Arranged_An Array Novel

by Hazel Grace

  Sitting back in my chair, I noticed he was taller than George and his nose was slightly crooked. He pulled up a chair nearby to sit across from me.

  “I’m William Reddington.” He straddled the chair and rested his arms on the back of it. “And I’ve heard many stories about you and your antics. I must say, I idolize your strategies of terrorizing the staff and rebelling against the rules.”

  “My cousin,” George informed, examining the data in his hand.

  “Twice removed,” Reddington winked. I looked between the two of them—same sandy blond hair and oval face but while George shared his brother’s blue eyes, Reddington had chocolate brown.

  George scoffed and rolled his eyes. “The only time you were twice removed was when we were kicked out of that gaming hall.”

  Reddington rolled his ice blue eyes. “Why would you bring that up on my first meeting of the Lady?”

  George shrugged, not peering up. “Because it’s true.”

  Reddington glanced back at me and grinned. “And now I own that gaming hall.”

  Besides the resemblance, I saw the difference in the personalities. George was carefree but careful. Goodness, he harassed me every time I went off and played a prank on the new maids. Reddington didn’t have a crown in his near future, which allowed him to be more reckless, maybe even mutiny himself over the order of society. That intrigued me.

  “How did you do that?” I found myself saying out loud.

  Reddington’s eyes widened for a moment before stretching an embarrassing grin over his face. “That story isn’t very gentlemanly.”

  I leaned closer, resting my elbows on my knees, and my lips quirked. “Now I’m intrigued.”

  Reddingon paused. “Well…I was drunk, for one.”

  “More like past the point of inebriated,” George chuckled, still looking over his papers.

  Reddington ignored him and continued, “The owner was cheating other men, so I came with a stacked deck.”

  I narrowed my eyes, my finger tapping my bottom lip. “A stacked deck?”

  “He duped George and I out of a hundred apexes. Twice. One of the whor—ladies of the night informed me that he used rigged decks. So, I had her sneak one in at our table. The liquor got to my head, and I bet the gambling hall on the first hand.”

  I gasped, holding my hand over my mouth. “The first hand?!”

  “This is why I never mentioned him, Ava. He’s a lunatic,” George jeered, walking over to the fire.

  “It was the liquor,” Reddington murmured with a deep chuckle. He brushed a piece of his blond hair out of his eyes and looked at me.

  “I guess everyone has irrational moments at times.” I shrugged. I knew I’d had mine.

  Reddington leaned forward, taking the chair with him. “Like when you loosened the saddle of Lord Wentz’s horse?” He regarded me, his lips quirking at the corners, and his eyes looking lazily at me. I sat back in my chair, folding my arms to keep my head level.

  “It was Lord Wentz’s son, Thomas. And it was because he called me ugly when I said I didn’t want to kiss him,” I corrected, biting my lip to keep from laughing.

  His eyes constricted, trying to look serious, while his grin said he approved of my actions. “So, you sabotage people’s things when you don’t want to be kissed?”

  “Depends.”

  “On?”

  I kept my eyes locked on his. “On if they deserve it.”

  “And poor Thomas did?”

  I tried to keep a straight face. “Poor Thomas was a spoiled brat who pulled my maid’s hair and threw enormous temper tantrums.”

  “He was a shit,” George agreed, leaning on my chair. “Is there anything else you needed besides dropping these reports off?”

  Reddington shook his head and said, “There wasn’t. Cranfield’s man practically knocked me over when handing them to me. I don’t think the word gentle exists in their vocabulary.”

  George chortled. “Garr wasn’t looking for wobbly men when he made his team. He takes it very seriously.”

  Reddington sighed. “So I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing.”

  George walked over to him, slapping him on the back. “Thank you for sacrificing yourself to bring these over. I’ll see you at the council parley tomorrow.”

  “Well, now that Lady Barlow is here”—he brought his gaze back to me—“I’d like to stay and find out how she is enjoying her stay.”

