by Tillie Cole
Harry shuffled closer to me. My heart beat so fast with the proximity. “Each time we were together as Harry and Faith, I gained a piece of the old Harry back. You, Faith. You brought me back. With your innuendos and inappropriate jokes.”
“Harry…” I whispered. “But Maître…”
“I never believed, in a million years, someone like you would like me. As Maître I got to have the intimate side of you. But then, impossibly, things began shifting. I felt them changing between us as Harry and Faith.”
“I remember.”
“And the deeper we got, the more I knew that if I told you I was Maître I would lose you. That I would break any semblance of trust we shared, and I would lose you.” Harry looked so sorry and forlorn. “As bad as that sounds, I couldn’t bear to lose you. You changed me, Faith.” He frowned at that. “No, not changed me. You brought me back to life. You, the feisty brunette from Hell’s Kitchen who writes a sex advice column, brought me back to life.”
“Harry,” I said and, finally, after all this time, I pressed my lips to his. He kissed me back. It was soft, it was beautiful, and it was filled with an abundance of gratitude.
When he pulled back, he said, “You must know that everything I said to you as Harry was the truth. I omitted that I was Maître, but everything else was real, Faith. So bloody real.”
I placed my hand on his face. “You are both, Harry. Both men are you. And I fell for them both.”
“Faith…” he whispered.
“But your father,” I said, shattering the moment. “He made it clear he will never allow this. Us.”
Harry dropped his forehead to mine. “And I have made it clear to him that if he tries to get in my way again, in any part of my life, but especially with you, I’ll walk away. I’ll refuse the title, the businesses, everything. Faith, I told him not to make me choose between you and him.”
“You did?” I said, feeling my heart in my throat. “Why?”
Harry pulled back his head so I could see his face, so I could meet his eyes and hear him say, “Because I told him I’d choose you. I told him I’d always choose you.”
Tears fell from my eyes and I crashed my mouth into his. This time Harry kissed me back with the same level of longing and desperation that lived within me. My hands ran through his hair, and I tasted whiskey on his lips and tongue. I was consumed by him, and I wanted nothing more than to have him above me. But Harry pulled back and said, “I’ll walk you back to your room.”
“Wha—?” I said, lips swollen and confused.
“Faith, you need to think about everything that has happened.” He glanced at the couch beneath us. “And I’m not going to take you for the first time on an old couch in my dining room.”
“Why not?” I argued. “You’ve fucked me in stocks and in a giant birdcage for fuck’s sake. I’d say an antique couch in a stately home is an upgrade from those.”
“Faith—”
“I forgive you, okay?” I said, desperately trying to undo his zipper. “Do you forgive me too? If so, let’s get to the make-up sex.”
Harry moved my hands away. “Of course.” He sighed and stood up. “But now that you know who I am, all parts of me, I want to do this right.”
“Right spright, I’m ready now!” I spread my arms wide. “Ravish me, Harry. My Harry-starved libido and I are more than ready.”
Harry bent down until his chest hovered over me. His lips closed in on mine, but rather than kissing me, he said, “Not tonight, Faith.”
“Ahh!” I cried in frustration. “I thought you weren’t a sadist?”
“Maybe I am, a little,” he said and offered me that bastard hand again. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”
As he led me through the hallways, despite my big case of lady blue balls, I couldn’t help but be charmed by Harry being all chivalrous and polite. As we came to my door, he brushed my hair back from my face, the gesture so familiar I practically swooned. “I showed you my home today, Faith, so you not only know who I am, but also what baggage comes with being with me.”
“I’d hardly class this as baggage,” I said, scoffing.
“But it is. No matter how luxurious it appears, it is baggage nonetheless. Heavy baggage, that lasts a lifetime and requires things in your life you may not like, duties you may not care for. It would put you under the microscope too. More so because many people would not approve of us, despite us not caring.” I saw how much he meant those words and quickly sobered. I may joke about things, but he was right.
“Okay,” I said. Going onto my tiptoes, I kissed his mouth. “I promise I’ll think about things. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“I have to go into London first thing to check on the offices in my father’s absence. I must attend a meeting that could not be rescheduled. But I’ll see you at the midsummer masquerade ball tomorrow night.”
“Do I get a hint on your mask?” I teased.
Harry leaned close and, just before he kissed my cheek, said, “You’ll have no problem recognizing me, let’s just leave it at that.” He brushed his lips against my cheek. “Goodnight, Faith. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Harry.”
Finding the doorknob, I slipped into my room, Harry fading from view as I shut the door behind me. I collapsed against the wall and worked on steadying my breathing. Once my composure had been gathered, I walked to the window and sat on the cushioned sill. I stared out at the starry night, birds still chirping in the trees. In the lingering summer’s light, I could still see most of the property, and I truly thought about what Harry had said.
Baggage.
I told him I’d choose you. I told him I’d always choose you.
I let my forehead fall on the glass pane. I stared at the glittering lake and remembered it all, from the first time we met to what led us here today.
You brought me back to life.
I smiled, remembering those words. “You showed me what life was, Harry,” I whispered to the quiet room. “You showed me what it was to live.”
