Chapter Twenty-One
“Can you come with me just a minute?” Constance asked Mary, who was only too eager to get as far away from Jarrod as possible at that point.
“Excuse me,” she said to Jarrod, her tone short. She avoided his gaze.
“Sure. Everything okay?” he asked, looking puzzled.
She ignored him and followed Constance to the end of the banquet hall and out the door into the hallway that led to the kitchen.
A young man wearing coveralls had removed a sconce from the wall and was fiddling with it as they walked by. Constance glanced around, then pulled Mary by the arm over to where he was working.
“This is Briony’s husband, Frank,” Constance said, glancing around again to make sure nobody was listening. “He’s an electrician. I told the maintenance department the lamp was broken so they’d send him over here today.”
He was a thin man with a mop of curly hair, and his eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He looked pale and exhausted.
“I’m so sorry about what happened,” Mary said to him. “Has anyone been able to talk to her?”
He shook his head. “No, that’s the thing. They’re keeping her so doped up that she can’t even speak. I know they’re lying about what happened at the hospital. My wife did not try to hurt our son, and if she attacked that nurse, there was a reason.” His eyes burned with hurt and anger. “I just need to know – are you willing to help us?” He stared at her intently.
“Of course,” Mary said. “What did you have in mind?”
“You’ll know when it’s time,” he said, and he turned and hurried away.
She took a deep breath, and she and Constance headed back to the banquet hall, for a wedding that was never going to happen.
* * * * *
“Are you sure you’re feeling all right?” Jarrod asked Mary, concerned. She must have eaten something bad at breakfast. She was white as a ghost and acted like she didn’t want to be anywhere near him.
“I’m fine. I’m just going to go to my suite right now.”
Her room. Not their room. For days now, she’d been in their room, making it into her second home. He’d sent for her stuff from her apartment and had it brought it to the Alpha compound, and she’d moved it into his rooms. Now she didn’t want to be with him. That stung.
Was it because she was feeling sick?
She hurried away from him, rushing down the hallway towards her suite.
“Do you need a doctor?” he called out after her.
“I don’t need a damned thing from you!” she yelled, and slammed her door.
Now where the hell had that come from? She’d needed plenty of things from him just a few short hours ago – like hungry kisses and more orgasms.
He stalked down the hallway and grabbed the doorknob. She’d locked it. Now he was starting to get angry.
“What is going on with you?” he yelled. “If you’re mad at me, tell me why!”
“As if I’d get an honest answer!” she yelled back.
He had no answer for that. He hadn’t lied to her; somebody must have told her something that hurt her, and he’d bet anything that Earvin was behind it.
Fortunately, Angela liked him, and he knew that she wanted him and Mary to be together. He’d track her down and find out what the problem was.
Or…not.
He didn’t see her or Regina wandering around, and they weren’t in their rooms, so he called Craig, who met up with him in the library. His father had built that room, stocked it with thousands of leatherbound books tucked into flor to ceiling bookshelves.
“I need you to do me a favor,” he said to Craig. “I want you to ask Angela something. What?” he added, at the look on Craig’s face.
