CHAPTER 2

GIANNA

The door slammed behind my arsehole stepbrother. I was shaking with anger. I wish I was one of those women who could let people know exactly what I was thinking right at that minute. But unfortunately, my comebacks always came to me later after I’d had time to think about it, usually when I was still fuming and trying to sleep.

Sniffing back frustrated tears, I wondered how the hell I’d ended up here. ‘Oh, that’s right, my mother had married his arsehole father.’

When I was four, my mother met what she thought was the answer to all our prayers. Julian Wallingsworth, the First, was a self-made man.

If there was one nice thing I could say about the man, it was that he did work hard to make his money, but it seemed the more he made, the more he wanted. Family was all about appearances and what we could do for him. I was barely tolerated because I wasn’t his blood, but as my mother and I were a package deal, there wasn’t much he could do about it. I was happy to be ignored by him. His son, on the other hand, Julian Wallingsworth, the Second, hated me and tormented me for most of my childhood, even though he was eleven years older than me. I’d breathed a sigh of relief when he'd gone to university at eighteen.

There had been two brights sparks in my life once my mother re-married. The first one was when my younger brother Tristan was born when I was six. To this day, he was one of my best friends. The second one was my grandmother. She wasn’t my grandmother by blood as she was my stepfather’s mother. She was nothing like her son. She’d taken me into her heart from day one. We might not be bound by blood, but we were by the mutual hate of both her son and grandson.

How so much evil could have come from so much sweetness was a mystery to me. I’d been out of the house since I was eighteen. I’d left to take up position as a personal assistant in Birmingham and I’d thought that I was finally out from under Julian’s thumb. I’d been happily living there for the last seven years. It was far enough away that I didn’t have to come home often but close enough that it wouldn’t take me too long to get back to Somerset if I had to.

I’d been hoping that I’d never have to come back home and had my mother and stepfather not died in a car crash last year, I’d still be living and working in Birmingham.

It was only after they’d died that we all found out that Julian, the First, had included me in his will. I’d been included but with stipulations that had to be met for me to claim my inheritance.

He’d left me a massive sum of money, but only if I got married within a year of the will being read. Once I was married, then all of Tristan’s inheritance and shares would be held by me until he turned twenty-one. Until that happened the board was running the company.

Julian would get the house we’d grown up in and a monthly income. Yeah, he’d been pissed off at hearing that. Apparently, fifty thousand a month wasn’t enough to live on.

If my stepfather had died after Tristan turned twenty-one, then the will would have been null and void and he’d have inherited everything.

But as Tris wouldn’t be twenty-one until a few weeks after the year was up, we were kind of stuck. I hadn’t cared about the money — he could have kept it. I’m not sure what he was thinking when he made the will, but he’d really stuck it to me. Because if I didn’t adhere to the terms of the will, then my younger brother would lose his inheritance and it would all go to Julian.

On second thought, maybe my stepfather had known what he was doing because he’d known that I would do anything for my younger brother, and I think in the last year before he’d died, he’d realised what a fuck-up his oldest child was.

The quicker I got married, the better it would be, but I’d basically been held a prisoner on this property since I’d arrived. There was no way to get in contact with any of my friends to see if one of them was willing to walk down the aisle with me.

Gram and I’d been put in the small three-bedroom cottage right at the at back of the property. The only access to it was a dirt road that was in such bad condition it made me wonder how Julian made the trip as often as he did without doing major damage to his vehicle.

Along with car, my phone and keys had been taken away not long after I’d arrived. I’d have walked out if it wasn’t for the fact that I’d have to leave my grandmother alone and I’d not do that. She’d been trying to get me to leave for a month, knowing that my birthday was less than two months away and I needed to be married by then as per the will.

It seemed a moot point now that my stepbrother had just informed me that I’d be attending a ball with the man he’d chosen for me as a husband. I knew it was probably one of his cronies and that I’d never see a penny of the money. I was more worried about what it meant for the company and Tristan. Knowing my luck, once they got what they wanted, I’d more than likely end up in a dark hole somewhere. When I’d asked what would happen to Gram, he’d sneered at me and told me not to worry, he’d take care of the old bat.

I’d wanted to hit him.

Instead, here I was wondering what the hell I was going to wear for this stupid ball. Then I perked up. Maybe, just maybe, I’d be able to get word to Tristan somehow or find some other way to get help to get us out of this mess.

With a bit of pep in my step, I walked back into the house and hurried to the kitchen where I knew I’d find Gram sitting at the kitchen table. I’m sure that between us, we’d be able to come up with a plan.

The kitchen was the warmest spot in the house and where both of us spent most of our time. We didn’t really have much choice as there was no central heating in this old cottage except from the fire in the kitchen.

“So, what did my idiot grandson want?” Gram asked as soon as I walked back into the kitchen.

