The Reigning and the Rule

by Calia Read

  His question hangs in the air, and I have no answer for him. I can only shake my head, desperate for him to find another solution but offering none of my own.

  “Serene, you can turn this over in your head until your dyin’ day, but there will never be a clear explanation for how we came together. All I know for certain is I love you but can’t have you,” he says gruffly.

  That might be the kindest rebuff in history, but the translation is loud and clear: we will never be together. Where the truth is, pain isn’t far behind. I should’ve seen this moment coming. But I’d never given Étienne the ultimatum between Scarlett and me. It was always there in the back of my head, but I kept waiting for Étienne to make the decision himself. After everything I’d discovered and the myriad of emotions rushing through me in the past hour, my control snapped. My heart naturally assumed he would pick me. Clearly, that wasn’t happening, and it hurt like a motherfucker.

  Pain so deep my nerves begin to tingle, and it felt like tiny pinpricks against my skin, making my hands shake. Yet a small part of me understood. That didn’t make the reality of us any less agonizing.

  I can feel my eyes brimming with tears. Rapidly, I blink them away. My lashes fluttering against my cheeks like butterfly wings. I knew it was a matter of seconds before I lost it.

  Get out of the room before you fall apart, my mind whispers. Don’t make this worse for yourself.

  Very slowly, I start to walk backward toward the door. My eyes never leave Étienne’s face. My heart pounds, constricting at the very thought of leaving Étienne’s side once again. As with everything in life, the first steps are always the hardest. The ones leading me to the closed doors seem to take hours until finally I glance over my shoulder and see the shiny brass knobs behind me. I curl my hand around one of them as if it’s an anchor.

  I take a deep shuddering breath. “I understand you love me, but you have to do what you feel is right for you. However, I have to do the same for myself and that means not watching you make the biggest mistake of your life.”

  “Don’t go,” Étienne says, his voice a ragged whisper. “Please.”

  “I have to.”

  The seconds that follow are a blur. All I know is Étienne doesn’t stop me from leaving, and I wait until the door is firmly closed behind me to let the tears freely fall. The sad part is, if he would’ve asked me which time I truly belonged in, I think I would’ve said this time. His time. But he didn’t.

  As I hurry down the stairs, I come to the realization that I’ll never be a secret keeper of the South, but I now understand why Charlestonians keep quiet.

  Some pain is too great to bear in public.

  I hear the front door slam and wince. My steps are slow but deliberate as I stride toward the windows and watch as Serene walks toward the car where Livingston and Nicholas are talking. The minute Nicholas sees her, he ceases all conversation with my brother. I grip the windowsill and fight the urge to rip it off the wall; even from where I’m standing, I can see the look in his eyes and recognize the yearning there. He wants her for himself, and I can’t do a damn thing about it because I’m engaged to his sister.

  Sunlight gleams off Serene’s hair, highlighting the golden strands. I fight the urge to go downstairs and tell her to come back inside where she belongs.

  Feeling regret over what we did is not going to happen. In fact, all that was running through my mind while she was in my arms was finally. The memory is a powerful tool, but it’s no match for the real thing. However, I am remorseful I didn’t answer Serene fast enough. That I didn’t tell her I love her and everything would work out between us.

  But how could I keep the third promise when I, myself, was unsure if everything would be okay? That was my problem to begin with. The main reason I proposed to Scarlett and why I dug my heels in the ground when Serene gave me the ultimatum.

  I realize Serene and I both have our own separate set of problems. She can’t forgive me for what I’ve done. And I can’t forget what time has done to me. The scars are too raw and painful to tend to.

  My eyes bore into the side of Nicholas’s profile as he leans in and listens to Serene talk. He’s far too comfortable and places a hand on her arm. It’s a soothing yet borderline dominating gesture, and Serene is too upset to notice what he’s up to. He wants every man to know within a sixty-mile radius that his intent is to make her his. As if he can sense me staring, he glances toward the ballroom windows and looks directly at me. Slowly, his lips curl into a grin.

