelight and chandeliers made it almost impossible to study the heavy diamond choker glittering around her throat. It cut her in half, almost overshadowing her beauty, if not for the royal way she held herself—taming it rather than wearing it.

I’d never thought as jewellery as becoming someone, but I had the strangest sensation that the necklace meant far more than just simple frosting for an elegant evening.

Tearing my eyes away, I looked at the two children standing well behaved in front of the host and hostess, holding hands. A boy who I guessed would look like his father with a matching black shroud over his eyes and a little girl who was the swanling born to the swan.

“Tonight is a significant occasion for us, and we’re honoured you could be here.” Our host, Jethro Hawk, flicked a glance at his wife. “This is the first time the ballroom has been used for happier festivities, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.” His throat worked as if such a simple sentence carried a private weight.

His wife reached out and took his hand. They stayed linked as he continued, “We invite you into our home and look forward to talking with you throughout the night. You are more than welcome to walk the grounds, visit the stables or orchard, or explore the many rooms at Hawksridge. While you are our guests, we do ask you respect the locked chambers and do not believe such gossip that has long since circulated our hall.”

A slight ripple of murmurs tracked around the room.

A feminine laugh rang out, guiding my attention to a woman dressed in a turquoise gown dripping with sapphires and a mask that gleamed opalescent with moonstone. She was just as stunning as the hostess; only she sat in a chair with wheels wrapped in gemstones and ribbon, holding the hand of a tall, dark-haired man who favoured a white tux over the usual black.

She laughed again, surprising the hall into silence. “Come now, brother. I think the gossip is far more entertaining than the truth, don’t you?” She smiled at the crowd. “Why else are so many here tonight but to hear the tale of debts turned marriage?”

“Here, here,” someone said, raising a glass as waiters and waitresses made their way through the masses handing out champagne. “We’ll happily listen to a bedtime tale or two.”

Everyone laughed apart from Elder and me.

It was as if everyone knew something about this family that we didn’t. Elder stiffened as his eyes locked on the host. Mr. Hawk’s back straightened at the joke, an odd look crossing his face. He stood buffeted by the laughter, and it wasn’t fun for him but painful.

His voice quietened the ballroom with strained command. “Tonight, there are much better things to entertain ourselves with than listening to stories. We have business to attend to, after all.” He warmed to his speech. “Diamonds that are currently for sale with clarity and colour certifications are on display in the drawing room. A Mr. Elder Prest is here to discuss yacht orders with those nautically inclined. I, myself, am available to talk to anyone wishing to purchase a well-bred polo pony or two, and I believe a Mr. Sullivan Sinclair is here to help with any luxury island travel you may wish to book at his many locations.”

With a curt bow, Jethro Hawk said, “For now, enjoy the music and champagne. Make the most of your night, everyone.” The second he’d finished, he pointed to the orchestra who struck up music immediately. Squeezing his wife’s hand, he guided his family off the dais and vanished from the ballroom through one of the many doors.

Elder’s hand landed on my lower back.

I shuddered at his touch; slightly amazed that I was capable of lust so quick and powerful, I became instantly wet for him.

Turning to face him, I prepared to tell him things I didn’t believe in but assurances he needed to hear. I wanted to grant him my forgiveness for all the things he apologised for—not because I believed he had anything to be sorry for but to hopefully grant him a smidgen of peace.

His onyx eyes burned into mine, full of complex love and hate, desire and regret, his voice just as tangled. “Let’s find somewhere quiet. I need to talk to you.”

I took his hand and nodded.

* * * * *

We didn’t get far.

The moment we stepped from the ballroom and avoided perfume, tulle, and finery, we found ourselves practically bumping into our hosts.

Mr. and Mrs Hawk stood in corridor shadows, her hand on her husband’s cheek, his forehead touching hers. Their children were nowhere to be found, and my skin flushed for the intimate moment we’d stumbled upon.

“Focus on me and only me,” his wife murmured. “I told you this was a bad idea, Jet.”

