Page 36 of Unwanted Vows

“He’s nothing,” the old man says. But a child could see the falsehood. There had to be some reason why he’d tried to get Jason Wintergreen married to Rylie. “He’s nothing at all, just a cousin who can’t seem to keep his shit together.”

“Including kidnapping a direct descendent to use as leverage, and as a possible catspaw,” Andrew says, his face starting to flush with anger. “Here’s a news bulletin, Grandfather Aims. Neither he nor you will use any of the Lane children, nor any other children because I will stop you. If you mean what you say, and you want someone competent to head your organization, start your people gathering information.”

“It’s not that easy,” Mr. Aims whines.

Andrew clenches his teeth, Austin and Charles both glower at the old man. The very air crackles with tension.

Then Pops Quinn spoke up. “It seems to me,” he says, “that if you really want to clean up your mess before you answer that roll call up yonder, you’d better get busy. You’ve been given your deadline.”

“I can’t,” Mr. Aims says in despair. “It’s too big. Too many Jason Wintergreens. Too many wronged shopkeepers. I used to know where I was going, but I don’t anymore.”

“I knew I should have called Leland and Catriona in on this,” Andrew says. “I didn’t because Leland has more cause to resent you than anyone in the world for what you did to his mother, and to him.”

“Worse than what you did to Maddy and Paul?” Kate asks.

“I didn’t know about Paul, and Madeline…well, that’s something I want to work out with her. But he knew about Amari, my father’s first wife, and about Leland. Insisting that Albert Lane divorce her and marry Deborah Aims was deliberate.”

“Why are you considering calling them in on it now?” Charles inquires, asking the very question I want answered.

“Because,” Andrew says, “I want to consult with Tulok. Grandfather says this mess is bigger than we think, bigger than he can control. I have a feeling it crosses borders and runs under multiple political doors. Am I wrong, Grandfather?”

Mr. Aims looks sad and tired. “No. You are not wrong. And I’m sorry for it, because I never meant to hurt my country. I meant to support it in the best way I could.”

For the first time, I see him as something more than a threat to my family. I see a tired old man who has made enormously wrong choices, and who realizes that he is not going to have time to fix them. I almost feel sympathy for him.

“Oh, hell,” Austin says, with feeling. “So you want to call in someone with some big guns, someone else who has Connections.”

Mr. Aims sits back on the couch, like someone relieved to find understanding.

“Exactly,” Andrew says. “Tulok is the canniest politician I know. He’s probably forgotten more International dodges than most heads of state. More than that he has the archives of Ildogis, a tiny country in a big and hungry world. Arranged marriages are probably the smallest weapon in his arsenal.”

“Now you understand,” Mr. Aims said. Suddenly he is just a tired old man slumped on a shabby couch. “I wanted to connect him to our New York families, and Lane owed me for favors done in the past. I wanted my daughter to be secure. Amari was in the way, and Lane already had rights in the gold and diamond mines.”

He wheezed a bit, as he got that last out. Andrew looked murderous. Charles laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

Mr. Aims spread his hand over his chest, and wheezed again.

“We should get him into his bed at the hospice,” the nurse says, bending over the old man solicitously. And I saw something else I’d not expected to see. His attendants, the ones closest to him, held him in high regard, perhaps even affection.

“Of course,” Charles says smoothly. “Austin?”

“On it,” Austin says, crisply.

The old man shuffles out the door with his entourage. Kate gathers up the other guests, including the children who were visiting with Paul.

Mimi is the last to go. She stops at the doorway, turns and says, “Remember, dear, I’m always ready to listen, to offer a shoulder, and to prod this crazy bunch into action. All you need to do is ask.”

“I’ll remember,” I say.

The door closes behind her. I sink down onto a footstool, resting my face in my hands. What kind of world have I fallen into?

ALONE AT LAST

ANDREW

I gaze at Madeline. She is bent over, her head resting on her knees. This whole thing must seem like the worst sort of nightmare to her.

I wasn’t exactly enjoying it, myself. Sure, I had survived helping my older brother, Leland, get his family, friends, and employees airlifted out of Mountain Hold. I’d engineered making it look as if the village elders had blown themselves up so they could testify that he was not a murderer. On the contrary, he and his people had been victims of the worst sort of persecution.

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