“I don’t need to defend my degree to you or to anyone else,” Alton said, the crimson creeping up his neck. “The difference is that I use my degree. You need to face the fact. It’s time to move home, stop playing student, and get married.”
“This isn’t 1920, 1950, or even 1980! I don’t need to marry.”
“Dear, calm down.”
I blinked my eyes hoping that if I did it enough times the scene in front of me would change. “I’m not saying I’ll never marry. I’m saying I’m only twenty-three years old.”
“You’ll be twenty-four soon enough, and weddings take time. To really do it right, we’ll need at least a year to plan.” Mother lowered her voice. “We don’t want people thinking you had to get married.”
My head began to twitch. The world was jumpy, like an old television that had difficulty keeping a signal. “You are saying I have to get married. It may not be because of pregnancy, but what you’re discussing is a shotgun wedding nevertheless.”
“No one is putting a gun to your head. Stop being so dramatic,” Alton said dismissively as he stood and refilled his tumbler of Cognac.
I stood with a huff and paced back and forth in front of the large windows, my palms clenching and unclenching. Finally, I turned. “You said clauses. What clauses?”
“We can discuss that tomorrow.”
“No, we can discuss it today.”
Raising his chin, Alton’s eyes closed. “Hmm. I don’t have the wording memorized exactly, but there’s a clause about education. Undergraduate is specifically mentioned. Thankfully, Ralph was reviewing the document and found it.”
Thankfully?
“So you’re saying that it was intended to pay for my undergraduate degree, but not postgraduate? And you’re telling me after my first semester has been paid?”
“It was an oversight, dear.” She looked to Alton and back to me. “We discussed it at some length. It all became more pressing when Bryce’s incident became public.”
“You want me to marry Bryce. I don’t even have a say in who I marry?”
“It’s a matter of name. The Carmichael name and Montague, it’s a match made in blue-blood heaven. Your grandfather would approve.”
“Re-appropriated?” I asked Alton. “My money has been re-appropriated to where?”
“Again, the wording escapes me. However, the intended reasoning was for your focus, following college, to be on Montague. If you refuse to honor your obligation, in your absence the funds remaining in the trust revert back to the estate.”
I stared in disbelief. “To you. To both of you. You have my money available to you and you’re not giving it to me? Mother, you’re holding my education hostage so I’ll become you? Is that what you really want? You want to see me in an unhappy arranged marriage and not fulfill my dream?”
“Dear, we all have dreams. That’s what sleep is for. Life has responsibilities. Your responsibility is to Montague.” She reached for Alton’s hand and squeezed. They’d put on the performance for so long, they probably believed it themselves—when they weren’t arguing. “My marriage isn’t unhappy. Marriage takes work and compromise…”
I stopped listening to her before she began. Instead, I was preoccupied doing mental math. I had a few accounts and credit cards. I didn’t want to be in debt, but maybe if I could start class, and find a job, I could look into student loans. I’d never had a job or needed credit, but surely, a law student at Columbia was a good credit risk.
“…coming for dinner tonight. He wanted to see you.”
I turned my attention back to my mother. “Repeat that.”
“He wants to see you.”
“He, as in Bryce?”
“Well, yes. Whom else would I be talking about?”
“No.”
“Excuse me?” she asked.
I walked toward the archway. “No. I have one semester. I’m taking it.”
“Alexandria,” Alton said, “technically, we could withdraw the payment for this semester. It was made in error.”
I swallowed my pride and concentrated on my mother. Moving to her, I knelt beside her knees and reached for her hand. “Momma, give me the one semester. Let me try to do this. I’m not saying I’ll never marry. Let me do what you never could.”
When she started to look at Alton, I squeezed her hand. “I am a Montague. You are a Montague. If you support me, no one can stop it.”
Her chin dropped as she exhaled. “No more money.”
“I have some cash. I’ll get a job.”
Tears moistened her blue eyes. “You’re so strong.”
I wasn’t. I was scared to death. I also wasn’t going to be railroaded into a lifetime sentence.
