Chapter 27

TWENTY-SEVEN

T hat was the first day I realized how quickly things moved in Xavier’s world when he really wanted them to. Within fifteen minutes, he’d wolfed down the remainder of his lunch. Thirty more, and he’d left instructions for the staff in his absence, and another assistant of his had sent a helicopter to pick us up in one of the estate’s paddocks, of all places. Less than two hours later, we touched down on a heliport practically a stone’s throw from Mayfair just as the sun was starting to sink closer to the buildings guarding London’s skyline.

Both of us were jittery with something . Excitement? Nerves? I honestly didn’t know.

But there was a distinct feeling that both of our lives were about to change forever.

“What do you think we’ll find?” Part of me wondered if this wasn’t a bit too anticlimactic. Maybe we’d hurried a bit too much, rushing things without thinking. It had the feel of playing into someone else’s trap.

“I don’t want to give her time to scheme any longer,” Xavier said as Ben pulled up outside of the Parkvale gates. “Stop here, mate. We’ll let ourselves in. Make sure you’re there on time for Elsie and Sof.”

“Of course,” Ben said.

Xavier helped me out, then turned as the car pulled away. “I just want to be done with it. If she and the Orthams, or anyone else, are doing anything to interfere with our lives, it’s got to stop. The notes, the terrorizing, all of it.” He gripped me by the shoulders and touched his long nose to mine. “This is our time now, Ces.”

My heart thrummed in response. Xavier going to battle for his family? Yes, please. I’d never get sick of it.

“Then let’s tell the snooty jerks where to shove it,” I said and allowed him to lead me up to the house’s entrance, where he unlocked the massive front door and let us inside.

It was clear even then that this was certainly not a “quiet night in” for Georgina. Parkvale was by no means as large as Kendal, but it was still enormous by most standards. The labyrinth of rooms meant that in order for voices to carry through to the foyer, as they were now, there had to be quite a party assembled.

Which likely meant a lot of plotting afoot.

“Excuse me, may I help—oh! Your—Your Grace.”

After Xavier had helped me remove my trench coat, I turned to find the Parkvale butler, Bledsoe, approaching at a steady clip across the parquet floors. The pencil-thin man looked a bit frazzled—I wondered if he was as surprised by the night’s party as we were. Or if it was just us that had him in a tizzy.

“Hello, Jeeves,” I said cheerily to the butler. “Remember me?”

Xavier snorted. “Jeeves?”

“It’s our little joke,” I told him before patting Bledsoe lightly on the shoulder. He looked as though I’d smeared jelly on his clothes. “Remember? That night after the Ortham Ball? I meant to apologize, Bledsoe. It was really horrible of me to treat you like that. I was…how should I say it?”

“Under the weather,” Xavier advised with a rather saucy grin. If I enjoyed seeing him ride to my rescue, he seemed to enjoy me when I was acting, as he called me, like a “minx.”

“Under the weather,” I repeated back to the butler, who was still staring at me as though I’d just suggested he trade one of Sofia’s princess dresses for his uniform. “And a bit heartsick for this one, if you know what I mean.”

“Mmm,” the butler managed to reply. “I see, miss.”

“It’s ‘Your Grace’ now, Bledsoe,” Xavier corrected him, holding up my hand to show him my rings. “Francesca and I were married last week in New York. The staff should have been notified.”

“Indeed, we were. I apologize, Your Grace.”

I couldn’t tell if he was speaking to me or Xavier. I got the distinct feeling he would rather address me as Ronald McDonald than admit I was the new Duchess of Kendal. Honestly, Bledsoe didn’t seem to like using the phrase for Xavier either.

“Where is my stepmother?” Xavier asked as he adjusted the collar of his shirt.

“Er, your—you mean the dowager duchess?”

“Well, I only have one stepmother. I assume she’s home unless the staff is having a party in the back.”

Bledsoe flushed a brilliant shade of fuchsia. “Indeed, they are not , Your Grace.”

“I didn’t think so. Where is she?”

“Er—” The butler twisted his hands together before appearing to give up the ghost. “The duchess is in the drawing room. She is entertaining?—”

“Thank you, Bledsoe.”

“Will you be needing your rooms tonight, Your Grace?”

Xavier almost shuddered. “No. We have business with Georgina, but after that, we’ll be heading home.” He glanced down at me with a smile. “To Mayfair.”

