“Who did you hire?” I asked frostily.
“Stop being dramatic, Devvie.” She tried laughing it off, picking up the champagne glass from the tray next to her, twisting it about. “It wasn’t like that.”
“How was it, then?”
“I, well … I suppose I did hire a man. His name is Rick. He said he collects debts and such. He has a few soldiers around Boston running errands for him. I just wanted him to scare her off, not harm her, god forbid. She is still carrying my grandchild, you know. I care about those things!”
She cared about her first grandchild like I cared about preserving the life and dignity of treehopper bugs in Turkmenistan.
“Get him on the phone right now. I want to talk to him.”
“He won’t talk to me.” She threw her hands in the air, walking over to the settee she’d occupied minutes ago. Taking out a thin cigarette from her purse, she lit up. “He stopped taking my calls. I’ve tried everything. Last time we spoke, he said someone got involved in the case. Some common Irish name. Said he doesn’t need to deal with this guy. I haven’t heard from him since.”
Sam Brennan.
“Is he still on the case?” I asked.
“No.”
“Give me his details, just in case.”
I was going to give them to Sam and ensure Rick knew the next time he got close to Emmabelle, he was going to leave the situation in a body bag.
Mum rolled her eyes, sticking her cigarette into her mouth and scribbling something on a side table by the settee. She tore the paper from a notepad and handed it over to me.
“There. Happy now?”
“No. So he followed her?”
“Sent other people to do it a handful of times. One of them she confronted in quite an uncouth manner to be honest.”
“And sent her letters?”
Mummy frowned, taking another drag of her cigarette, folding her arms over her chest. “No. I didn’t ask him for that, and highly doubt he took such a liberty.”
That meant there was someone else after Sweven, just like I suspected.
A second someone.
Frank.
I needed to wrap this up and get back home.
“When did Rick start going after her?”
I wanted to know when it all began. Mum gave me a guilty look.
“Well …”
“Well?”
“Before she got pregnant,” Mum admitted, her shoulders sagging as she puffed on her fag. “After your father passed away, I used Rick to try and see if there were any obstacles that might prevent you from marrying Louisa. He said you were all over this Penrose woman. So we tried to push her out of the picture.”
“Real classy.”
“Are we going to talk about what’s going to happen to me and your sister now that you’ve officially decided to fail us?” She huffed. “Because this thing with Emmabelle wasn’t unprovoked. You must see my point of view. You’re about to flush the family’s fortune down the drain to make a point about your father.”
“No, I’m about to flush the family’s fortune down the drain because it comes attached with a stipulation no one should agree to. And also because I’m in love with someone else and refuse to sacrifice my own happiness so you and Cece can drive fancy cars and take monthly vacations in The Maldives.”
“Devon, be reasonable!” She snuffed the cigarette out, smoke still escaping her lips as she rushed toward me. She seemed to be trying tough love and groveling simultaneously, which made for quite the odd conversation. “You’re burning down a legacy! All you’ll be left with is the title.”
“I don’t care much for the title either,” I drawled.
“How dare you!” She slammed her fists against my chest. “You’re irrational and vindictive.”
“I’ve tried being reasonable. But there is no reasoning with you people. You’re on your own, Ursula. If you want money, go earn it, or better yet, find a sorry sod who is willing to marry you. And on that note, here’s a fair warning: if you try to harm the mother of my child ever again, I’m going to end you. I mean that literally. I will end your life as you know it. Spread this message to Cece and Drew too. Oh, and my love, of course.” Manners were manners, after all.
“You can’t do this to us.” She fell to her knees, hugging my ankles. The waterworks started. I stared down at the back of her head with a mixture of annoyance and disgust. “Please, Devon. Please. Marry then divorce Louisa. Just for a bit … I … I … I won’t be able to survive! I simply won’t.”
I shook her touch off of me, stepping away from her embrace.
“If you don’t, it’s none of my business.”
“You know …” She looked up, her eyes shining with madness, anger, and desperation. They were so big, so manic I thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. “I knew. That time when he locked you in the dumbwaiter and cut the electricity off so the pumps wouldn’t work … we were both in on that.”