Chapter 8
Declan
Normallyatthesefamily dinner parties it was either one of Ethan’s casual girls threatening to rip out the fake eyelashes of some other flirty girl, or Savanah telling someone to “get fucked.” But never me threatening to whack someone. I was the sensible one who didn’t get drunk, or try to hit on someone’s wife, or ramble on about some incendiary political minority group about to ruin the world with their idealistic views.
My mother pleaded with me. Derek was a big investor in one of her latest ventures.
I stood my ground. “He crossed a line. Staff are off bounds. All women are.”
She shook her head. “What universe have you landed on? Staff have been touched up since the time of the Danes and probably before that.”
My mother and her English history. Despite being the most educated in our family, with a master’s degree, she hadn’t quite caught up with women’s rights. Ironic for someone who wore the pants in the family.
“In those times, the English lived in their own shit,” I argued. “We’ve come a long way since then. Thanks to the Romans, we have excellent sewerage, and thanks to progressive thinking, women are treated with the respect we all deserve.”
I was no longer that son that would do her bidding. I passed that baton over to Ethan years ago after I left home for the army. One of the few reasons I joined the SAS was to escape my mother’s ruthless ambition for us to be the richest family in the UK.
“Your father’s acting like a first-class idiot again. Why does he have to make a fool of the family like that?”
“Maybe it’s got something to do with how close you and Will have become,” I said.
“That’s my business. Anyway, your father’s got his own lovers in London.”
My parent’s loose morals when it came to who they slept with made my skin crawl. “There’s such a thing as divorce, you know.”
She twisted her mouth. “It’s very complicated. We own all of this together. And I have big plans for this place. Your father’s portion is essential. We stand to make a fortune. If only he’d sign on that dotted line.”
“I’m glad he hasn’t stooped that low. What are you going to do about the farmers? Land that they’ve been leasing from the family since your beloved Henry the Eighth.”
She pulled a face. “He’s one of my least favourite kings. However, I admire him for breaking away from the corrupt clutches of the papal state.”
I leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I hope you liked your present.”
“It’s very pretty.” She half-smiled.
“If I see Derek, I’ll knock out those wine-stained teeth of his,” I warned.
“The army’s changed you.” She walked off.
I entered the kitchen and found Theadora sitting on a chair, resting her legs.
She flinched as though I was the last person she wanted to see. “I appreciate your stepping in earlier.” She looked down at her hands. “But I don’t wish to cause problems. I don’t want to blow this job.”
“I’ve got enough say in this family to decide who comes and goes.” I remained there, holding her hesitant gaze. “You don’t remember?”
“Remember what exactly?” She opened her hands, and those dark, searching eyes held me captive.
Janet entered the kitchen. “Oh, there you are,” she said to Theadora. When she noticed me, Janet looked from me to our new maid. “Oh, Mr. Lovechilde, do you need something?”
Yep. This girl’s story.
“I came here for a glass of water,” I lied. “I’m good, thanks.”
Janet said to Theadora, “They’re about to serve dessert.”
When the older woman left, Theadora jumped up off her seat to get back to work.
“Wait,” I said. “When do you finish?”