He groaned under his breath. “I’m sick of the fucking whispers, Nila. You know as well as I do this should stop them for good. Kes and Emma don’t need this shit growing up.”

“They’ll be fine. They know the truth. What does it matter what the gossip mills are still saying—” Mrs Hawk noticed us. Pulling back, she dropped her touch from her husband’s cheek and smiled brightly, friendly, entirely professional in her role as hostess. “Ah, hello. Out for an explore already? The drinks have just started circulating.”

Jethro Hawk blinked, shook his head slightly, then hid his strained look with one of smooth elegance. “Ah, Mr. Prest.” He came forward, his hand outstretched. “Pleasure to meet you in the flesh.”

Elder tightened his fingers around mine as he reached with his other to complete niceties. He bowed his head respectfully. “Same, Mr. Hawk. Thank you for the invitation.”

“Jethro, please.” He smiled tightly. “We’re lucky enough to mingle in the same circles of wealth and decadence. I intend to make acquaintances with all of them now that I’m in charge of my family’s estate.” Turning to me, his smile warmed. “And you must be Pimlico. The plus one.”

I nodded. “I am.”

“Do you have a last name?”

Elder tensed. “She has both a first and a last name, but for now it’s just Pim.”

Jethro studied us as if Elder had given up a lot more than just my name. He opened his mouth to reply, but two children streaked up ahead, miniature ballgown and tux flying as they bolted through the labyrinth of corridors, squealing in joy.

Jethro’s face softened with absolute affection.

The same newfound agony that’d hit me in the police station found me again.

I gasped at the yearning in my heart—the way it held out its arms for something I never wanted and now would give anything to deserve.

I’d never had anything against children before—not that I’d been around many. They were just tiny humans who belonged to other people. Even seeing the love Jethro held for his offspring didn’t make my heart patter with hunger.

But that was because I wasn’t in love with Jethro Hawk.

I was in love with Elder Prest, and I made the mistake of glancing at him thanks to the vice-clench of his fingers around mine at the sound of children’s laughter.

His face turned white, his eyes black as pitch. One look and I knew where his thoughts had gone: to his younger brother who burned. To his cousins he wasn’t allowed to contact. To his family he’d stocked an entire yacht with gifts for.

Elder came across so solitary—sailing the seas, content as long as he was away from land. Only his aloneness ate giant holes in him, infecting me, making me wish I could snap my fingers and give him everything he was missing.

The newness inside blinked into an all-encompassing craving. And this time…it was even worse. A crippling. A maiming. A terrible, horrible knowledge that if I could have such an awakening to wanting children…imagine how awful it would be for a man who put family above everything.

I wanted to join us together. I suddenly desperately, torturedly needed to merge and give him a child of his own.

That thought shocked me stupid.

I wanted children.

Elder wanted children.

I can never give him children.

I could never give him back the family who’d ostracized him, and I was too damaged to give him a new one—one that belonged entirely to him.

My heart wept even while my eyes remained dry.

Conversation carried on around me, but I lost track.

All I could think about was how irrevocably I’d just changed and how quickly it had happened. How swift I’d gone from singular to plural. How Elder was mine now, through and through. And I didn’t deserve him because I could never give him what he ultimately needed.

My love would never be enough.

I’ll never be enough.

Oh, God…

The pain of it.

The unfairness—

“And you? Are you enjoying Hawksridge Hall?”

The question wriggled its way inside my mind, interrupting my steamrolling thoughts. I tried to latch onto it, but I was dragged back down again.

I’d known pain. Immense, earthquaking pain.

But I’d never known something quite as sharp or quick as the heartbreak of knowing I could never give Elder a child. That this new ticking inside me was counting on a broken clock. A clock that would never be able to tell the time or deliver what I suspected was the one thing Elder wanted most in the world.

What if he eventually resented me?

Tears trickled from my heart to my eyes at the thought of not being whole. Of not being able to give him everything he needed and more.

I need to leave…

The pain just kept getting worse.

My fingernails dug into the dense fabric around my waist.

Common sense tried to snap me out of it.