“This is a waste of your time and money,” Alton repeated his case. “If you do the sensible thing and withdraw from classes, we’ll let you keep the tuition.”
I straightened myself, stood tall, and pulled my shoulders back. “Say that again.”
“If you do the sensible thing, we’ll let you keep the tuition.”
I smirked and looked at Adelaide. “Did you hear that?” Before she could answer, I continued, “That tuition money is mine. I want to use it for Columbia.”
“What about your rent? What about other expenses?”
“I’ll find a job.”
Alton scoffed while my mother shook her head. Finally, she said, “Montague women aren’t meant for jobs. We’re meant for carrying on the name.”
“What name? My grandfather put this archaic clause in my trust fund and he was the one who let the name end. There are no more Montagues. Forever, it’s destined to be a middle name.”
“Alexandria Charles Montague Collins, whether it’s a middle name or not, Montague blood runs through your veins as strongly as Collins blood. It doesn’t matter if it’s passed on by a female or male, you are heir to one of the most prominent families this state or nation has ever known.”
I shook my head. “Bravo, Mother. If you’re right that it doesn’t matter, then make the decision. Give me one semester, because the way I feel right now, I’m not discussing this calmly over dinner with Bryce. I’m not marrying Bryce, and I’m not moving home. I’m leaving Montague Manor today with or without your blessing. If you ever want me to return, my leaving and one semester will be with your blessing.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “The choice is yours.”
“Laide, we discussed our daughter’s ploys.”
“I am not your daughter!” I snapped.
Faster than I knew he could move, Alton stood and his open palm slapped my cheek.
Stunned, I took a step back. Turning to my mother I asked, “What do you say?”
MY HANDS SHOOK as I got into the backseat of the taxi outside of Montague Manor. “To the airport.”
I didn’t say another word to the driver as he drove the long oak-lined drive. I couldn’t form words, not in coherent sentences. I’d done well, in my opinion, during the confrontation. It was afterward, in my room with Jane, that I lost it.
Jane told me that Brantley would drive me wherever I wanted to go, but I didn’t trust him. She was the only one I trusted at Montague Manor. I sucked in my breath and clenched my teeth together when the taxi reached the gate. I wouldn’t have put it past Alton to have the watchman stop the taxi. It wasn’t until we were free of the grounds of the estate that I remembered to breathe. Sitting silently, with my Montague head held high, I watched the passing landscape as we drove into Savannah. This driver wasn’t on Alton’s payroll, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be bought. I didn’t want him to know where I was truly going.
I’d left the manor in too much of a hurry to book a flight. Besides it was Sunday, and the Savannah airport wasn’t that big. Sunday evening departures were few and far between. My plan was to be dropped at the airport and then take another taxi to a nearby hotel. I would find an early morning flight or I’d rent a car and drive to Atlanta. I didn’t care, as long as it was away from Montague Manor.
My
mind slid to Jane. I loved her as I should love my mother. She was the one who was always there for me. She was the one who rocked me when I was little and put the bandages on my scraped knees. She was the one who worked to protect me from the monsters that lurked in the shadows. My mother hadn’t been there then. Why did I think she’d be there now?
Tears threatened as I considered the possibility that this could be the last time I was ever home, ever in Savannah, maybe even in Georgia.
I’d walked calmly out of the sitting room when silence followed my question to Adelaide. I didn’t want to hear any more of Alton’s reasoning or Adelaide’s excuses. I made it all the way to my bedroom before I let the pain register.
Everything I’d worked for, everything I’d accomplished while away at Stanford was for naught. According to them, it was a four-year reprieve, my chance to see the world. It wasn’t about education or bettering myself. They didn’t know how hard I’d worked to bury Alexandria and create Alex. None of it mattered.
Alexandria Charles Montague Collins had her time away, now she had a duty. They didn’t care about my dream of law school, because the only dream I should have had was to marry, continue the bloodline, and live the genteel life of illusion.