Chapter Twenty
The sun hadn’t even reached the sky when I awoke. I wanted to blame it on the jet lag, but the truth was it was Harry. It was Harry and last night, this house, his title, and everything that came with it. I had tried to imagine what being in this life would be like. What it would be like to an outsider, not from the same social circles. The looks Harry and I would be given by his peers, the judgment.
I had never cared what people thought of me. But I cared what they said about Harry. I had imagined too many times how I would react if someone slighted him in my presence, because of my presence. I wouldn’t be able to hold my tongue. I knew I wouldn’t. Would Harry be disappointed by that? Would I let him down if I let my mouth fly to protect him? Us? I didn’t know.
I let myself out the side door that led to the terrace. The morning was fresh and cool, and I wrapped my sweater more tightly around me. As I crossed the terrace and descended the steps to the gardens, a mist hovered over the grass, basking the property in a gothic white glow. I’d never seen anything like it. I held my hands down beside me, trying to see if I could feel the mist between my fingers. I couldn’t, of course, but it made me feel like I was walking through clouds. Birds sang in the trees, and I stared up at the high treetops, heading for the one place that had mesmerized me since the day I got here.
I arrived at the fairy-tale bridge, walked to its center, and looked at the house. Even having spent the last few days here could not take away its majesty. I was sure if I lived here a lifetime, I would still be in awe daily.
The old stone of the bridge was rough under my hands, the flowers’ petals kissed with the morning dew. As my fingertips traced the years of use, I wondered just how many people, over the centuries, had stood here as I was doing now. If they’d leaned over the wall and stared down at the lake, contemplating the world and their place in it. If they’d stood on these very worn slabs beneath my feet and thought about the one who held their heart.
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I stayed that way until the sun was high in the sky, the mist had gone, and the day had warmed. I saw the house waking, staff members readying for the ball tonight, and guests taking breakfast on the terrace.
Deciding to head back, I crossed the bridge to the other side. When I looked up, I stopped dead in my tracks. “Hello, Miss Parisi.”
King Sinclair sat on a bench at the foot of the bridge. “Mr. Sinclair,” I said. “How are you?”
“Please, join me,” he said.
Preparing myself for his censure, I sat on the wooden bench. The bridge looked even more magical from this angle. “You like the bridge?” he asked. As I faced him, I saw he was very pale and, in very little time, had lost quite a bit of weight.
“It’s incredible,” I said. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off it the whole time I’ve been here. I didn’t sleep well last night, so I decided to come and see it at first light.” I glanced at the house. “Your property really is something special.”
“Thank you.” We fell into silence. I braced myself, waiting for another “talk” about my being no good for Harry. But instead he said, “My son is in love with you.” I stopped breathing, I was pretty sure my heart had stopped beating, and I could have been convinced I was dreaming as those words slipped from King Sinclair’s mouth. I wrapped my sweater more tightly around me, a soft layer of self-protection.
King smiled, pointing at the bridge. “It was Aline’s favorite part of our estate too.” Tears filled my eyes at the sudden change in King’s voice when he talked of his wife. It softened, and anyone could hear how much he had loved her. “If I couldn’t find her in the house, I knew she’d be out here.”
“I’m sorry you lost her,” I said, wanting to take his hand and comfort him. As much as he had acted badly toward Harry and me, it didn’t take a genius to know he was racked with pain. He may have recently had a heart attack, but that organ had been shattered long ago.
“She was the best part of me—until we had Harry, of course, but even then, she was this light I hadn’t known I needed. I was always prone to seeing the darker side of life, and she would illuminate the world until it didn’t look so bleak after all.”
He turned his head and stared out at the tree line just beyond the bridge. “When she got sick, I thought, God wouldn’t be this cruel to take her from me and my boy.” King smiled. I think it was the first time it had ever appeared genuine. “She adored Harry. He could never do wrong in her eyes. That boy could have burned down the house, and she would have argued he was just trying to keep us warm.”
I found myself laughing, yet simultaneously felt my heart breaking. His smile slipped from his face. “I buried my head in the sand and refused to believe we were losing her. I…” His breathing stuttered. “I didn’t even call for Harry in the end. He missed telling his mum goodbye because I just couldn’t face reality.”
“He would forgive you for that, if he hasn’t already.”
“Yes. He told me that when I confessed it was my biggest regret.” King tapped his chest, over his heart. “When I came through the surgery.”
“It would have destroyed him if you’d died too,” I said and saw King’s eyes glisten.
“In that moment, as I was coming out of the surgery alive, Harry’s optimism reminded me of my wife, of the reason I fell so in love with her. It was the best trait of hers he could ever have inherited. Better than my dour nature.”
“Your wife was beautiful.”
“She was. But it was her spirit that hooked me in so deeply. Her rebellious nature. In a world full of black and white, she was a solitary streak of color.” I had to bite my lip to stop it from trembling. I’d never known King could speak so purely about someone he loved. But that was the point, of course. I didn’t really know him at all.
“I always thought of her as a walking watercolor painting, brightening the world wherever she went. When she died, all the color faded from the world. It faded from me too.”
“You lost the love of your life. It’s the worst thing a person can endure,” I said, believing every word.