Even if I could have children, I was young. Didn’t I want to continue being young? There was no rush.

I almost scoffed at the thought. For two years, I’d lived wanting nothing more than to die. Now I was living I wanted to live. I wanted to laugh every minute and smile every hour. I wouldn’t let right or wrong timelines sway my life.

Never again.

Even my mother had advised the same.

And I can’t do a damn thing about it.

“Pim?” Elder brushed his lips over my ear, wrenching me back into my exquisite gown, drenching me in threads of orchestra music, and leaving me standing before the lord and lady of this ancient manor.

I gasped, rubbing at the burning in my heart before dropping my touch protectively over a stomach that would forever be flat and useless.

Get it together.

Forget it.

You’re alive. Focus on that and stop asking for more than you deserve.

“Sorry? What?”

Elder scowled. “Are you okay?” He pulled back, planting his hands on my shoulders. “Panic attack?” His eyes scanned over my head to the ballroom still chaotic with dancers and partiers. “Shit, I didn’t think. Crowds—they’ll be too much for you.”

How funny that I hadn’t even thought about it.

I’d arrived with Selix protecting me and found Elder’s stunning face half hidden behind a rich velvet mask, and I’d been happy, not fearful.

I’d had nothing to be frightened of until this moment, and the one person I was most afraid of was me.

I was afraid of losing him because I wasn’t whole.

I was afraid of the things I would do to ensure he never knew my horrendous secret.

I was afraid of the insidious whispers of seducing him to see if the doctors were wrong. Of using him to find out one way or another if I was truly damaged beyond repair.

How far would I go if I let myself tumble down that path?

Not waiting for my reply, Elder grabbed my elbow and stomped toward the exit. “We’re leaving. This was a bad idea.”

Leave?

I couldn’t.

Not yet.

Not until I’d had time to plaster my holes together and render over them to hide the cracks.

“No, wait.” I leaned against his tug, dragging us to a standstill. “I’m fine. Sorry, my mind just drifted.”

Don’t see my lies.

Elder scowled, disbelief on his face as he peered into my eyes. “Are you sure?”

His black gaze, as usual, was far too perceptive and had an uncanny way of deep sea fishing into my soul, hooking the truth even while it did its best to wriggle away.

Forcing a smile, I nodded. “I’m sure.” I touched his wrist gently. “I keep thinking my ailments are private, but you were there when I had that panic attack on the stairs.” It wasn’t the right thing to do—bringing up our first meeting at Alrik’s once again, but I’d rather cast his mind to that terrible place than this new one I couldn’t formulate. “You gave me your jacket. You started my heart beating again. I promise on that moment that if I have another attack, I’ll tell you and beg you to take me far away where it’s just the two of us.”

And possibly never three or four.

I crushed the voice of barrenness.

His eyes tightened. His teeth sinking into his bottom lip with deliberation. He made me weak and wanting, encouraging me to fib.

“You know…” I lowered my lashes, letting some of my pain show. “You might be right. I might’ve had a tiny panic attack, but I’m fine now.” I looked up, forcing every courage and falsehood onto my face. “Truly, El.”

It took him an eternity—an eternity where I wanted to perish for deliberately lying to him—until he nodded gruffly. “Fine.”

My tongue fluttered for more fibs, needing to patch up the awkwardness between us. Only our host stepped forward, inserting himself into our conversation.

“I’m sorry for overhearing, but did you say you struggle in crowds, too?” Jethro Hawk asked in a deceptively bored voice.

My eyes narrowed, hearing more than I should in his tone. No matter the aloof politeness on his face, he couldn’t hide the sudden interest hiding there.

His wife scowled, floating closer and placing her hand on his arm as if in some subtle code to behave.

Forcing my eyes from the golden inspection of her husband, I shrugged as if this whole thing was a huge waste of time and misunderstanding. “Like anyone, I have moments of fear as well as every other emotion. Who doesn’t?”

Jethro rubbed his chin, his salt and pepper hair turning him ageless as well as wise. “Everyone does but some more so than others.”

