A Father's Insistence (Dark Sovereignty Book 3)
Page 9
I press a kiss to her forehead in gratitude.
“It looks beautiful. Am I allowed a slice?”
“Of course.” Joanna reaches forward and pulls a knife from next to the cake and cuts me a large slice. She places it on a plate and hands it to me. My butler enters the room, at that point, with a cup of what appears to be tea in his hand.
“Lady Hamilton insisted this is the best tea to drink with her cake.” He places the tea down, bows, and leaves.
I bring the slice of cake to my mouth and take a bite. The apple, cinnamon, and crisp sugar topping elicits a moan of pleasure from my mouth.
“It’s delicious.” I take another bite and then a sip of tea. “Perfect.”
“You really like it?” Joanna stands hopeful on her tiptoes.
“Don’t tell the chef, but I think it’s better than his cakes.”
I give her another kiss to the forehead and quickly wipe away the crumbs I leave there.
“I loved making it with my grandmother. It was something I liked to do whenever I was upset. It’s normal, so very normal, and it’s just what I need before…” She shuts her eyes when she says the final words. I put the half-eaten slice down.
“Joanna, please tell me what is wrong? It’s not just the cake is it?”
She inhales deeply and reaches for an envelope on the sideboard.
“I should have given this to you sooner. I brought it with me when I was rescued.” She hands me the envelope, but the shake in her hand tells me something isn’t right here. She’s keeping something from me. I’m not sure what. I open the envelope and am greeted with a picture of Nicholas Cavendish and a painting. My father told me the society was famous for stealing paintings to fund its activities. If this is what I think it is, it could be the key to bringing down the current leader of a corrupt society, making it good again.
“Joanna, do you know what this is? Is this the only copy?”
She nods and then shakes her head.
“Yes. It’s Nicholas with a stolen Van Gogh painting. The photo implicates him in the theft of it. I had another copy made this afternoon. It’s stored in my room.”
“It does incriminate him. I need to think.” I start to pace the kitchen area. My head tells me to take this straight to the police and have him arrested, which would be the best way of bringing him down. But my heart is telling me to use it to do the one thing I’ve wanted to do from the start, and that is to ensure the safety of my sister, my niece, and my sister’s friend, Tamara.
“What are you going to do?”
“I should take it to the police?”
She nods at me.
“You should, but you’re not going to, are you?”
I pick up my slice of cake and take a final bite before heading for the door.
“Go up in your bedroom, lock the door, and don’t answer it to anyone but me.”
I don’t wait for an answer. I know she’ll do as I ask. Instead, I grip the envelope tightly to my chest and make my way through the house, grabbing my keys from where I threw them earlier and go back out to the car.
It doesn’t take long for me to travel across London and into the suburbs, heading for Oakfield Hall. It takes even less time for me to be given an audience with Nicholas because I storm straight past his butler and into the current Duke’s office. He is alone and looks up from a pile of paper with a frustrated expression on his face.
“I guess I shouldn’t expect you to have the manners of good breeding, considering who your father is,” he sneers at me and stands up. “What can I do for you brother-in-law?”
The words linking us together as family have me stomping across the room and pounding a fist into Nicholas’ smug face.
“I’ll never be a brother to you in any way, shape, or form. You disgust me. I’m here to put an end to your hold over my sister and Tamara, and in doing so, protect my niece.”
Nicholas rubs at his cheek where I hit him but doesn’t go down or attempt to retaliate. Instead, he looks tired and bored with the conversation.
“How many times do I have to spell it out? I’m in love with your sister. She’s chosen to be with me and willingly given me a child. I’ve put your sister on a pedestal and will worship her forever. I’m not the evil man you think I am. You’ve been severely misinformed, and if only you’d listened to your sister, you’d understand that.”
I cut him off,
“I’m not going to listen to lies instilled into her with violent beatings and rape.”
He grabs my shirt.
“I’ve never once taken your sister without her consent. You need to listen to yourself. Your listening to the diatribe of a man who gave his daughter up to be abused by a society full of corruption. I’m putting a stop to that. Together with your sister.”
I push him away forcefully.
“You expect me to believe all that when I have to listen to Joanna screaming and crying every night because of what you and your freak of a brother did to her?”
Nicholas has been calm until now, but my mention of his brother and the stigma that’s been attached to him since birth sends him into a rage of monumental proportions. He lunges at me, and despite dodging him, he catches me in the stomach with a winding blow. I cough through the sudden pain and launch myself back at him in a flurry of fists.
“My brother is different to the norm, but he isn’t a freak. It’s a medical spectrum.”
We trade blows as we continue to shout at one another.
“And my wife is forever damaged because of what you did to her.”
“I didn’t touch her! I didn’t buy her that night.”
“No, you got one of your old pals to do it instead, didn’t you? Not satisfied with having one woman you wanted them all.”
“When are you going to shut up and start listening? It was your father who bought her.”
“Liar!”
I send a harsh punch into Nicholas’ face, but it misses at the last minute when I’m pulled away. Spinning around, I find William glaring at me.
