Page 78 of The Beast

James sinks back down to the couch, firing a glare my way. I stand and walk to my mother, sticking an elbow out. She takes it and I walk her out, eyeing Ella as I go.

In the few seconds I can still see her, Ella straightens her dress and tries but fails not to look miserable. Holding my breath until I pass out of the room, I wince at my mother’s fingernails digging into my arm.

“Stop overreacting,” I say.

She glares at me, pulling me to a stop.

“The fact that you have that girl around Isla is unacceptable. I demand that you call the service and have a proper au pair sent out here. Or better yet, you let me choose a boarding school for my granddaughter. Isla already acts uncivilized. She doesn’t need any more heedless influences around her, not considering that she is already taking after her mother.”

I stiffen. It is one thing for my mother to criticize me or my parenting. Another entirely for her to talk about Isla when she’s probably not going to hear it.

But to compare Isla to her mother, who cares more for drugs and partying than being a good mom or wife? It’s utterly unfair.

I shake off my mother’s grip. She must see the fury in my eyes, because she rushes to speak.

“Don’t get angry, Keiran. Remember, you owe everything you have to your father and I. We didn’t have to give you the business when you failed at being a political candidate. We did it out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“You did it because Granddad Harrison wanted you to. He knew that Dad didn’t have the guts to run a news conglomerate. And by the way, it’s been my hard work and my blood, sweat, and tears that have added nearly five hundred thousand consumers to our paying subscribers. You handed me a success; I turned it into a cash cow.”

My mother folds her arms across her chest and sniffs. “You have been very distant lately. If you want to continue to be a part of this family, you need to conform to my expectations. Don’t think I won’t call Granddad Harrison and tell him that you have lost your way. He’s still my father. And I still have him wrapped around my little finger.”

I stare at her, trying to figure out if she means what she says. But before I figure anything out, Henri walks down the hall. Mum grabs him by the arm, points him toward the stairwell, and starts talking about how we live in such a damaged, ruined castle.

They head down the hallway. I watch them for a second, then turn and walk back into the parlor, steadying myself for yet more of my toxic family.

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

At the end of dinner, I put my fork and knife on my plate and fold my napkin next to it. The conversation swirls around me, mostly James and Beau talking in excited tones about the political landscape here in the UK. I try to lean backward to make eye contact with Keir. But he is absorbed in the conversation, adding a comment every now and then.

I clear my throat and look to Maura. But she has averted her gaze, looking determinedly down at her half empty plate with an unblinking gaze. Her lips twitch and she wrinkles her nose like she just smelled something decaying.

Yeah, no. If I want conversation, I am definitely not going to get it out of her. That leaves Natasha, who is sitting across from me and pushing peas around her plate with her fork.

I sit up a little straighter and clear my throat. She looks up at me, puzzled.

“So how is work?” I ask.

Natasha looks like I’m speaking in tongues.

“I’m sorry?”

I try again. “How are things at work? I don’t think I’ve ever found out exactly what it is that you do. All I know is that you assist in something, some kind of way.”

Her lips thin. “I always endeavor to make Lord Grayrose’s life easier in whatever manner possible.”

I frown. Why is she talking so formally all of a sudden?

But two seconds later, she licks her lips and edges her gaze over to peek at Keir’s mother. And it all clicks.

She’s performing the role of the prim, proper, dutiful assistant for Maura. I’m not sure why, exactly, but she clearly wants Maura to see that Natasha colors inside the lines and is exceedingly helpful.

“And how have things been at work?” I prompt, asking my question again.

She clears her throat and sneaks a peek at James. Could she be holding out hope that, in time, she can work for the family? It’s the only thing that makes any sort of sense.

“Fine.” Natasha gives me a cool smile. “Lord Grayrose has tripled our sales volume each and every year that he has been in charge of NewsCorp. And I’m glad to say that I’ve been a key part in his success.”

I tilt my head. She sounds like she’s claiming part of Keir’s winning strategy involved her. But that can’t be true, can it?

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