  Muttering a curse, I push away from the window and walk out of the ballroom, bypassing my bedroom and servants to head toward my office. I need to keep myself busy. Otherwise, I’m gonna go outside and kill Nicholas. Something tells me he’s waiting for that to happen so he can come out on top. With my hands fisted at my sides, I walk past Ben and slam my office door and start to pace in my office.

  I hear Serene’s laughter and stop in my tracks. Why did I think it was a good idea to come downstairs? Now I’m merely closer to her.

  Dragging all ten fingers through my hair, I take a deep breath and close my eyes. My love for this woman is never-ending. It’s timeless. I’d kill for her. Hell, even though she’s furious with me right now, I know she’d kill for me. But as much as I loved her, I knew time would never completely give her to me, and it was agonizing. Torture of the highest order.

  Right then, an image of her straddling me, kicking her head back and moaning comes into my mind. Even though that happened less than fifteen minutes ago, my cock is already hard again. I rest my palms against my desk and try to calm down. The minutes tick by, and I hear the car doors slam. The engine starts, and the tires crunch across the gravel. I lift my head and look out the window, watching as Serene drifts farther away from me. My heart jumps before I close my eyes and hang my head.

  Before I can pull my thoughts together, someone bursts through the door. I lift my head, eyes blazing, and find my sister breezing into my office with her head held high. “Étienne, I need to speak with you.”

  Sighing, I straighten to my full height. “Nathalie, now is not the time.”

  She watches me with concern. “Is everything okay? I saw Serene leave. She was supposed to speak with me, but she appeared to be in quite a hurry.” Nat taps a finger against her chin. “Now I wonder, what made her so upset?”

  I ignore my sister’s last—and certainly meddlesome—question and answer the first, “No, everything is not okay. But that’s to be expected.”

  Rather than leaving, she stays put. I flick an annoyed glance at her. “Can you leave me for a moment?”

  She dips her head and smiles. “Of course.”

  The door softly closes behind her, and I’m blissfully left alone with my thoughts in the silence. But only for a few seconds because Nat bursts right back in, her cheeks as red as tomatoes.

  “You know what? No. I’m tired of you bossin’ me around. I have somethin’ to say to you.”

  Not once have I ever heard Nat raise her voice to anyone. She loves everyone and gives people second, third, and fourth chances. I arch a brow, curious to listen to what she has to say, and gesture to the seat across from mine. “By all means, don’t let me stop you. Tell me your thoughts.”

  With her hands on her hips, she approaches me. “You need to make up your mind, Étienne Alexandre.”

  The last time I was middle-named, it was during my childhood and by my mother. Even now, the way Nat’s staring at me is nostalgic of how our mother would look at all of us when we were in trouble. “What are you talkin’ about?”

  “I think you know what I’m talkin’ about.” She places her hands on my desk and gives me a perceptive look. “I know you still love Serene. I see the way you watch her.”

  I avert my gaze and don’t reply.

  “Do you love Scarlett?”

  “As a person? Yes.”

  “That’s not what I’m askin’, and you know that. Do you love Scarlett as a spouse? As a lover?”

  Havi
ng this conversation with my youngest sibling goes beyond the bounds of uncomfortable. I clear my throat and begin arranging paperwork on my desk. “I don’t think I’m comfortable havin’ this conversation with my little sister.”

  “Havin’ this conversation with my older brother is not exactly the highlight of my afternoon either, but it needs to be done because I like Scarlett. I consider her a friend.” She hesitates. “But I love Serene. She risked her life for us.”

  My head shoots up. “I know that. You don’t think I know that?”

  “So what are you doin’ wastin’ your time with Scarlett when you could be with Serene?” she says, her voice going up an octave.

  “It’s complicated, Nat.”

  “How so?”

  This bolder, confident side of my sister who dares to defy authority is something I’m not used to or ready for. I slam my hands on the desk. “Damnit. I’m not discussin’ this with you.”