  I didn’t expect the conversation to come back to me, and the interest in his eyes caught me off guard. Not knowing if it was the obstinate nature that we shared, or that he was just a decent-looking man looking at me with such attentiveness, but he intrigued me. “Are you enjoying your stay?” His question brought me back to the conversation.

  I nodded quickly. “Yes. I am, thank you.”

  He grinned. “I’m happy to hear that, Lady Barlow.” He straightened in his chair. “What marvelous activities do they have you doing here. Knitting, playing the piano, gossiping about—”

  I burst into laughter. “Femme Fatale, no! My goodness, no.” I covered my mouth. “I’ve been playing chess and cards.”

  Reddington raised a brow. “Cards, hm? Not many ladies play.”

  I crossed my arms with a smirk. “I don’t play; I win.”

  He smiled, standing from his chair. “I would love to play you in a game sometime.”

  “I don’t have any gambling halls to wager over, but if you’d like hairpins and books, I’m all in, Lord Reddington.”

  “I’d like that.” He held out his hand to take mine. “George has me running around like a lunatic, running errands”—he kissed the top of my hand—“but I’d like to take you up on your offer.”

  “Start practicing,” I replied. His thumb grazed my palm before releasing it.

  “Until next time.” He strode from the room, flashing a grin over his shoulder at me “See you later, Georgie!”

  I smiled at the closing door, having a feeling that he was going to change my life somehow.

  Garrett

  Chapter 17

  Even after pondering over days of reports, I discovered no new leads on the assassins. Pierce’s men only spoke of a man, dressed in black, that paid them and left abruptly after. Those brutes had no fear and were harder to break than I thought they’d be. Killing one of them got me nowhere, and time was running against me. My patience was wearing down, and I wanted to kill them all with their worthless information. The pressure led me to pace a trail across my red rug in my study, as I racked my brain for more solutions to this everlasting problem. I wouldn’t have but strands of this rug by the time this was all over.

  I had planned on visiting Ava last night, but I had gotten drunk too early and passed out in my desk chair. All thanks to the abrasive Sophia Chitwood. Father had invited her to dinner yesterday evening, and when I eyed him with a glare, he threw in that he had forgotten to mention it. Sophia had reveled in Cecilia’s attention, complimenting her clothing, home, and decor. She had even complimented my father on how handsome a son I was, which made Cecilia choke on her wine.

  That, I appreciated.

  When dinner was over, Sophia had invited herself to walk with me to my room, which I flatly rejected. Instead of bowing out gracefully and leaving me to my thoughts, she linked her arm with mine, chattering on about a woman named Lady Tara or Teresa, who’d caused some type of scandal in her wardrobe. Like I gave a shit.

  “She practically... fell out of the dress!” Sophia said, exasperated, her eyes wide and her crooked nose scrunched up.

  “Maybe she would attract more suitors that way.” The hallway we were walking down started to tilt sideways as I squinted my eyes to find my room. I was buzzed from too much wine and just wanted to collapse on my bed and sleep.

  “Why, Garrett, that was simply unruly! You are lucky we are such good acquaintances.” I eyed her, and she giggled. “Oh, why can’t you accept how lovely a couple we’d be.”

  “I don’t want to be a couple
.”

  She sighed heavily. “You aren’t a spring chicken anymore. You’re a man of position. You need a wife and heirs.”

  “I’m a man that can make my own choices.” I yanked my arm away from hers, wishing I had something else to help me with my balance. I would rather drink myself dead than be married to her. This cat and mouse game was getting old, and I didn’t like being the prey.

  “Are you now? There is talk about us marrying.” I didn’t respond. “My father and yours have been discussing our possible union of marriage.”

  I tsked, pointing my finger at her. “I would’ve had to agree to that.”

  “Which you will.” She eased closer to me as we turned a corner. Her arm brushed against mine, which made me jolt away from her. I never knew that being so repulsed by a woman was humanly possible.