As I threw my possessions into my suitcase, I left the dresses my mother bought for me wadded up at the bottom of the closet, along with all the other gifts she’d left around the room. They weren’t for me. They were for Alexandria.
For maybe the last time, my comfort came from Jane. She wrapped me in her arms as the hurt and rage came out of me in deep hiccupping sobs. I hadn’t cried like that since… since him. Though she rubbed my back and told me it would be all right, I knew, just like last time, it wouldn’t.
The blessing I’d requested from my mother in the sitting room came via Jane. It was my mother who gave it, just not in person. I had one semester and some money in my checking and savings accounts in California. It wasn’t much, but it would get me to New York. Even if I survived until the holidays, even with my mother’s blessing, Jane and I both knew the beginning of the year would signal my death.
If I didn’t return to Montague Manor, I never could. I’d be dead to my family.
If I did return, I’d be dead to me.
Either way, my diagnosis was terminal.
My phone vibrated with a text message:
Chelsea: “CALL ME!”
I’d turned off my ringer. I wasn’t ready to talk to anyone.
Me: “I WILL. GIVE ME A FEW.”
Chelsea: “WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED? ARE YOU COMING HOME?”
Me: “LATERS.”
In all the madness, my best friend still made me smile. This time she’d done it without even knowing. She did it by calling our apartment home. As usual, Chelsea was right. The two-bedroom flat we shared had been more of a home to me than Montague Manor had ever been. My shoulders straightened and I sucked in a breath as we pulled under the Departures sign.
I had a home in Palo Alto and I would find one in New York.
The Montague name didn’t own me—no one did.
NOX REACHED FOR the lapels of the robe and teased them apart.
“Hey, Mrs. Witt,” I reminded.
“Do you know how badly…” His husky tone was thick, sending tingles through me. “…I wanted to look under your robe the other night?”
I rested my hands on his arms, making no effort to stop him from doing exactly what he wanted. “No, how badly?”
He loosened the sash from around my waist. As the tie fell dangling in its loops, the robe gaped open, revealing just the sides of my breasts. The warm pad of his finger skirted across my skin, moving the satin aside. With my breasts fully exposed I looked up and quickly away. His pale gaze swirled with an intensity that reverberated to my bones. With nothing more than his eyes, my breathing hitched and nipples hardened.
I had absolutely no control or willpower when it came to this man.
Nox lifted my chin, bringing our eyes back to one another. His lips gently touched mine. I moaned as his fingers captured my pebbled nipples.
“Very, very badly.” His velvet words were a blowtorch, melting my insides. “I imagined what I’d find.”
I leaned into him. My head, suddenly heavy, fell backward as he continued to caress my breasts.
“I already knew you were stunning, ravishing even. I knew you had a smile that beckoned, holding me captive. In the short time before you left me alone in my suite, I saw a glimpse of the depth of your intelligence and humor. Your quick wit still keeps me on my toes.” He released my breasts and pulled me tight to his t-shirt-covered chest. “But I still didn’t know what was under that robe.”
I was lost in his words.
“Do you know what I found?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“I found an alluring body. Enticing breasts that I could caress for hours because I love how you respond. Your nipples fascinate me. I love how they not only harden but how the color darkens when you’re aroused.” His lips twitched as he stole a glance at my aroused nipples. “And your pussy… I found heaven inside of you. The way your body hugs me, the way it shudders as you come apart.” He kissed me again. “My imagination wasn’t even close to what I found.”
The world no longer registered. Nox and I were lost in the fog of him.
“Excuse me, Mr. Nox,” Mrs. Witt called from the hallway. I turned away and quickly fastened my robe.
Nox laughed. “Mrs. Witt, your timing is impeccable.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I thought you should know that you have an email. I believe you’ll want to see it before your… your plans for today.”
“Thank you, I’ll take a look.”
Her footsteps disappeared.
“Your housekeeper reads your emails?”
Nox walked to the other side of his desk and looked at his computer screen, but his head quickly snapped upward at my question. “Housekeeper? Mrs. Witt isn’t my housekeeper.” A smile snaked over his lips. “I can’t tell you any more. No information. I believe that was your rule, Miss Moore.”