He didn’t wait for the butler to reply, just handed him our coats, took my hand, and strode down the corridor toward the drawing room at the end.

It was exactly as we’d imagined: the beginnings of a small dinner party that included Lord and Lady Ortham and Imogene, all sitting in a row across a Louis XVI sofa. They faced Georgina, who was talking animatedly in one chair, and Frederick, looking bored as ever in the other.

All of them stopped immediately when we entered the room.

“Xavier!” Georgina exclaimed, though I didn’t miss the narrow glance she shot at her son. “What in heaven’s name are you doing here? I thought you’d be on your honeymoon. Or perhaps preparing for your hearing tomorrow.”

She sounded almost gleeful at the prospect.

“I’m here to ask Imogene a question,” Xavier said.

“Oh?” Imogene asked, far too eager for my liking.

“Yes,” I put in. “We wondered if you would like to confess to harassment before we file charges.”

Xavier pulled the most recent letter out of his pocket and waved it in front of her.

Imogene’s face screwed up with immediate confusion. “What? I’ve no clue what that is. Harassment? Is she joking?”

“Francesca’s received three of these,” he told her. “It didn’t make sense until the other day. But you’ve made your intentions clear with me from the start, and it’s been very obvious you don’t want to take no for an answer.”

“Perhaps I had hoped…” Imogene looked nervously at her parents, who appeared admittedly appalled at the idea of their daughter sending creepy stalker notes. “But that doesn’t mean I had anything to do with this. Honestly, Xavier, do you really think I would stoop so low?”

“I don’t know what to think about you anymore,” he told her honestly.

I couldn’t help taking a little pleasure in the way the chill in his voice made the girl shudder.

“I say,” said Lord Ortham. “Isn’t that Caroline Klein’s personal stationery?” He turned to his wife as if for confirmation. “I remember it, you see. She showed it to me over tea after the Troop’s Cup in August. Made with a very rare weft that you can’t find anywhere but from the one man in India, she said. Rupert used the same papers. Must have given her the connection. Fascinating.”

I frowned. I had no idea Lord Ortham had such an eye.

“Oh, Bernard,” Lady Ortham mumbled under her breath in the exact same tone Lea used whenever Mike, her husband, went off for too long about his fantasy football picks.

At that, I had to hide a smile. Maybe it, was a husband thing. Lord Ortham’s love of stationery was akin to things like fake sports teams or flyfishing.

I was making a mental note to ask Xavier what esoteric hobbies he planned to cultivate when something else Lord Ortham said stuck out.

“Klein?” I asked. “As in… Adam Klein?”

“Why yes, that’s his mother,” Lord Ortham said. “And Georgina’s sister, didn’t you know?”

“Mother, you didn’t,” Frederick put in with a shake of his head.

I turned to her. “Was this from your sister? Was it from… you ?”

For once, Georgina’s sleek feathers were ruffled beyond repair. Her expression ricocheted around the room, bouncing between people like a pinball.

“Fine!” she sputtered. “But only because Carrie was so very clumsy, wasn’t she? No doubt this time her hands are all over it.”

“Do you think this is some kind of joke?” Xavier demanded, brandishing the letter like a sword. “Sending my wife terrifying notes? Making her feel like someone’s following her? Stalking her?”

“ I didn’t think it was funny at all!” Georgina insisted in a voice that rang a bit too loudly. “It’s only that Adam was so very attached to you, my dear, for God knows what reasons. And my sister simply can’t stand to see her darling boy unhappy. So when you had gone back to New York and your mother was still giving those horrid interviews, Caroline was convinced this might be the nail in the coffin, so to speak, that might finally send you his way. After all, it wasn’t that difficult to make you run the first time. Why not keep you going?”

My jaw dropped. “That is demented. This was all some kind of prank to free me up for your nephew?” I felt like I’d been physically shoved backward. “Did Adam know about this?”

“God, no,” Georgina said. “Bloody boy scout, that one. He’s been determined to rehabilitate his family’s reputation since birth. Seemed to think being a do-good teacher would help. Horrible.”

“It’s not the worst idea, Mother,” Frederick put it. “Especially if one is caught pulling such pranks on new family.”

“Indeed,” Imogene agreed with him. “Although it’s not much worse than getting involved with her to begin with.”