  “Why not?” she prods.

  I grind my teeth. “Because I have no desire to speak with anyone about this. It’s a private matter.”

  “Perhaps you should.”

  “There’s no need,” I draw out slowly yet firmly. “I’ve discussed it with Livingston.”

  “That’s the problem. Listen, I love Livingston, too, but he’s a confirmed bachelor.” Nat points at her outfit. “I’ve had a longer relationship with this dress than he’s had with a woman. What were you thinkin’ to take advice from him?”

  “His advice was sound.”

  “His advice led you to the predicament you’re in now,” Nat points out.

  When did my younger sister become so wise? I stare at her for a long second before I dip my head in acknowledgment. “Very well said. Now, are you finished?”

  “No. I’m not.” Nat’s lips draw into a thin line, but sympathy is etched into her eyes. “You need to make up your mind, Étienne. Scarlett or Serene.”

  The second time I’ve been given this ultimatum today. Did Serene and Nat have a conversation this morning that I didn’t know about?

  “It’s—”

  “Complicated.” Nat waves a hand in the air. “Yes, yes. I know what you’re gonna say. But the truth is, you’re scared.”

  Laughing, I push away from my desk and walk toward the windows. “Hardly.”

  “You are,” Nat says, walking toward me. “You are terrified Serene is gonna leave and then come back. And the cycle will continue to repeat itself. That’s why you unwisely listened to Livingston and settled for Scarlett.” She takes a deep breath. “Make up your mind, Étienne. They’re both wonderful ladies.”

  I don’t reply but stare out the window. I know my sister is right.

  Nat sighs and rests her head against my arm. “I know I’m exasperating you. But for what it’s worth, I ’d rather have two seconds of love than a lifetime of misery. You must ask yourself which woman gives you the most love.”

  She lifts her head and gives my shoulder a light pat before she walks out of the room. I stare out at the stretch of land in front of me and the trees lining the driveway. None of this—none of us—would be here if it weren’t for Serene. And how have I repaid her? By breaking her heart. That is the last thing I ever wanted to do.

  Now I need to make everything right.

  With a plan in place, sleeping is nearly impossible. I fluff my pillow a dozen times to no avail. My apprehension and excitement are reminiscent of the time I was preparing to go to Charleston and find a way back to Étienne. How times have changed.

  The hours seem to slowly tick by, but finally, the clock turns four. I get out of bed and find the maid, Mollie, waiting by my door. She helps me get dressed in a “travel suit” Madame Bourgeois sent over days ago. It’s a dark green. The skirt is less restrictive, and the buttons on the jacket define my narrow waist.

  Mollie’s bleary-eyed and quiet as she helps me get ready. My hands are shaking so bad you’d think I had a triple shot of espresso from Starbucks. I tuck them underneath my thighs as she brushes my hair in front of the vanity. She’s so tired she doesn’t fight me when I ask her to put my hair in a simple French braid.

  When she’s finished, she goes back to helping me pack. I don’t know why, though. I’ve been packed since the minute I found out where Asa was and told Livingston my plans to go to New Orleans. In the past, he’s aligned himself with his brother, and I honestly expected him to do the same in this situation too. But he didn’t try to talk me out of it or alert Étienne. He quietly told me he would arrange for me to leave as soon as possible. Whether it was out of regret for telling Étienne to move on with his life or merely an act of kindness, it didn’t matter. All that matters is he helped me, and I’m grateful.

  When Mollie is finished, I thank her, and she scurries out of the room. I grab the suitcase Livingston let me borrow and scan the room one last time. If I have any say in the matter, this will be the last time I see this room and Charleston. God willing, I’ll find Asa, and when I do, I can find out where Emmeline is and warn her that she’s in danger, and then I can go home.

