Page 62 of Unravelling: Aria & Crispin
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gestured for her to sit again, the motion smooth, practised like a host returning to a script.
Marcus folded his hands and tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "I imagine you've had a rough year. Working and managing. Still...you carry yourself well."
She said nothing, unsure if it was meant to be a compliment.
"Where are you staying, if you don't mind me asking?"
"In Clapham," she replied, cautious.
"With your sister?"
Aria shook her head.
"You're not working at the café anymore?" he asked, his tone pleasant but probing.
"No."
"I thought so." He nodded slightly, satisfied with the puzzle pieces fitting into place. "And how are you coping?"
She just looked at him.
"Come," he said. "Let me show you one last room."
He led her back through the hallway and into the front drawing room. He walked towards the mantle, his back to her, and spoke with an odd gentleness. "You looked very lovely that night. I remember thinking that."
Aria stiffened. "What night?"
He turned, his smile faint. "That awful dinner party when the engagement was announced. You wore a black dress, I think. And Ophelia's opal."
Her stomach twisted. "You were there."
"I was," he said. "Though I wasn't introduced, and I doubt you even saw me. I stood by the side window when Crispin's mother made the toast." His voice dropped to something almost regretful. "It was a cruel way to find out. I thought so then, too."
Aria's heart thudded once, hard. "You're related."
It was all very clear now, in the shape of his mouth, the colour of his eyes. The resemblance was striking.
He dipped his head. "Marcus Falder. My half-brother is Crispin's father. I daresay Crispin has done more than anyone ever expected of him. Worked his way up the hard way with no shortcuts."
There was a pause as Marcus seemed to study her.
"He's not like the others, Aria-I won't deny that. But he's stuck between a rock and a hard place, as they say. You must know how fragile things are right now."
Aria's throat was dry. "I don't understand. What does any of this have to do with me?"
"I think you do," Marcus said softly. "He won't let go of you. And in doing so, he's about to lose everything."
He reached into the drawer of the cabinet beside him and pulled out a white envelope.
"This job is not charity; it's the start of a new path for you. You are resilient. You deserve a fresh slate. All I ask is that you step aside before things become irreversible."
She stared at the envelope like it might burn through the table. "And if I don't?"
Marcus exhaled as if regretful on her behalf, voice still composed. "Then the offer is void. If you tell Crispin, it's void. And if you wait too long...he'll lose his inheritance, his options. And when that happens, Aria...do you really think he'll choose you?"
Silence.
"You'll get everything in writing. No tricks. It's just that...his life is going in a different direction, and so should yours."
