Page 31 of The Un-Apparent Heir

“I know. I needed to say it—for us both.”

“I have an idea.”

“What?”

“We have a bit of our holidays left, right? Let’s get away.”

“Edwin, I don’t feel?—”

“It would be good for us, Natalie. Wherever you want to go. Where do you want to go? Where do you want to fly?”

She thought a moment. The wheels were turning.

“Fancy a complicated landing in Madeira?”

“I suppose I could,” Ed chuckled.

“Then, let’s book it,” Natalie said. “If you don’t mind me still being a bit grumpy from all these miserable hormones. Honestly, part of me is grateful I will never do it again, Ed. I’d do it again if I had to. For you, but… it was the most unimaginably terrifying and painful thing I have ever done.”

“It was terrifying for me, too. Nat, I was worried I might lose you. It is better, as you say. Maybe so much better? If anything ever happened to you, baby, what would I do? I need you. I want a baby, but I need you always. You are the reason I am hanging on right now. I know you need me.”

“I need you, but I want to see you happy again. You have been miserable since our first appointment, Edwin. I want to see the light in your eyes again—to thrive again. And while it hurts like hell—it always might—life is fucking complicated. I still wake up some days bitter about what I lost when George removed himself. When he left, everything changed. I still resent him sometimes. Then, I think about how happy he is now that he is himself. I think about you and how blessed I am to have you. Edwin, it gets better. It must.”

“I will struggle with Sanne and Paul’s kid.”

“Weboth will,” Natalie said. “But… it's going to be okay if we stick to our mission.”

8

THE UGLY TRUTH

Lucy carried a burden home to London. Winston knew better than to celebrate their newly confirmed bundle of joy. Last time, Lucy greeted two pink lines with joy. This time, she had too many plates spinning to want this. She was leaving her family to pick up the pieces. Her escape felt selfish, but Natalie needed her. Everyone needed her. Could she manage her job? How would she tell Natalie what was going on?

She and Winston returned to London to find that Ed and Natalie had gone on holiday—perhaps to escape the two-week wait until they figured out if they were pregnant. Finally willing to talk, Lucy climbed into bed.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, Winston,” she said.

“Lucy, obviously the timing is shit, but we’re going to have this baby.”

“Sure,” Lucy said. “I’m not excited about it, but I will surely adjust. It’s just… I wanted to have my work. I wanted to stabilise on that front. If Natalie is pregnant, I will take maternity leave overlapping with hers. Someone must cover for her while I want to be home with my new baby. What will we do? And how will we explain this to Malcolm? I wanted more time with him.”

“Lucy, it will be okay. You can make anything work. But… maybe it’s time to think about stepping back.”

Lucy hated those words. That ugly truth. The elephant in the room.

“Winston, I cannot just go without work.”

“What is the concern? Lucy, neither of us must have a job. The estate can be our work. That’s what it will be as Mum retires, anyhow. I am not saying you cannot help Nat. You could do what Mum does and be a lady-in-waiting, but you don’t need the money. And this is a lot for you to manage. You’re already struggling.”

“Thanks for making me feel like shit.”

“I didn’t mean to, Lulu,” Winston said, voice soft. “I have always supported you. I always will but I want to provide for you and give you the world. I cannot help but think that is the best thing for you. It’s not forever. We can have the kids and then… who knows? But you don’t need this stress.”

“Because what… you can save me? And what if you tire of me, Winston?”

“What do you mean?”

Lucy took a deep breath, tears welling. “Winston, I trusted someone once not to fuck me over. I was left in a precarious situation. When people break up, they become assholes. I would have to return to work—with no work history. You’d get the children, take them to Scotland, and I would never see my babies again. That’s my fear.”

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