  I rubbed my temple with my fingers, feeling a headache coming on. “And why would I do that, Sophia?” She obviously thought too much of herself, and Father and I hadn’t finalized this fucked up plan of his. I wasn’t doing shit that I hadn’t agreed on yet, and she was the worst bluffer I’d ever heard.

  A slow grin appeared on her face, as she took in the paintings of landscapes on the walls. She kept pace with me, keeping silent as though she was thinking of something I wasn’t aware of. Something she knew would annoy the living shit out of me.

  “Well?” I snapped, breaking the silence between us. “Are you going to speak, or do I get to guess?”

  Sophia glanced up at me, her brown eyes, too big for her face, looking guiltless at me. We both knew that was far from true. She was as cunning as she was persistent.

  “You will agree to marry me,” she murmured, looking down at the floor, before she halted in her steps to gain my full attention. Reluctantly, I turn myself around, my curiosity now getting the better of me. She dragged her gaze up my body and stopped when we were eye to eye. “Because, my dear, you wouldn’t let your sister be put into an arranged marriage to tighten ties with powerful families, would you?”

  I squinted my eyes at her. This was ridiculous. He and I had talked about this; well, I more so told him Hara wasn’t to be pawned off. I would buy time, come up with another solution, make Father happy, and be on my merry way. My father wouldn’t be bullied either by a judge nor be told what to do, so this was gibberish that she was spilling. He knew how I was, and we had an understanding to agree to disagree. It was how our relationship worked.

  “My father would never do that,” I replied flatly. “She’s only sixteen.”

  Her grinned widened. “He did it to Ava Barlow.”

  Shit.

  ∞∞∞

  I slammed my father’s study door, as I stumbled to find my footing in the room. “I thought I told you no!” I bellowed, as I pointed a finger at him.

  He looked over his book and raised his eyebrows. “Weren’t you going to bed?”

  “That was my fucking plan! But my plan also didn’t include Sophia Chitwood telling me that you planned on pawning off my younger sister!” I wobbled over to the drink cart, focusing hard on it, to grab a bottle of whatever expensive liquor Father had.

  “You better pour me a glass as well.” He set his book down on a side table. “This is probably going to be a long, grueling talk.”

  “I assure you, it won’t be that long because you can’t force either of us into a position we don’t want.” The cool bottle of, I think brandy, prickled my heated skin. I sloshed the brandy around, finally getting it into a glass.

  “We’ve spoken about this,” he drawled. “I’ve already explained to you my reasoning behind the agreement.” I shuffled over to my father; his glass in one hand, the bottle for me, in the other.

  “I think I’ve made myself clear,” I gritted, handing him his glass. “She is the worst kind of woman. She is manipulative and cruel. She is for her own personal gain and wouldn’t be a good mother to any children I would have. I don’t trust her.”

  Father exhaled a breath loudly. “You don’t trust anyone, Garrett. Not since these horrendous events have happened.” He moved his hand around in the air. “You used to be a carefree lad. Now you’re cynical and—”

  I rounded on him. “You and George are still alive, aren’t you?! I’m keeping you and everyone safe. Even that ruthless wife of yours.”

  He darted his eyes at me, his voice menacing. “Watch your tongue, son. I won’t start that argument with you again.”

  “No, we won’t.” I began to pace. “Because I won’t be staying long in this room. Sophia is just like Cecilia. I won’t be on a leash in a marriage.”

  He immediately stood from his chair, his jaw tightened. “And you are saying I am?”

  “You let that woman terrorize the servants, and me.” I held my ground, standing in front of him. “Spending loads of money on frivolous things, and being utterly and unnecessarily rude to Ava.”

  Father scowled. “Ava is protected under me.”

  I laughed bitterly, taking a large gulp of brandy straight from the bottle. Lowering it slowly from my mouth, I shot back, “And she is protected by me and my men.”

  “You can’t marry her, Garrett.”

