Page 18 of Wedlock
The nanny bustles off with an armload. I know she’ll return in half an hour or so for more. The North Wing, where I’m apparently going to be housed, is some distance away from here. It’s not lost on me that it’s the wing that was once forbidden to me because that’s where he housed his mistresses, and Sophie.
I hope to hell he hasn’t got any women there now, although even as I think this I wonder if I might be able to use one to help me escape.
“Why you’re being moved is Falcon’s decision,” Eleanor says dryly. “I imagine he doesn’t want you this close to his chambers now that he’s home, and I’ll do anything to facilitate his comfort. If he’s happier with you further away, he might stay longer. As to why I’m packing your clothes, I would have thought that was obvious. No one can be privy to you living here at this time, or your state of mind. Falcon doesn’t trust his staff, and I’m frankly sick of him massacring the maids every time he feels like he’s been betrayed.”
“Oh.”
I frown as I consider how many times the staff had turned over since I’d first come to the castle. There were at least three times that I’d visited the kitchens to find completely new faces.
“He killed all the staff?”
“Yes, I just told you that,” she huffs, her back to me as she continues folding clothes.
‘Figures. My husband does not take betrayal lightly.’
I shiver as someone walks over my grave and, rising, baby on my shoulder, walk back to the bed.
“I wouldn’t bother with those gowns,” I mutter as she continues packing. “The only things I really wear now are maternity bras, shirts and comfortable sweatpants.”
I point to my suitcase lying in the corner. It was the one thing Jag had allowed me to bring in his rush to return me to the castle. It had been searched when I’d arrived and deemed OK for me to keep, much to my surprise. I’d pretty much lived out of it ever since, never opening the wardrobe. It was my only opportunity to feel like an actual person, and a reminder of mywonderful time being free, living with Yin in the mountains, wandering the trails, no make-up, no fear — other than the background knowledge that Viper was out there somewhere, waiting.
“Nevertheless,” Eleanor sniffs, unaware of my reminiscing, “at some stage you may have some self-respect again and decide to dress properly.”
“Unlikely,” I snort. “I didn’t pick any of those clothes; Caroline did. And anyway, what’s the point? I’m on death row and get no visitors.”
“You might consider doing it for yourself,” she straightens up, turning to give me a stern look, “and for your son. You set the tone for how his personality will form, and his view of human women. Never forget that.”
I give my boy a little squeeze and look down into his eyes. He stares at me as I kiss his forehead.
“Jag will be the one to form his perception of human women if Falcon follows through on his plan to hand my boy over once I’m gone,” I murmur.
“And what a perception that will be,” Eleanor snaps.
I can’t help but silently agree as I walk to stand and stare out the window, considering how to frame my new request.
I’d planned to ask Eleanor something today, but with the news that I was moving to the North Wing and all the ensuing hustle and bustle, I hadn’t had the chance. But I guess there’s no time like the present. I’ve never truly been sneaky enough to hide when I’m scheming; Mom always said I was like an open book. She always knew when my brother and I were up to something because my face gave us away. But I’m trying hard to learn how to play the games I need to play in order to survive in thisvampire world. And I know lying convincingly has to become second nature if I’m to succeed.
I’d like to have taken a little more time to think through my plan, half-assed as it is, but given Eleanor’s news that my family had been told I was miserable, and the entire world will think I’ve suicided in a few years, or less, I need to fast-forward my escape plan.
‘If Jag talked to Adam, he knows everything. He’s learnt the truth, that my love for him was a lie. Why would he even bother trying to rescue me? I thought he’d tell Falcon, if for no other reason than to out Viper, but that doesn’t seem to have happened. Eleanor said Jag’s under some kind of fatwa and that if he comes anywhere near Falcon he’ll be killed. And why wouldn’t Falcon follow through on that? After all, even if he finds out I’m under a thrall, his best friend wasn’t. Jag has no excuse for his actions other than to reveal that I seduced him. Even then, is that reason enough to sleep with your best friend’s wife? No. Falcon WILL kill him. Shit. Shit. Shit.’
My ruminations are interrupted when Eleanor announces she’s finally finished packing, and I can move.
I’m all out of rehearsal time. I just hope I can frame my request in such a way that it doesn’t sound suspicious. Although it’s as suspicious as hell.
“How’s my little Tiger?” she croons as she walks to me, taking the baby from my arms.
I frown as I watch her cuddling him.
Although she refers to my son by the name she and Falcon chose whenever she’s with him, I can’t. I don’t want to, and I won’t. I know his real name should be Talon. But I’ve lost that argument for the time being, and right now something else is at the forefront of my mind, even though her crooning rankles.
“Eleanor, I’d like to walk with the baby in the gardens at night.”
She shakes her head.
“Out of the question.”
“Why? Do you really think I’d have any chance of escape given all the security you have?”
