The Mistress
“She told me after you and your fiancée ran off together. I received a threatening piece of mail. I couldn’t take any risks with Juliette. I sent her away to keep her safe. That is the one regret I do not have about this situation.”
Wesley struggled to find the words, any words, right or wrong to say. He could only come up with one.
“Congratulations.”
Kingsley gave him a look of profoundest shock.
“Congratulations? That’s what you have to say?”
“Well...yeah...kids are great. What do you want me to say? You’re going to be a father. Congratulations.”
“You aren’t horrified at the prospect of a man like me being a father?”
“I have a little trouble imagining you changing diapers. But you have money. You can hire someone to do that part, I guess. No, not horrified. Why would I be?”
“Because of what I am...what I do...”
“Nora’s like you,” Wesley said, hating to admit it but knowing it would be a lie to pretend she was anything other than what she was. “I don’t think her being kinky means she’d be a bad mom. She’s great with kids. She’ll be an amazing mother someday.”
“She does not want children.”
“She might change her mind. Once things settle down, once we’re married and—”
“Trust me on this...she does not want children. She had her chance once. She didn’t take it.”
Wesley’s eyes bored into Kingsley.
“What are you saying?”
“I am saying...” Kingsley leaned forward and spoke slowly. “She had her chance. I know she had her chance because that child was also mine. Your fiancée got pregnant, she realized she was pregnant and, within two days, she wasn’t pregnant anymore. So before you entertain another fantasy about nurseries and nannies and a glowing Nora Sutherlin swelling with your child, know this—she does not want children. And if you do, then you should very much reconsider your choice for chatelaine.”
Wesley felt something break—something light and small, no bigger than a soap bubble. It burst in the air in front of him and evaporated into the ether. He didn’t know what it was—a hope or a dream or perhaps merely a wish—but it was gone now, gone forever.
“She told me...” Wesley began, and stopped, waiting for his voice to steady itself. “She told me once why she trusted you. I didn’t trust you. You sent her on all those jobs. Sent this five-foot-three woman to strange houses and hotels with nothing but a riding crop to protect her. You sent her into the bedrooms of these rich and dangerous men. I told her she shouldn’t do it, it was dangerous, she could get killed. You two fought on the phone all the time. Fought and flirted and plotted and schemed. I asked her why she trusted you. You know what she said?”
“Enlighten me.”
“She said that you were like the brother she never had. She said that yes, you two fought all the time, but only in the way siblings fight. She said that at the end of the day she knew you would never put her into real danger. You could punch her in the arm and pull her hair because you were her big brother but if anyone else tried it—”
“I would destroy them.”
“Yeah. And then she said that she knew you were family because only family forgave each other like you had to forgive her. I asked her what she did to you that was so awful. She said she took something from you, something you wanted, and you forgave her for it, anyway. Now, I don’t trust you, and I don’t trust Søren, but I’m trying to trust Nora. So I’m going to trust that she was right about you when she said that even when you two didn’t like each other, you still loved each other. Every now and then my father and I get into nasty fights. Usually on days ending in Y. But at the end of that day, he’s still my father and he’d still burn the world down to save my life if he had to. Nora says it’s the same with you.”
Kingsley didn’t speak and for that Wesley could have kissed the man. He’d had enough of that suave French accent and that patronizing tone.
“I’m sorry for what happened with you and Nora. I wished she’d told me the whole truth. Then I could have told her that I don’t hate her for it, that I don’t judge her,” Wes said, wishing he could have been there for her back then. Maybe he could have talked her out of it.
“She’ll never be the wife you want her to be,” Kingsley said.
“You know what, I don’t give a f**k about that right now. I just want her safe. You get that?”
“More than you can possibly imagine.”
“Are you going to get her back? Or are you going to make a liar out of Nora for saying she trusted you like family?”
“I will get her back even if it kills me.”
Wesley started to say something but heard the front door slamming and feet running.
Grace appeared in the doorway out of breath and shaking.
“He’s gone,” she panted. “He left you a note in the desk, but he’s gone.”
Kingsley nearly ripped the desk drawer opening it. He pulled out a white sheet of paper, barely glanced at it and dropped it on the desk.
He raced from the room. Wes stared at Grace in shock, in horror, in confusion. In the distance he heard a car starting.
“Søren...he went to give himself up,” Grace said, still gasping for air. “He’s going to let her kill him.”
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