“To tell me I was attending a ball with the man he’d chosen as my husband,” I replied with a grimace. “They probably made a deal and he’s being paid so that Julian gets the money that was left to me. My worry now is what happens to you.”

“Oh, my darling girl, don’t worry about me. We need to come up with a plan to get you out of this farce that my grandson has cooked up. On the bright side, this could be your chance to get hold of Tristan. I don’t understand that boy. How could he not check on you?”

While I had to agree with her, and it hurt a little to think that my brother had not checked in with me for months or even driven down to check on our grandmother, I wasn’t going to let the hurt I felt stop the hope that filled me at getting off the property. I was nothing if not resourceful.

We both jumped as the back door suddenly swung open, crashing loudly against the side of the kitchen cupboard, before it was hurriedly shut and the person who’d come crashing in unannounced leaned back against it, breathing heavily.

“Hetty, what on earth has gotten into you,” Gram muttered, standing up shakily from the table. “Gia, quick, get her a glass of water.”

Going to the sink, I filled a glass of water and took it to the table where Hetty, the cook from the main house, had sat down.

Hetty wasn’t a young woman anymore, I’d put her around mid-sixties, she was short and portly, not a person I’d ever seen rushing about. I was a little concerned about how flushed her face was. She was clutching onto a bag full of what looked like clothing. I’m not sure who was more surprised by her sudden appearance, Gram or myself. We’d not seen any of the staff from the big house since we’d been relocated here months ago. During that time, Julian brought us just enough groceries to keep us going and not starving to death.

Taking the glass from me, she gulped down the water like she was a camel drinking at the last oasis in the desert instead of in the English countryside where it seemed to rain for fifty out of fifty-two weeks.

Hetty finished the glass of water and slammed the glass down on the table, stating baldly, “We have to do something ma’am. You and Miss Gia have to get off this property.”

Gram and I exchanged a look of amusement at her words and the way she laid them out. Like we hadn’t been aware that we needed to get off this property. I’d have walked off long ago if there had been someone to look after Gram while I went for help. But we’d not seen hide nor hair from any of the staff, not even the gardeners. The gardens outside the cottage had gone back to their natural wildness. I’d had no tools to keep up with it.

“We know, Hetty,” Gram assured her. “But we have no way of doing it. I’ve told Gia to leave and walk out but she won’t leave me.”

Hetty looked at me, and determination crossed her face. But before she could start ranting on about whatever had brought her here, I wanted to know how she’d got to the cottage. We were at the farthest part of the property, and I’d not heard a car drive up.

“How did you get here, Hetty, and how did you find us?” I asked.

Hetty drew herself up until she was sitting straight up in the chair, chin tilted up as if we wouldn’t believe what she was about to tell us.

“I walked, Miss Gia. I couldn’t stay away once I heard what that...” she spluttered as if trying to find the right word before exploding with “that bellend, beg your pardon for the language.

“He’s made me so mad. He told all of us, including Mr. Tristan, that you were away on a cruise. Then this morning, while I was in the pantry with the door partially closed, he came in and started filling a cooler with stuff from the fridge. Now I know why I kept coming up with missing food,” she muttered to herself with a frown, before shaking herself and continuing.

“Anyway, he was talking on the phone to someone. Telling them that he was going to marry Miss Gia off, and they were going to split the money. And how Mr. Tristan thought you and Miss Gia were on a year-long cruise, so he’d not interfere with you getting married. And how once he got the money, he was going to sort Mr. Tristan out, because there was nothing in the will to say what would happen to everything if his brother was dead. Then he went on to say that he’d have you,” she pointed at me, “at some ball tomorrow night so that he could introduce you to your new husband and that whoever he was talking to better have a ring and be ready to marry you within the week.”

Hetty inhaled a gasping breath as Gram and I exchanged looks. Other than the news about Tristan and us being away on a cruise, which explained why no-one had looked for us, the rest we’d figured out ourselves.

“Then,” Hetty continued, “he muttered about having to go to the bloody cottage and how he hated that the road always fu…. sorry, messed up his car. It was bad enough that he had to get food to you once a month. Then he left the kitchen. I knew I had to find you. It took me a little while because I had to follow him, but once I saw where he was heading, I remembered this cottage. I parked in the woods and came that way so he wouldn’t see me.”

Looking expectantly at us, she finally stopped talking. “Thanks, Hetty,” I said, “we wondered why nobody had called to look for us. Me, I can understand, but Gram had a social life with lots of friends before all this. His excuse that we were on a year’s cruise was pretty genius.”

“It really was,” Gram agreed.

“So, what are we going to do to get you out of this situation,” Hetty demanded, rustling the bag on her lap.