“It is, but failing as a father is tied for that title.” I tensed and held my breath for what King would say next. He angled his body slightly my way and said, “I failed to be the father Harry needed when he was younger and until now. But I won’t do that again.”
My mind raced and my hands began to shake. “I almost died, and I will tell you that coming out of the other side makes you realize just how precious life is, and that it is to be lived.” King went quiet for a moment, contemplating. “And I haven’t done much living for too many years.” I looked at the flowers around us, the lavender scent from the field calming my nerves. “Harry doesn’t know it yet, but I’m retiring.”
“What?” I whispered, shocked.
“Harry is better in the business world now than I am. It has changed, is rolling with the times, and Harry is good at what he does. Excellent, in fact. It’s time he took the mantle.”
I tried to process that information. But more than that, I tried to understand what that promotion would mean for us. “It’s a lot to take that kind of responsibility on.” I nodded, somewhat numb and, if I was being honest, a little afraid. “He will need someone to support him. Someone to help him through rough waters.”
I sighed. Louisa. He was referring to Louisa.
“My son has chosen you, Faith.” I whipped my head to King, eyes wide and mouth parting, but no words would come. King chuckled. Actually friggin’ chuckled. “He spoke to me quite frankly when I came to after the surgery.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Never in my life have I seen my son so full of conviction as when he spoke of you. Of when he told me how disappointed he was in me for interfering and for not trusting him to know what is best for him. For his life. And more than that, his happiness.”
King took hold of a walking cane and moved to get up. “He has chosen you, Faith. And I won’t lose him. He’s all I have that’s good in the world, and I won’t lose him because I think I know what’s best.” I just stared at King. “I’m retiring from the business, maybe I should retire from trying to govern Harry’s life too. The world is evolving, tradition is dying, the old stuffy ways of society are gradually giving way to the new. It’s time for me to let go.” It was too much; this fluttering in my heart and warmth in my blood was all too much.
“But Faith, if you decide to be with my son, stay by his side. You have to know that there will be those in our circles who will talk. Who will ignore you because you are different. Who might offend you because you weren’t bred for the station you’ve been thrust into. Sometimes you will find yourself in a viper’s nest.”
Finally finding my voice, I smiled and said, “Luckily, I have fangs, Mr. Sinclair. Big, venomous fangs.” King laughed and got to his feet.
I went to help him, but he held up his hand. “It’s just a precaution,” he said, referring to his cane. “I really am feeling better. Even better than before.” I remained sitting, and he said, “You know, my wife would have loved you.”
He laughed like he was laughing alongside her, here, with us right now. “She would have loved this. Loved that Harry had chosen to break away and make his own rules. Loved that he pushed back against me. And loved that he would fall for a woman who could cut down all of English society with a lash of her tongue.”
King nodded, like he was agreeing with an internal thought. “Yes, she would have loved you as a daughter-in-law very much. You are so like her, or so Harry tells me. She certainly was quick to put me in my place. I think that’s what I miss most about her—our verbal sparring. I didn’t realize how much I enjoyed it until she died and everything went silent.” King nodded goodbye, and I watched him slowly walk away.
“Mr. Sinclair?” I called, and he turned around.
I shrugged. “I’m not bragging or anything, but I’ve been known to throw some epic verbal throwdowns in my day, if you ever find yourself wanting a challenge again.”
; The flicker of a smirk that pulled on his lips mirrored Harry’s expression when he was amused. “And you may just be a worthy adversary for me, Miss Parisi. A very worthy adversary for me indeed.” He took a step and said, “And call me King.”
“In that case, call me Faith.” I winked to exaggerate my point. King smiled more widely and, shaking his head, disappeared down the pathway toward the house.
I stared out at the rippling lake in wide-eyed wonder. What the hell was happening? King had given us his blessing. He was giving Harry the reins to HCS Media.
I laid my head back on the wooden bench and tried to let it all sink in. I closed my eyes and let the English morning sun kiss my face. A strange kind of static rushed through my body. Could I do all of this with Harry? Where would we even live? Nerves threatened to overwhelm me, but then I thought of one thing King had said, and it chased them all away.
My son is in love with you.
I replayed it, once, twice, three times, just to allow it to sink in.
My son is in love with you, my son is in love with you, my son is in love with you…
And beside the bridge I loved so much, sure his mum was here in spirit, I whispered, “I love him too, Aline. I love him so much.”
As those words disappeared into the bright sky, I returned to the house and began readying for that night. Running the bath, I let the vanilla-scented bubbles envelope me and saw Harry’s smiling face in my mind. “I love you too,” I said, as though he had heard me. “Harry, I love you too.”
The lanterns created a galaxy of stars as I walked toward the ballroom, an orchestra playing classical music and opera singers singing in Italian, luring me closer. Papa would have loved this, all the drama.
I walked with careful feet as I approached the archway that led to the top of the staircase. From here, I saw people dancing, gowns and masks firmly in place. A nervous chill raced up my spine as I passed two men on either side of the archway and let my gaze run all over the room. It was a Shakespearean fantasy. Lights of all colors draped over the ceiling in crisscross shapes.