He spoke as if he were ancient and not in his early thirties as I suspected. He phrased things in a way that hinted he wasn’t just talking about our current topic.

He unnerved me.

“Just like fear, some unlucky people have endured more trauma in their past than others.” I shot back, unwilling to let him win. I didn’t know why my hackles rose when he stared at me. My back prickled as if he could see more than he should. As if he understood exactly why I’d gone so quiet and why my heart raced so sickly now.

“Trauma can come in many forms, no doubt about that.” His wife smiled.

My chin rose. “I agree. Only there is no such trauma now.” Pressing close to Elder, more for my benefit than for his, I added, “Elder is the reason I no longer endure that word.” Feeling far too studied and stripped bare, I turned ever more defensive. Jethro’s question repeated in my mind. The fact he’d asked if I struggled in crowds too, meant he had issues himself.

He might be the master of this castle, but I wouldn’t let anyone unsettle me again. “Why do you not enjoy crowds, Mr. Hawk? If you prefer smaller company, why invite so many guests tonight?”

Mr. Hawk kept his face indifferent. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy crowds. It’s that they provide too many opportunities like this one.” He waved his hand as his wife cleared her throat. Shooting her a glance, he said, “Anyway, that is another subject for another time. To answer your question simply, I prefer the company of those I trust far more than those I don’t.”

His wife stepped forward, taking the limelight and her husband’s hand. Her laugh was bright after so much dark. “We all have secrets and histories, don’t we? If everyone spoke the truth, I’m sure we’d never leave the comfort of homes for fear of what could happen.”

Elder chuckled under his breath, accepting her end to this strange corridor conversation. “You are right, Mrs Hawk. The world is infinitely dangerous.”

The awkward tension faded as Jethro smiled easier and less complicated this time. “I almost forgot.” Untangling his fingers from his wife with a loving glance, he moved to an elaborate sideboard with hundreds of little drawers and scrollwork. Sitting on top was a brass candelabra holding at least thirty flickering candles.

Pulling a key from his pocket, Jethro inserted it into one of the drawers and pulled it open. Palming whatever it was, he relocked the cupboard and turned to face Elder. “This is yours, I believe.”

Elder cocked his head but accepted the long, narrow box. The deep blue velvet held a silver stitched diamond on the top—the logo of the Black Diamonds. Now I’d seen it, I recognised it from posters in jewellery shops around London. I’d even seen it advertised in train stations with dripping diamonds billboards and their simple but powerful logo in the corner.

My eyes strayed to Mrs Hawk’s choker; memories flooded me.

I’d seen that necklace before—or at least a replica of it on a billboard in the Pimlico subway station. A magazine had released an article about some fantastical rumour that an heiress to a family fortune in textiles had been kidnapped and held captive to serve debts to her kidnapper’s family.

Was that what people were hinting at in the ballroom? Trying to pry into this couple’s private world? No wonder they weren’t at ease in crowds if they’d been plagued by such gossip.

“Thank you, Mr. Hawk.” Elder tucked the box inside his tux breast pocket. “I appreciate the fast turnaround.”

“Please, as I said, call me Jethro. And you’re welcome.” Glancing at me, he smiled sharply. “I see why you wanted it made so quickly.”

Elder frowned. “Yes…well.” He searched for a change of subject. “We’ve taken up enough of your time as it is.” Cupping my elbow, he tilted his head. “We’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your party.”

“Before you go—” Jethro extended his hand down the corridor. “I wouldn’t mind discussing a few things about potentially purchasing a yacht from you. Do you mind? I believe Sullivan Sinclair wanted to meet you, too.”

Elder looked at me reluctantly.

My eyes strayed to the box now hidden in his tux jacket. I wanted to ask what the hell it was, but I held my tongue. Things had happened in the space of a few moments that successfully made me wonder where I stood with him and what it all meant.

Elder’s forehead furrowed, his eyes darkening with frustration. He’d accepted this invitation for business. And business was calling him away. “Will you be okay if I leave you alone for a little while?”

