Wild Heir (Fated Royals 4)

With no palatable food left in the kitchen, I headed for the orangery and made off with an armful of small fruits, and made my way back upstairs. By now, the clouds had spread over the midday winter sun and made the house feel not just darker but also colder.

In the room next door to the one I’d woken in, I found a fireplace stocked with logs, as well as a box of matches. I built the fire back up in my room and snuggled onto the chaise longue, wrapping myself in a soft afghan. It had been so long since I had experienced such luxuries that I felt almost guilty here, in this beautiful place, so snug and warm.

But the longer I sat and considered the flames, the more the complexity of my situation weighed on me. I hadn’t stopped thinking about Vasile, not even for a moment.

I knew he was something special. He took a huge risk to protect me, without even knowing me. The smallest gestures he’d made for me—putting on my socks and shoes, leaving a lit fire, even locking me in my room last night—were all such effortless displays of the fact that he did care, no matter how rough and tumble he might seem. And yet, I had to consider his family.

God, his awful family.

Though he was made of something much better than his brother, that Greengallow name still hung over him like a dark cloud. He was tainted. Men like that never lived long and I knew it; if I were to attach myself to him, I probably wouldn’t last long either.

And worse still was the gambling. That vicious, insidious, life-upending vice. Thinking of the disaster Lord Barrington left in the kitchen, surely this was all over some debt, gambling or otherwise, and it all just felt so unsafe and unsteady.

I glanced at the clock on the mantel, but it was long-since stopped; it probably hadn’t been wound in months, making me wonder yet again if Vasile truly owned this property.

I knew this feeling all too well—of being left behind at home as the minutes ticked past. It had been just the same with my father; when he was with us, we were the center of his world. But once he was out on his own with a stack of chips in front of him, nothing else in the world mattered.

And that was not a life I could endure, no matter how I felt about Vasile.

My thoughts drifted to my father. My mother. Soon they would come to collect me and discover I was not at school.

I took a segment of orange and savored it on my tongue, as I watched the flames dance before me. I had to find a way to push my feelings aside. Somehow. Some way.Chapter 15VasileAs I crossed the courtyard to my parents’ quarter of the estate, the curtains on one of the second-floor windows parted, and my mother’s nurse wheeled her to the glass.

Though it had been just a day since I had seen her last, it made my fucking heart sink to see her looking even weaker and frailer. And yet, her smile was just as beautiful as ever.

She waved to me, beaming. I gave her an exaggerated bow, smiling back up at her in return as another of her attendants pushed open the window.

“Come and see me.” Her voice was soft and I had to strain to hear.

“I have some business with father. I will try to come to you after. You are looking as ravishing as ever. Younger every day, mother.”

“You were always the best liar.” She fluttered her hand in a dismissive wave. “You men, always doing your business. Go on. He’s so proud of you. So pleased to have you back here with us. I pray every night you will stay.”

I smiled, “You never know, mother. But, it’s freezing, you should not be breathing this cold air.”

“What does it matter? Fresh air, cold or not, is better than being stuck inside for the rest of my days.”

“Take care of her.” I eyed her nurse, who nodded, leaning down to whisper in my mother’s ear.

She shook her head and frowned, but blew me a kiss and I returned it.

“I will see you soon, mother.”

And then her nurse wheeled her away, the attendant closing the window and letting the lace curtain fall back in place.

The stables had been built in one corner of the courtyard, as a defense against attackers in the days when the Greengallow family were as likely to be at literal war with their enemies as they were to beat them at cards or threaten their business for protection money.

The grooms knew me well enough not to stand on ceremony.

I was a lot of things, but a spoiled son of a bitch most definitely wasn’t one of them. As I usually did, I waved over the old stable-master and took a few moments to ask him how things were with his family. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to let them know that they weren’t forgotten, and in turn I knew that led to my own mare being treated with the kind of care and kindness I’d treat her with myself.