“ That’s enough! ” Xavier’s voice cut through the chatter, and suddenly the room was quieter than a tomb. Slowly, he rotated, turning degree by degree so that he was able to get a good look at every person sitting before us.

“Let me make one thing clear,” he said. “Whatever your designs on my title, your plans to take what has never been yours, there is one thing I will not tolerate, and that is harassment of my family. Do you see this woman?”

He pointed to me, then pulled me to his side while everyone turned their cold, fishy eyes on me.

“ She is the most important to me. Not this house or any of the others. Not the title you’ve been chasing or the accounts you’ve been using like they actually belong to you. Certainly not some stodgy position in Lords that I’ve got no fucking clue what to do with. Her. Our family. That’s all I care about. And so any form of harassment of them will stop .”

By the time he finished, I was practically glowing inside.

I didn’t realize how much I had needed him to say this to these people until now. Right this moment.

“Now, Georgina,” he continued. “Let’s not pretend that tomorrow morning, you aren’t doing your very best to take away the acknowledgment I waited nineteen years to receive from my father. This was more than a joke. It has always been about humiliation with you. Different means of casting me aside to elevate you and Frederick into positions you’ve always wanted, never earned.” He shook his head. “Even Frederick knows the likelihood of the title reverting to him, much less Adam, is next to none. For the connection to Kendal going that far back, there would be too many potential heirs to count.”

Lord Ortham chuckled to his wife. “Golly, maybe that means I should be the next Duke of Kendal, eh? I think our families intermarried back there at some point. Plenty of kissing cousins, you know?”

“Oh, Bernard,” Lady Ortham moaned again.

“Exactly,” Xavier said.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Georgina spat at him. “And even if you did, it wouldn’t matter. I would honestly rather see the title die with Rupert than continue with the barbaric likes of you, you little bastard. You’ve been a stain on this family since your birth. That will never change!”

“Oh, no you did not ,” I started toward her, but to my surprise, Xavier pulled me back.

“Don’t,” he said in a stony voice that was surprisingly calm. “She’s not worth it.” Then he stood taller than maybe I’d ever seen him. “Since threats don’t have an effect on you, it’s time for action. I’ll give you this last night at Parkvale, Georgina. Time enough to get your things together.” He glanced at Frederick. “You can keep the residence in Bath, Fred. If you want your mum there, that’s up to you. But Georgie, after tonight, you are no longer welcome at any of the Kendal houses, nor will you have access to any funds beyond the trust my father left you.”

“But—but that was a pittance!” she cried. “It’s nearly gone now, you obviously know that. He intended for me to stay at Kendal as the dowager duchess?—”

“I don’t care if you’re the former duchess,” Xavier spat. “I don’t care if you’re the Queen of fucking Narnia. You whored your way into my father’s bed for who knows how many years and abandoned him and his brother when they needed you most. You don’t have any rights to my estate while I’m the duke. And even if that’s only for a few more days, that’s still too long for you to spread your stink on it any longer.”

“Xavier,” Imogene put in. “Don’t you think that’s a bit heartless? She’s nowhere to go.”

Xavier paused, and I was genuinely surprised his expression didn’t turn the girl to stone.

“No,” he said. “And let that be a warning for the rest of you and anyone else you’d like to tell. No one threatens my family. In any way. Ever again.” Without waiting for a reply from any of them, he took my hand. “Come on, babe. Let’s go home and see our girl.”

“Sounds good to me,” I replied.

“You’ll regret this!” Georgina called from the melee that broke out immediately as we left the room. “Mark my words, you cannot make enemies in society and survive, Xavier! You’ll see!”

“As if I fucking care about that anymore,” Xavier muttered.

We strode through the grand hallways, accepted our coats from Bledsoe with a stiff bow and a sniff, and left nearly as quickly as we’d arrived.

“Are you all right?” I asked as the oversized door slammed behind us. Bledsoe had seemed more than happy to see us off.

Xavier sighed. “I honestly don’t know what I am right now. Exhausted, maybe. Angrier than I’ve ever been. But mostly just relieved it’s out there. They know where we stand. Now, we’ll just have to let the chips fall where they may.”

I grabbed his arm and gave it a thorough squeeze. “I’m proud of you. Standing up to a room full of bullies isn’t easy for anyone. And you didn’t even lose your temper.”