“You need to listen to him,” the younger brother spits out and lets go of me to stand tall beside the older one.
“I don’t need to listen to either of you. I’ve got all the proof here I need to destroy you.” I pull the picture from my pocket and hand it to Nicholas. He goes pale and hands it to his brother.
“It captures your good side at least.” William shrugs, and Nicholas rolls his eyes.
“This isn’t what you think it is.”
He looks across to the picture.
“So, it’s not you stealing one of the world’s most expensive paintings by a very famous artist. One that was stolen in 2010 and has only just been recovered. In London, incidentally.”
“He’s got you there,” William informs his brother.
“Not helping at the moment,” Nicholas responds through gritted teeth.
William rolls his eyes and takes a seat at one of the desks.
“All right, it is me who is stealing the picture, but I was also the one who gave it back. I was told to steal it during my father’s rule, and at that time, I didn’t disobey him.
I shake my head, not believing a word coming out of this man’s mouth. I doubt he even knows what is right and wrong anymore with all the lies he’s spinning.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours to have Victoria, Tamara, and Rose delivered to my house with all their belongings. After which time, you and your brother will leave London and never contact them again. If this doesn’t happen, I’ll be sending this straight to the police. Your reign of terror is over.”
“I’m not giving my wife up.” William jumps to his feet, and still holding the picture, he rips it up.
A malevolent chuckle escapes my lips with triumphant glee.
“If you think that’s the only copy, then you’re not as bright as I’ve been led to believe.”
Turning back to face Nicholas, I stare him down,
“Twenty-four hours. The clock is ticking.”
Chapter Fourteen
Joanna
I know Theo told me to go to my room and lock the door, but I can’t. A heavy knot sits deep in my stomach. Guilt weighs heavily on me. I don’t know for certain what he’s doing at the moment, but I know it will involve his sister. He cares deeply for her and will use the evidence I gave him to fight for her. But I can’t help fearing that he’s rescuing her from the good and drawing her back into the path of evil, especially when his father finds out what he’s done. I’ve made everything so much worse, but what was I supposed to have done? Everything is a horrible mess. I need space to breathe and to clear my head.
I race back through the kitchen, not stopping to talk when a few of the staff ask me if I’m all right. Running up to my room, I retrieve a pair of sandals and a cardigan and put them on, then grab a small handbag I know has some change in it. Theo gave me a mobile phone the other day, but it has a tracking feature in it. Not wanting to be followed, I leave it behind. Making sure the coast is clear, I leave the house by the front door and escape down the long driveway before anyone can see me.
My pulse is racing the entire time. I can’t believe I’m being so bold. What if the Viscount finds out and comes after me? Is he watching the house? My eyes dart around me, making sure I can’t see him anywhere. I should go back. This is foolish. No, I’m a strong woman. I can do this. I keep walking, and with every step, I’m led farther away from the house. My pulse starts to slow, and I feel normal—if normal is measurable anymore.
The sunlight of the warm September day beats down on me, and tipping my head back, its rays illuminate my pale skin. I’d almost forgotten how bright it can be when the sun shines. Darkness has consumed far too much of my life recently, and it feels good to have a little light in it. Light like I experienced when making love to my husband and feeling complete for the first time. Sadly I was only dreaming when I thought it could lead to a happily ever after. That’s not in my future any time soon – probably never.
“Heh,” a masculine voice calls out, and following its deep tones, I see a man and woman embracing in the street. He’s dressed in a smart suit and carries a briefcase. He looks like he’s just come from work. The woman is pushing a stroller with a child sucking on a bottle of milk sat in it.
“I can’t believe it!” the woman exclaims with excitement. “How long must it have been?”
“At least five years,” the man responds. “I think the last time I saw you was graduation day. My god, I was so drunk at the end of that party. Did you see Timmy Collins? He was dancing on the table with the dean’s wife.”
“I remember that.” The woman laughs. “He was so drunk. I think there was talk of taking his degree away from him straight after the incident.”
They both laugh louder, and the child looks around to see what is capturing his mummy’s amusement.
“Yeah, I think he kept it in the end. Along with the dean’s wife. They are married now and have a son.”
“Really?”
The man nods with wide-eyed delight. Just then the child drops his bottle onto the ground and begins to grumble. Bending down, the man picks the bottle up and hands it to the woman who thanks him. She sucks on the nipple and gives it back to her child who mutters something that also sounds like a thank you in baby language. My hand instantly goes to my flat belly, and I repeat the silent prayer to keep me from falling pregnant until I can find a way out of the mess I’m in.
“Who’s this little one then?” the man asks.
“This is Jamie. He’s three next week.”
“Three. Wow. Big boy!” The man ruffles the top of the little boy’s head, but Jamie’s more interested in draining his bottle of all the milk. “I see a lot of you in him. I bet his father likes that. I know I’ve always wanted to see a lot of my wife in any children I have.”
The woman’s expression changes, becoming dark and furious.