  I froze, turning to face him. Looking down at the bottle in my hand, I wondered if I heard him right. What did protecting her have anything to do marrying? A little befuddled, I tugged on my earlobe, trying to focus on the veering conversation. I pondered the differences of the two women. They were night and day, brandy to water, land to the ocean. Red hair to blonde, my attention pivoted to Ava. Beautiful, smart and—stop. A smartass, yes, beautiful, yes; there wasn’t any denying that Ava Barlow was one of the most captivating females I had ever laid eyes on.

  From her memorizing green eyes to her soft skin, she was untouchable to me. I wasn’t getting married anytime soon, wasn’t going to stay in Telliva, and sure as hell not going to court someone with flowers and gifts.

  “Garrett.” My father’s voice penetrated through the silent room.

  “What?”

  “I see how you look at her.” His words were softer this time. “How you build armies to protect her.”

  My forehead creased. “And that means I want to marry her?”

  He shrugged, sitting back in his chair. “You must have some sort of feelings toward her.”

  I raked my hand through my hair. “She needed to be protected. Your army wasn’t getting the job done.”

  Father slammed his glass on the table with a clink, his brandy spilling out onto the table. “Keep it up with that tongue of yours! I have traitors in my midst while you get to start a band of bandits from scratch, under your fine-tooth comb. I have hundreds of men; you have eight.”

  “And counting,” I sneered.

  “If you oppose my offer with Sophia, Hara will take your spot.”

  My stomach dropped, all the air leaving my lungs. My hands started to shake as I looked at the man who called himself my father, wanting to strangle the life from him. “You can’t do—”

  “I can do whatever I wish with her! I’m her father; she is a young girl.” He focused on me, his eyes tightening, like he was reading my mind. “Aruna regime can’t keep her from me.”

  I threw my bottle, the glass breaking against something, as I took a step toward him. “She is your daughter! You’ve seen what happened to Ava. Hara will be a target. She is impressionable and dreams of love.”

  “She can’t live in a world of naivety forever. She will learn what it is to live within her birthright. She is a daughter of a king; there are responsibilities to that.”

  “And you’d force her into a marriage with whom?”

  “King Lou Defour.”

  “King Lou Defour?”

  Father nodded. I took another step toward him and stopped myself. Any closer, and I’d be tried for attempted murder. No, murder. Rage and fear were the only two things coursing through my veins, which was a dangerous combination.

  “Have you lost your damn mind? That man gets married every few months. Doesn
’t he have over nine wives? Some go missing!”

  He picked up his glass, taking a sip. “He is powerful and is favored upon by his people. We are losing support and money for our assassins’ search. The Lords think they are spending too much of their money. They are starting to lose interest.”

  “We don’t need them!” I exclaimed. “I have my men. They’re loyal to me, paid by me and my lands. We don’t need their money."

  “And how long will your money hold out? Can it support thousands of people? And your eight men are going to protect this whole kingdom, Garr? We have no leads on this enemy. No one knows where they come from, who their leader is. I’m growing tired of going around in circles.” Father rubbed his forehead and reached into his pocket with his other hand, pulling out a cigar and a box of matches.

  I sat across from him. “You are losing faith in me.”

  He shook his head. “Not at all. I grow tired of these terrorists not making a mistake for us to catch them.” He struck a match, lighting his cigar with a few puffs, and returned his attention back to me. “I won’t be around forever, Garr. I need to leave this country in peace before George leads it. I have to do this before I die.”

  “You’re as strong as an ox. You might just outlive us all,” I grumbled, then held out my hand for him to pass me the cigar.

  Father leaned over the table to pass it off. “I need you to do this for George, Hara, this country. I need you married to Chitwood. Her alliance will keep us moving, if not make us stronger than before.” I took a hit off the cigar and groaned as he continued, “You can have a mistress, I’ll even lead the search in the most beautiful one for you. One from the other side of the Earth, if you wish. But this needs to happen—whether it is you...or Hara.”

  My heart plummeted. I never thought it would come to this. Now I understood why Ava was so scared to come here. My father’s power reached everyone, even forcing his own children into arrangements. My jaw twitched at the thought of Ava going through this, feeling every ounce of fury she must have felt.