I knew what he meant. I knew he was referring to our lack of last names. He was right. Who Mrs. Witt was, what her job entailed, or even its description, were none of my business. I reached for the cup of coffee that I’d set on the edge of his desk.
“Because of you, my coffee is cold.”
He was deep in thought with whatever he was reading. My words hung unanswered in the air, until he looked up. “I’m surprised. I thought it was getting rather warm in here.”
I blew him a kiss, purposely avoiding the other side of his desk. I didn’t want him to think I was looking at his email. Although, the fact that it more than likely contained his last name did run though my consciousness. “Nox, I should go back to my suite.”
“No, stay.”
His command wasn’t said with any urgency, but the lack of request didn’t go unnoticed.
“I’m interrupting you.”
“No,” his tone was brisker. “This asshole is interrupting me—us. This won’t take long. I’m going to call him and put this to rest, at least for now. His sense of urgency and mine are different.” Nox walked to where I was standing, and the menacing gleam that was heroin to my system flashed in his pale eyes. “Today my only urgency involves you. What would you like to do today?”
“I don’t want to be the cause of any problems. I’d hate to have you lose your job or account or whatever that is, over me.”
He caressed my cheek. “None of that is your concern. Don’t give it a second thought. Now about today: I know what I wanted about a minute ago, but we have all day. Would you like to stay here, go to the pool…” He added with a smirk, “Maybe we can see Max?” When I only pursed my lips, he went on, “Or the beach. We could rent a yacht. Have you eaten?”
I shook my head. “I still need to go to my suite and get some clothes. I don’t think this robe or my black dress make very appropriate beachwear.”
“Then the
beach it is.” He tilted his head. “You know, if we stayed here and swam in the private pool, what’s under that robe would be perfectly acceptable.”
“Mrs. Witt?”
“May take the rest of the day off. She has family nearby. I think I can tell you that without breaking our rule or having to kill you. That’s part of why she traveled here with me.”
“Oh, but then who will read your emails?”
He pulled me close, our bodies molding together. “If you take a shower here, I’ll have the shop downstairs send up a swimsuit in your size.”
My head continued to move back and forth though I now had to look up. The result was my hair swaying over the satin on my back. “That’s not necessary. I have plenty of—”
His finger touched my lips. “Size…” He eyed me up and down. “…4?”
“Yes, well before all the meals we’ve been eating. I’d go with a 6 now or maybe an 8.”
Nox smiled. “We had a good amount of exercise last night, but… if the 4 doesn’t fit, we’ll need to add more cardio to our schedule.”
I didn’t know if I could take more cardio. “Fine,” I said as I pulled away, but before I turned to leave, I asked, “Where’s my phone?”
“In the bedroom. It’s plugged in. I turned off the sound.”
Nodding, I went in search of my phone and a shower while Nox went back to his email.
“WHERE ARE YOU?”
“ARE YOU SPENDING THE NIGHT WITH MR. HANDSOME?”
“OMG YOU AREN’T ANSWERING. YOU ALWAYS ANSWER.”
“ARE YOU DEAD? TELL ME YOU’RE NOT DEAD.”
“IT’S AFTER TWO. YOU ARE SPENDING THE NIGHT!!!!”
“YOU DID IT! GO GIRL! OMG, ARE HIS BALLS BLUE?”
“HIS EQUIPMENT????”
“HE’S A LOOKER NOT A PRODUCER… AM I RIGHT?”
“IT’S OK IF IT WASN’T GOOD.”
“OR WAS IT SO GOOD YOU CAN’T RESPOND?”
“SEX COMA???”
“NO MATTER WHAT, I WANT DETAILS.”
“OK, NOW I’M WORRIED. IT’S MORNING.”
“SHOULD I CALL HOTEL SECURITY?”
“CALL ME! SEND A TEXT. YOU GET MAD WHEN I DON’T KEEP IN TOUCH.”