“He wouldn’t know. I caught him sleeping with my best friend the week after I found out I was pregnant, and I’ve not seen him since. I told him about Jamie, but he isn’t interested. It’s been a nightmare trying to get some child support out of him.”
“Jerk!” The man shakes his head, and his face turns red with anger. “Some men shouldn’t be allowed to become fathers.” He looks up to where a small café is situated. “Look, can I buy you a coffee, and the little mite a biscuit or something?”
The woman takes a second to answer. I can see her weighing up her options of returning home to what is probably a lonely house with nobody but her and her son, or enjoying the company of another adult for a little while longer.
“Yes, why not.”
The man motions for her to go first, and I watch them a little while longer until they disappear into the café. The two of them hadn’t seen each other in a long while, but the bonds of their friendship have lasted, and I’d like to think they’ll catch up with each other and not lose touch again. There has to be some hope in this world.
A scream off to my left captures my attention, and I start to watch another couple. A man dressed in a tatty T-shirt and ripped jeans is holding a woman by the throat and is shouting obscenities at her. The woman is dressed in jeans and a tunic top, and her pink, orange, and blue hair is scraped back in a pony tail, but as she pleads with him to let her go, it starts to come undone. I take a step closer to them, feeling an insane urge within me to help her. But my heart is racing, and gripped with fear, I’m unable to do anything. Instead, I become rooted to the spot and watch like a voyeur as the scene evolves. I’m not the only one, though. Others around me stop and stare while some continue walking by and even step into the road to get past them. No one goes to help the woman.
“You fucking whore! How long has he been sticking his filthy dick in your cunt?”
“Listen to yourself, Damien. You’ve gone insane. I’ve never once slept with your brother. I’m your girlfriend, for crying out loud.”
“I’d believe my own brother over a skanky piece of dick warmer like you. He said you like it up the ass, and I know just how greedy you are when it comes to anal.”
The woman tries her hardest to escape from her captor, but he has her too closely held around the neck.
“I can’t breathe.”
“I should snap your fucking neck.”
“You wouldn’t.” The woman’s eyes go wild with fear. “The baby, Damien.”
I hadn’t noticed before, but the woman’s stomach is swollen large with a child growing inside her.
“What? A cracked-up bastard. I’ve got no idea whose piece of shit you’re growing. It could be anyone’s. If you’ve opened your legs for my brother, then I want to know who the fuck else you’ve fucked?”
“No one. It’s your baby,” the woman screams, and the man slaps her hard across the face. Her lip splits open, and blood starts to drip from it. An elderly gentleman steps up to the couple. I want to tell him not to approach them because I know what could happen to him, and to her for that matter, while this man is so angry. An angry man is a dangerous thing. My mouth opens but then closes again without saying a word. Tears pool in my eyes, and I need to look away, but something forces me to keep watching. It’s like a car crash on a motorway: you need to concentrate on the road, but human nature forces you to look at the devastation.
“I think that’s enough.” The elderly gentleman tries to stand up tall.
“Fuck off, grandad,” the angry man spits at him. “Or you’re next.”
“Damien!” The woman screams and squirms, her hair flopping all over her face.
“You need to step away from her,” the older man continues, but Damien’s had enough, and letting go of his partner’s
throat, he wraps his hands tightly around her multi-colored hair and yells, “I said stay the fuck out of it.” He then balls his fist and sends it flying into the face of the elderly gentleman who immediately drops straight down onto the ground and lies there unmoving. A few of those watching scream in shock but no sound comes from my mouth. I’ve seen men like Damien before. He’s nothing but a bully. Sirens wail in the distance, and the woman’s still screaming. Damien lets her go and disappears down the street as fast as he can.
“Stupid old man.” The woman spits blood onto the unconsciousness form on the ground. “This is all your fault. If he gets arrested, I’ll find you. Next time, mind your own business.”
The woman takes off running, just as a police car grinds to a halt at the scene. I can’t watch anymore. To go from seeing a man so kind and friendly toward a woman and child, and then to witness violence so extreme and unnecessary, leaves me conflicted about the world. Maybe it isn’t just me who experiences the hell I’m in? In a bit of a daze, I stumble farther along the street. If the first woman has lost her man, could she find happiness with another? Her old friend, maybe? What about the second? Will she continue to be blinded to the truth about the man she insists is the father of her unborn child? Or is she what Damien said she was? A ‘crack whore’ who will destroy the life of the child growing inside her. There are always two sides to the story. Heaven and hell.
Someone bumps into me, and I stumble back.
“I’m sorry.” The man reaches out to grab me before I fall. My skin heats, and I can feel the palpitations starting. He’s touching me. Is he going to hurt me? “Are you ok?” The man’s brow furrows, and he looks at me with genuine concern. I can’t speak to him, though. I need to put distance between me and him. I push him away and start to run. I’ve lost track of where I am, and nothing looks familiar. Why did I do this? I wasn’t ready. I need to rid myself of the evil stalking me at every turn before I can try to be a normal person again. I’m the only one who can put a stop to this.