“No, I want to hear it again. I need to know I’m not going insane.”
“I said, I got married.”
On second thought, Lando’s doing an excellent impression of a goldfish right now. Mouth opening and closing. Big eyes staring. And then he turns on Alex with a snarl, and I decide he’s actually not a very good goldfish.
“Did you know about this?”
“Of course I fucking didn’t,” Alex yells. “How am I supposed to have known about it? He got back yesterday.”
Lando’s fists ball in place on his desk, and he stares at me. Even though I called this family meeting, it’s oddly reminiscent of the times I used to get hauled into the headmaster’s study atschool for whatever transgression I’d committed that week. It got to the point where his secretary would share her Werther’s Originals with me. And I know for a fact she didn’t hand them out to just anyone.
No, Margaret Grantham and I had a special connection.
Lando’s study never used to have an ominous feel about it. When it belonged to my father, I’d love to come and sit while he worked. I’d have some coloring to do, or I’d be flicking through the pages of his polo magazines. But it’s belonged to Lando for longer than I have memories of it being my father’s. And my father definitely never looked at me the way Lando’s looking at me right now—like he’d happily murder me. What’s more, even my mother, perched on the edge, has virtually the same expression.
Alex is in the chair my father always said was his favorite. Clementine’s on the sofa near the fireplace, with Hamish and Dolly fighting over who can get strokes in first, and Hendricks stands by the window.
I wish I had the hindsight that perhaps this marriage wasn’t such a good idea, but I don’t.
I also bottled telling them that it was for real, because after Hendricks pointed out that my mother would be more hurt than angry, I couldn’t face the guilt. At least this way, I can legitimately save a little face.
I’m tempted to interrupt Lando’s scowling and ask if I’m dismissed when he turns on Hendricks. “No points for guessing you knew all about this.”
“He was my best man?—”
“Course he fucking was. Didn’t think to give anyone a heads-up? Didn't think to try to talk him out of something so asinine?”
“As I said to Arthur . . .” he begins, but Lando silences him with a finger in the air.
Such a dick move.
Without letting anyone speak, he hits speed dial on his desk phone, and the next voice I hear makes my balls shrivel up into my spine.
What a sniveling prick.
“Lando, how are you? I was?—”
“I’m with Miles.”
There’s an audible groan, and I hold in the smile. At least we’re not the only ones he cuts off mid-sentence.
“I did my best to talk him out of it.”
“It was your idea, Arthur,” I shoot out. If I’m going down, then this crusty excuse for a human is coming with me.
Arthur’s spluttering is the highlight of this conversation for me, seconded by the shock on Lando’s face—which I didn’t think could get any more pronounced—but does, in fact, become noticeably more shocked.
“Miles, you know it was a joke.”
“I didn’t realize you made jokes, Arthur.”
“Miles, shut up,” Lando snaps. “Arthur, what can you tell us about the prenup that's been signed?”
There’s a pause, and I know why. I also do feel very slightly guilty about it.
“Given the limited time I had, the prenup is very similar to the one that we had Caroline sign. Remuneration for each year of the marriage period. Nothing for infidelity on her part, same sums if Miles is unfaithful.”
The look Lando gives me, along with the caustic laugh from Alex, makes me want to flip them both off and inform them I already had every intention to keep my dick in my pants without the need of a legal document.