I beamed, doing my hardest to seem like a normal woman who didn’t care in the slightest at being left alone with total strangers. Just because I hadn’t seen evil in this resplendent manor or peered into the faces of masked guests with suspicion didn’t mean I was strong enough to be left surrounded by people I didn’t know.

But I’d already been a terrible person tonight. I wouldn’t add more shame by guilting him into staying with me. Eventually, I had to face circumstances such as these, and tonight was as good as any. “Yes, of course.” Already I itched at the thought of being vulnerable to another attack, another strangling, another selling.

That won’t happen.

Because as much as I’d patched up holes with my mother, I wasn’t as naïve as I once was. I would listen to my instincts over her tutelage. I would kill before I willingly danced with another murderer.

And besides, this was Elder’s business.

Under no circumstance would I mess that up or be a weak invalid ruining his successes.

“Go. Honestly, I’ll listen to the band until you come back.”

Wrong. I’ll hide in a corner somewhere where my back and sides are protected, and I can see anyone who comes near me.

Jethro shot me a curious glance, his nostrils flaring as if he could taste my lie.

Elder pulled me close, whispering in my ear, “I know you’re lying, but I won’t diminish you by dragging you with me or calling for Selix to guard you. Instead, I’ll give you a task to keep your mind busy and idle hands occupied.”

I gasped as his breath turned hot with command. “Steal me something, little mouse. We’re in the hall of diamonds, after all.”

I jerked back, studying his black gaze. “You can’t be serious.”

“Deadly.”

Last time I stole, I ended up arrested.

And that was from an aborted attempt on a wallet. What the hell was the penalty for stealing an expensive diamond from the very family who mined them? Maybe they’d cut off my hand if the rumours were true that they favoured medieval punishments for crimes?

I didn’t know why but the thought made me laugh nervously, anxiety threading through me. I went to shake my head, to tell him there was no way in hell I would do what he asked. But Jethro cleared his throat, ending our staring war. “If you will, Mr. Prest.”

Elder released me, a sly smile on his lips. “Do what I ask, Pim, and the item Mr. Hawk just gave me is yours.” He tapped his tux pocket. “You do want to know what’s inside that pretty box, don’t you?”

Damn him.

Before I could argue and reach into his pocket myself, he and Jethro turned on their heel and left.

The moment the men disappeared around the corner, Mrs Hawk sighed sweetly. “I have to make sure my children aren’t up to something they shouldn’t be. Will you be okay? Feel free to explore wherever the doors are open.”

I nodded, swallowing hard at the thought of being left alone in a giant place with so many nooks and crannies for crime and pockets of darkness for horror. “Thank you, Mrs Hawk.”

She patted my hand on her way past. “Please, call me Nila.” Smiling with a touch of conspiring charm, she added, “By the way, you look exactly as I hoped someone as pretty as you would in that gown.”

“Excuse me?” I smoothed the blue and red bruised bodice self-consciously.

Nila sighed wistfully. “I designed that only a few months into my stay at Hawksridge. I stole it actually from an ancestor who sketched in the same journal given to me at the time.” Her gaze cleared. “I hope you like it. I find bruises rather beautiful…the range of colours fascinates me even though the pigmentation is the body’s way of healing from pain. Maybe that’s why I love them.”

I didn’t know what to say. The women who’d dressed me at the hotel mentioned the creator of this dress would be here tonight. I’d planned on complimenting her on her attention to detail and foresight of fashion, but Nila shook her head and switched subjects as quickly as she’d started this one. “Whatever task your man just set for you? It’s worth doing. I love designing clothes and get a thrill seeing women wear my creations, but it’s nothing compared to the intensity of seeing a Hawk diamond find its forever home.”

She lowered her voice as if the portraits of long dead relatives eavesdropped on us. “I’ve seen what your man requested Jethro to create. You’ll want to see it for yourself, so do whatever he asks. It’s worth it…trust me.”

With that cryptic encouragement to rob her, she glided back into the ballroom and left me.

Alone.