“Well,” I answered. “I was hoping to be able to slip away at the ball tomorrow and call Tristan. But as usual, Julian, the idiot, hasn’t thought things through, and while he’s demanded I go to the ball, he hasn’t thought about the fact that I have nothing to wear to a ball at the cottage.”

“Huh, I’ve got you covered!” Hetty shouts in glee and dramatically pulls a gold piece of cloth from the carrier bag she brought with her.

My eyes widen and just about fall out of my head at the gold dress she’s holding up. I recognise it as one of my mother’s, and I’m wondering how the hell she thinks I’m going to fit into it. My mother and I were totally opposites in body shape. She’d been tall, around five foot ten, and thin, so bloody thin. No hips and boobs to talk about.

Whereas I was, how best to describe me …. Fat? No, I’d not call myself fat. Voluptuous…yeah, let’s go with voluptuous. I had boobs and arse for days, what with being an E-cup bra size. I’d learned to love my body, but I also knew it wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. I wasn’t short at an average five foot six. I’d taken after my father’s side of the family in looks. He’d been Italian and from the photos I had, I looked just like his mother. A fact that I don’t think had pleased my mother much. I had long, thick, wavy dark hair, dark brown eyes with slightly heavy eyebrows that were the bane of my life, and olive-toned skin that I loved because it turned a lovely golden brown when I spend time in the sun. How the hell I was going to fit into the dress Hetty had brought, I had no idea.

“Um, Hetty, thank you, but I’m not sure I’ll fit into that,” I said, pointing at the dress she still held up. I was trying not to catch Gram’s eyes because I knew she was laughing at my predicament, and I didn’t want to hurt Hetty’s feelings; she seemed proud that she’d managed to snaffle a dress for me.

Hetty shook the dress, while holding it up, then looked at me and back to the dress. I saw immediately when she understood what I meant. Then she shook her head, “It will be fine, I picked the one that your mother was able to adjust. You know how she was — one minute she was fine, then she’d starve herself. She had a few dresses that she could adjust. This one will fit, try it, and see.”

Hesitantly, I took the dress, handling it as if it was a live snake. It wasn’t my style at all as it was very much in your face whereas I was more understated and by understated, I meant I wore black only when I went out.

“Fine,” I muttered as I walked out of the kitchen, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Walking to my bedroom, I stripped off my comfortable leggings and jumper. Holding the gold dress up, I again grimaced at the colour. Having a good look at it, I found the adjustments that Hetty had spoken about. Maybe, just maybe, it could work.

Going to the chest of drawers, I changed my bra and put on some pull me in pants that I’d worn to the funeral. I was hoping they would give me another inch of breathing room in the dress. Picking up the dress, I slipped it on, surprised when it settled over my hips with not much tugging. Looking in the mirror, my eyes widened at my image. Yes, the dress was tight in the bust, but the draping neckline hid how tight it was. The nipped-in waist gave me an hourglass figure that I wasn’t unhappy with. It was a little tight on the hips but nothing that I couldn’t handle, I just hope it held out when I sat down. The only downside was that it was too long. I only had one pair of heels with me at the cottage and even with the extra two inches they afforded me, the dress would still be too long.

“Let’s see how bad it is,” Gram called out.

“Give me a minute,” I shouted back. Going to the wardrobe, I picked up my heels and put them on, twisting back and forwards in the mirror to have a look. It would do.

Opening my bedroom door, I walked back to the kitchen. It had been a while since I’d walked in heels, so it was taking some concentration on my part. When I realised that neither of them had said anything, I looked up. Hetty had a smug smile on her face and Gram had her hand up in front of her mouth her, then she smiled in stunned happiness.

“Oh, baby, you look beautiful.”

“Told you it would fit,” Hetty said smugly.

I waved a hand at her with a smile, “Yes, you did. It needs shortening, though, otherwise I’ll be tripping and falling all over the place.”

Hetty reached into her bag and pulled out a sewing kit. “Get on the table,” she motioned with a hand. “We’ll get you measured, and I’ll take it up. While I’m doing that, we’ll talk about how I’m going to get Mrs. Wallingsworth out of here and to my house.”

Gram put a hand on Hetty’s arm, “Hetty, I think with everything that has gone on you can call me Edna. Don’t you?” Gram informed Hetty, her left eyebrow raised as if daring Hetty to say no.

Hetty grinned at Gram, “Edna it is. Now let’s get this girl sorted and we’ll make plans.”

Hetty made quick work of hemming the dress and we hung it up in the bathroom to get the creases out with the help of the steam when we bathed.

It was decided that once I’d left with Julian, Hetty would drive up, collect Gram and our belongings, then take Gram back to her house.

After a quick supper, Hetty left, and Gram and I made short work of packing up all our belongings. We were in high spirits, it was the first time in months we both felt like there was an end to all this madness.

Now, just to find someone to marry me in a hurry!