For that, I received a sardonic smirk. “I didn’t?”

I chuckled. “Well, not completely. Given Georgina’s tantrum, you were the picture of patience.”

“Well, that’s progress, I suppose.

He slung his arm around my shoulders and shepherded me down to the gate, from which we could call an Uber home.

“You almost had it, you know.”

Both Xavier and I froze at the bottom of the steps, collars still in our hands as we were putting on our coats. In concert, we both turned to see Georgina standing at the Parkvale entrance, clad only in the dark gray cocktail dress she’d worn to play hostess, bitterness dripping off her fine features like an over-applied glaze.

“Does she have a death wish?” I muttered to Xavier.

One corner of his mouth twitched upward—the only sign he had heard me.

“You won’t win after tonight,” she told us. “Not after making that scene in front of Bernard. You think he won’t skip straight back to the committee and tell them everything he knows about you now?”

I really couldn’t believe this woman. She sounded legitimately happy about the idea. Like she had been waiting for Xavier to bluster in tonight, specifically for this reason.

“It’s true, there was a faction who enjoyed the idea of someone like you in the Lords,” she admitted as she took a few steps down. “But the moment you stepped into this house, I knew I’d won. This time next week, we’ll receive a call from Lord Lonsbury. And it will be good news. Frederick will become the rightful Duke of Kendal, and you will be just another dirty-blooded upstart bastard married to an equally gutter-born wench.”

“Shut up !”

Before I could stop myself, I had flown back up the steps and slapped Her Grace Georgina, the Dowager Duchess of Kendal, hard across the cheek.

I knew it wasn’t right. I knew it was the exact same thing I had wanted Xavier to stop doing months ago. Just like I also knew I was playing into her hands, acting exactly like the social cretin she had just accused me of being.

But I wasn’t just anyone anymore.

I was a duchess now.

And more importantly, I was Xavier’s woman. And no one could talk about my man like that.

Georgina reeled backward, clutching her cheek and gasping with shock. “Why, you little?—”

“Just try me,” I growled as I took a step upward that made her flinch. “You want another? I got plenty more.”

“You dare lay a hand on Her Grace!”

To everyone’s surprise, it was the butler who spoke up through the open front door.

“Her Grace does,” Xavier said simply, though his eyes were blazing as he looked at me. “And considering she is the mistress of this house, not my former stepmother, then Her Grace may do as she sees fit. Particularly to those who insult her husband.” Then his eyes zeroed in on the butler, who couldn’t help but shudder under their terrible, quiet wrath. “Or are you also disloyal to this house, Bledsoe? I’m sure my wife would have some thoughts for you too.”

The butler worried his mouth while Georgina continued to nurse her cheek. Neither of them, however, said a word.

“I thought so,” Xavier said. “Now leave us. I expect you both to be gone from this house when I return tomorrow evening. Go. Now.”

It wasn’t until the door shut behind both of them that his large shoulders finally drooped with pure exhaustion.

“Come here, you fierce little thing,” he said as I returned to his side and allowed him to wrap a long arm around my shoulders again. “Bloody good fighter, you are. You might be the first person in decades to shut up Georgina Parker.”

I giggled. “I hope I won’t be the last. She deserves to have her mouth washed out with soap.”

Xavier sighed as we walked toward the street. “It’s a nice thought. Right now, though, all I want is to take you home, bury myself between your thighs, and forget this night ever fucking happened.” He took out his phone. “Let me see what’s keeping Ben.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” I said as I took his hand in mine. “Let’s go home, babe.”

But before we could go any further, Xavier’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, revealing a battery of missed calls, all blocked by Parkvale’s less than stellar reception, and at least five missed messages.

His arm dropped from my shoulder as he turned to me. It was like I was looking at a ghost.

“What?” I asked. “Xavi, what is it? What’s wrong now?”

Another note? Another article? Some other equally irritating news that would cost us more headaches over the coming days?

But it was far worse than I imagined.

“It’s…it’s Sofia,” he said in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

And then I watched as my husband, my tall, strong tower of a man, collapsed right there on the sidewalk.

“Sofia?” I repeated, hearing my voice rising to shrill heights within a second. “Xavi, what happened to Sofia?”

“It’s—she’s—” He gulped and looked up at me with eyes that had morphed into whirlpools of fear. “Our daughter’s been kidnapped.”