Page 63 of Proof

By the time we sat down in front of a small table, it had been set up with an assortment of tea, coffee, and small pastries. I automatically began pouring my grandmother some tea and preparing it the way she liked it. It was only as I moved the tea closer to her that I remembered that maids were tasked with preparing tea. There was always one at the ready to do things at my grandmother’s bidding. Ashbys didn’t serve themselves. Other people did it for them.

A quick glance around proved that we were alone.

“A warm towel for your hands, mum?” Renly said, once again appearing out of nowhere. He had a silver tray in his hands. There were two steaming washcloths on it.

“Oh yes, of course, how silly of me,” Mother Ashby remarked as Renly put the towelette in front of her. She looked at it with confusion.

“And for you, sir?” Renly asked, his tone insistent. He shifted his eyes to my grandmother and back to me. I nodded. Renly immediately used his silver tongs to place the towel on a plate in front of me. My grandmother still hadn’t reached for hers.

“I missed these,” I said, pulling my grandmother’s focus to me. I began washing my hands with the washcloth. “While I was in the army,” I added.

Mother Ashby’s eyes cleared and then she was reaching for her cloth so she could wipe away the dirt on her hands. Renly stepped forward as soon as we were done so he could take the washcloths and then he disappeared again. He never did something as menial as offering guests warm towels.

My grandmother took a sip of her tea and then motioned to me. “Drink, eat,” she insisted. “The food must have been terrible over there.”

Over there.

Notinthere.

Overthere.

Dear God, she reallydidbelieve I’d been serving overseas all this time. How the hell was that even possible?

“So, um, who told you I was home?” I asked as I took a sip of my coffee.

“Renly did, of course. Just now, my silly little rose,” my grandmother said. She reached for one of the fancy little sandwiches on the serving tray. There were tongs, but she used her fingers to take it. My grandmother had always been a force to be reckoned with when it came to manners. Especially table manners. All of that had apparently fallen by the wayside.

“Your father must have wanted to surprise me,” my grandmother continued as she ate the sandwich. Another strict rule being broken. Never speak when one’s mouth is full.

The idea that my father would have wanted to surprise his own mother about her grandson’s reappearance was absolute bullshit. I kept my mouth shut, though, because it had finally dawned on me that my grandmother wasn’t the woman she’d been before I’d been arrested. Her mental state hinted at some kind of memory loss or dementia. It would have been easy for my father and all the other Ashbys to take advantage of her.

My greedy aunts, uncles, and cousins had been waiting for my grandmother to die so they’d all get their share of her fortune, but my father had the most to gain. As her closest next of kin, he’d get everything. All of the companies, all of the numerous properties all over the world, the countless number of cars, yachts, and planes and, of course, the money—they’d be his for the taking.

Mother Ashby wouldn’t even need to be dead for him to do it. All he’d have to do was have her declared incompetent and that would be it. There’d be no one standing in his way.

Except me.

Iwould be in his way.

Just like I would’ve been in his way two years earlier.

The idea thatI’dbeen the target of the assassin’s bullet and not JJ had me wanting to throw up right there on my grandmother’s beautiful tablecloth. I jumped up so fast that I tipped my chair over, startling my grandmother so badly that she knocked over the cup of tea in front of her. Thankfully, none of it spilled on her, and a maid that hadn’t been present before appeared out of nowhere to clean up the mess.

“I’m sorry,” I blundered. “I, um, just need some air. Would you excuse me, Mother Ashby?”

“Of course,” my grandmother responded. As I turned on my heel and began striding back in the direction we’d come from, I heard her call out, “Should I call for a doctor, my little rose?”

“No, I’m fine,” I returned over my shoulder. “Just not used to being indoors.”

My stomach had settled by the time I reached the doorway leading to the gardens. Renly was waiting for me.

Good.

I needed to know what the hell was going on and Renly was going to be the one to tell me, whether he wanted to or not.

CHAPTER 20

Jj

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