  I’m not staying here and watching Étienne marry someone else. Over my dead body. With a sigh, I walk out the door and head toward Livingston’s room. I rap my knuckles on the door four times and wait. When I hear nothing, I knock again, louder this time.

  “Livingston, we need to get going.”

  There’s some rustling inside, and I hear him mumbling.

  “I’m going downstairs, and I’ll meet you in the car, okay?”

  He grumbles an answer. I roll my eyes and walk down the hall. Gripping the hem of my skirt so I don’t fall down the stairs, I head to the foyer. At this time of the morning, the only servants who are up are the cooks. The rest of the house is silent, almost eerily so. I open the front door and shiver from the unexpected chill in the air. Well, the chill for Charleston. Anywhere else and it’d be considered mildly warm.

  My heels click on the cobblestone pathway as I head toward the Model T waiting toward the front of the house. My hands and heart tingle with anticipation.

  Some people might say I’m running away from a problem, and they might be right. But I prefer to think that my adventure is truly about to begin. I’m halfway to the car when my head begins to pound. The ache is abrupt and so knifelike. I stop and hiss in a sharp breath. After a few seconds, the pain abates.

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” I say aloud. “It’s just because I didn’t get any sleep.”

  But I’m mere steps away from the car when the second slice of pain rocks thought my head. This time, I drop my suitcase and stumble forward. My knees bear the weight of my fall as I cover my eyes with my hands.

  I knew what was going on. What I didn’t know was why.

  Why? Why? Why?

  Is it because I slept with Étienne? Or perhaps I was on my way to speak with Asa? Or maybe—

  My thoughts effectively flee as the agony intensifies to the point where tears pool in the corner of my eyes.

  There’s a multitude of thoughts running through my head right now. I’m still present in this time. I need to gather the strength and call out for Livingston. I need help. Enduring this type of pain isn’t normal. But if you would’ve asked me minutes ago, I would’ve readily said I’d do anything to leave this time. Now that it’s happening, the panic is sinking in right along with the pain, and I’m seeing all that I’m about to lose and possibly never see again.

  “No,” I groan. “Make it stop.”

  For whatever reason, it’s time for me to go. Even though I made absolutely no headway with Emmeline or Asa, and my relationship with Étienne is even more fragile than when I first arrived.

  As my skull vibrates with unbearable pain, the world around me begins to change. It’s a slow metamorphosis. Almost as if the sky’s a giant vacuum, sucking up the scenery. One by one, the trees are uprooted. Soil trickles down around me, and the grass is almost like colored raindrops being sucked back into the sky.

  My eyes close. The pain sh
oots through my body although I can feel the environment changing around me. The ground gives out beneath me.

  At the very last second, my mouth opens. I scream out for Étienne. I know my plea rocks through the Holy City and skims the surface of the Ashley River. Weaves in and out of the Tupelo gum trees and races up the long, winding driveway of Belgrave. It bypasses the front door. Goes straight for a bedroom window where it finds a small crack between the glass and the frame. My scream finds Étienne, rips him out of a deep sleep, and makes him immediately sit upright and alert.

  And as I reach for him, I know he does the same for me.

  I just know it.

  PART II

  “The past is rich history. The present is sacred inscription. The future is yet to be written.”

  — Lailah Gifty Akita

  I’m familiar with the fall.

  I’m intimate with having my body simultaneously being pulled in two different directions and an excruciating headache rocking through my temples. I know all too well how it feels to have the blackness swallow me whole and know I can’t do a damn thing about it.

  So the minute I open my eyes, I know I’m back in my own time. I just don’t understand why. I didn’t find Asa. I never had the opportunity to talk to Emmeline and find out what really happened to her. I slept with Étienne, but things were left in limbo with him.

  My mind stops at the last thought. I slept with him.

  I slept with him.

  We weren’t on excellent terms, but that didn’t mean I loved him any less or didn’t crave his presence. The ache that always appears when he slips out of my life slowly starts to fill me with panic, and a deep-rooted sense of sadness and loneliness seeps in.