Ademere House was enormous. A fairytale castle, with actual towers and turrets, but more imposing. It sat back from the long, circular drive, on miles of wooded land, like a miniature city untoitself. It was a lot of house for a family of five when five hundred could probably fit within the pale stone walls. For the first time, I had an understanding of whatbillionsmeant but couldn’t wrap my brain around so few people possessing so much.
“The baby boy returns from Heathrow with the Girlfriend,” said a deep, laughing voice as Morton set the luggage on the curb.
“Donotcall me that and do not call her that,” Orion scolded, but his grin was wide. “Harper, this is Odin. Oldest, but not wisest, brother.”
“No, that would be Tav, though nowadays, that’s debatable,” Odin said grimly, then put on a cheerful smile the same way Orion did when dismissing unpleasant thoughts. He stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Harper. Welcome to ourhumbleabode.”
“Thank you.” Odin had the same charismatic optimism as Orion, only in a bigger package. I liked him immediately.
“Of all his many ladies, you’re the first Orion has brought home,” Odin said to me. “You must be special.”
“Can we not?” Orion said, glaring.
“What?” Odin blinked innocently. “It’s a compliment.” He gestured up at the house. “What do you think, Harper? They don’t make them like this in the States, do they?”
Orion whacked him on the shoulder. “Quit putting her on the spot.”
“I just meant, it’s three hundred years old,” Odin said.
“I like it,” I said. “It’s verySaltburn.”
Odin burst out laughing. “Oh, I like her.”
“Me too,” Orion said, gazing at me.
I smirked. “You sure? You have somanyladies…”
“Yes, but I like you the most. Ow!” Orion laughed as I elbowed his side and we headed toward the huge manor. “Ah, there’s Tav.”
Orion nodded his head at the entrance. A slender young man—slightly shorter than his brothers—dressed in all black, came out from behind one of the entry’s immense pillars, shoulders hunched,hands stuffed in his pockets. He had the same loose curls as Orion, but they brushed his shoulders and fell over his eyes, which were a striking green against his darker skin. Everything about Octavian was quiet and subdued, where his brothers were boisterous and lively. He greeted me with a soft-spoken voice, and then we all stepped inside.
Immediately, the energy shifted. Odin’s and Orion’s brilliant smiles vanished, and they stood straighter. Stiffly. It was warmer in the grand entry but not by much, and the silence was like a living thing that ate our words and made our steps echo.
Orion read my face, “Intimidating, I know, but you get used it.”
I smiled faintly.Do you?
I’d never felt so out of my element in my life. As if I’d been dropped into a king’s castle without being trained in the etiquette.
A liveried butler approached and took my bag up one of two stairways that led to different wings of the house, while another indicated we all should follow him to where Mr. and Mrs. Mercer waited.
As we moved through the manor, I stared up and around at the high ceilings and enormous rooms decorated for the season with garlands, bouquets of red and white flowers, and a Christmas tree in almost every room. But beneath the festive decor were classic portraits, modern abstracts, and West African bronzes and sculpture, all complimenting each other in expert arrangements.
“Our mother’s handiwork,” Odin said, noticing my awed expression. “She’s a gallerist in London.”
“It’s incredible,” I said. “She’s so talented.”
“Isn’t she?” he said. “It’s all so varied; you expect nothing to work, but it all works.”
We passed through a huge room with a sleek black grand piano, and I gave Orion’s hand a squeeze. “This must be where you spent a lot of time.”
He wore a smile I couldn’t read, and my stomach tightened. I tried to imagine Orion in this house as a little boy and reconcile him with the man beside me—someone who made jokes, laughed easily,and filled spaces without trying. I pictured him at the piano in that mausoleum of a room, his music swallowed by high ceilings and closed doors, and failed. But he’d struggled in silence for years, and somehow emerged with the best parts of himself still intact.
I was somehow prouder of him and loved him more, even though I didn’t think that was possible.
We entered a more modern-looking sitting room where Mr. and Mrs. Mercer were waiting.
“Mum, Father, this is Harper,” Orion said, his accent sharper and more refined than I’d ever heard him use.
