Page 136 of Unwritten Rules

A single tear rolls down his cheek as Tatiana enters the room.

She tuts loudly when she sees Wetherby. “I knew going to my niece’s wedding yesterday was a bad idea. You’ve clearly not stayed on top of your meds as you promised.” Crossing the space, she nods at Zara and me. “Give me two minutes to make him comfortable. I’ll let you know when you can come back in.”

Wetherby reaches out as if to plead with me to stay, but Tatiana has already shooed us both out the door and closed it firmly in my face.

“It’s Nathan.”

Rolling my eyes, I look over my shoulder. “What’s Nathan?”

She smirks, and I wonder how I ever found her to be pretty when her insides are clearly rotten to the core.

“Wetherby’s given name. It’s Nathan. Strange coincidence, wouldn’t you think?”

I twist fully around to face her as she continues. “He goes by Wetherby because it was his mother’s name. Maria Wetherby.”

She stops as though to ensure that she’s caught my full attention.

“She was a housemaid here, you know, until Ana, your darling mother, was cherry-picked to be Xavier’s future bride. When Ana was thirteen, she moved into the Lake House from her parents’ home in London. The Lake House had been built specifically for that purpose, and Maria, set to be Ana’s live-in caretaker, took young Nathan with her. It was infinitely safer for him there, you know.” She stage-whispers dramatically, “Xavier admitted he’d more than once tried to do away with his younger half-brother—”

“Wetherby and my father were not siblings, Zara. This I know. You’ve clearly lost the fucking plot, and I’m not having you slander a sick man when he can’t defend himself.”

She grits her teeth and hisses, “It’s about time someone was fully honest with you, and let me tell you this – it’s a fucking pleasure to be the one that bursts your self-entitled little bubble.”

Her words are filled with such hatred, such anger, that I’m speechless for a long moment, giving her the chance to go on.

“Young Nathan Wetherby is the product of your grandfather, Nelson Hawthorne’s, infatuation with Maria Wetherby.”

I recoil. “What?”

“So, obviously, Ana and Nathan grew up together in that Lake House. According to her diary, they had quite the friendship. With benefits!”

She giggles as though she’s just made a joke, and fuck if it doesn’t set my teeth on edge.

“When it came time for Ana to assume her mantle as Lady Hawthorne, she moved to the main house. Nelson bequeathed the house to Maria, seeing as it was a new property and in no way tied to the Hawthorne name. All was fine. Ana married Xavier and severed contact with her old friend at Xavier’s insistence. Nathan joined the army, going on tour for nearly five years before coming back here to a big surprise.”

Tatiana interrupts then, poking her head around the door. “I’ve made him comfortable. You can see him now, but consciousness might not return.”

I tilt my head, trying to make sense of what she’s saying, but there’s just so much new information bouncing around my frazzled brain that I’m not sure I understand.

Clearly, taking pity on me, Tatiana continues. “Lord Hawthorne, he didn’t want to worry you, sir. He was quite adamant that he fulfilled his duties…to the end…”

The end?

“Please alert me when he awakens, sir. I’d like to ensure he’s as comfortable as possible.”

I push past her to find the bedroom curtains drawn, the room only lit by the small bedside lamp. Wetherby is hooked up to the previously unused IV line on the far side of his bed. His face is lax, skin grey and lifeless. His body, too, and I’m hit with the horror that he’s not been better following his illness as he’d claimed.

He’s been dying. He is dying. Here and now, when I need him the most.

Zara files in behind me, but I put my hand up.

“No, Zara. I’ve heard enough for today. You can’t be here now.”

I sink into the chair beside his bed, eyes fixed firmly on his face. Eyes that fill with tears as I contemplate my second major loss of this day.

“Of course, Nate. I’d so hate to intrude as you bid farewell to Daddy Dearest.”

CHAPTER 38