Page 6 of The Spare

I was never going to be enough, and now they’ll all know.

He saw through me.

They’ll all see through me now.

CHAPTER 3

Benedict

It’s batshit crazy how quickly all the things we know to be true can change.

Take my family, for example: Xav as the heir to the Dukedom of Oxford—a title that’s very bloody imminent given Pa’s current state—and me as the spare. The spare son, that is. The spare heir. You’d better believe we’ve leaned the hell into those clichés, the two of us, over the years.

And then: boom. All change, please. In a move more badass than I would ever have believed him capable of, Xav fell in love (with a former sex worker, no less), reneged on his lifelong, parentally arranged engagement to poor, smoking-hot Selena—a.k.a. Slinky—Wentworth five days before his wedding, and got basically disinherited by Pa in his most badass move, a move that was ridiculously harsh and honestly quite melodramatic and put two whole families in total and utter uproar.

If that wasn’t enough, yours truly decided what the hell last night, told Ma and Pa he’d marry Selena, agreed to assume the position of heir to the title—and the billions it comes with—and delivered the good news to my broken brother at the arse-crack of dawn this morning.

Whew.

It’s a flawless plan. Flawless. If you discount two minor issues:

One: I am what polite society would consider a raging manwhore who does not like to dip his nib in the same inkpot twice, if you catch my drift.

And two: Slinks hasn’t actually said yes to my borderline insane plan yet.

Xav pointed out earlier that she would not take kindly to my stepping in at the last minute. That it would double her humiliation in the eyes of the press: cast aside by one brother only to be saved by the other. To that, I answered that I had an absolute belter of a plan, and it’s the truth.

I have to convince Slinky to marry me. I really do. I need to cement my future position as the head of the de Vere family so I can carry out my first and most important act once Pa pops his clogs: bringing Xav back into the fold, along with his various stragglers—his girlfriend Ivy, her younger twin sisters, and her poor stepmother, whose dementia care he’s—we’ve—been paying for.

Told you he had stragglers.

But if this is the woman Xav wants to hitch his wagon to, and she is, then it’s my promise to him that we’ll look after her and her family. She’ll be a de Vere soon enough, after all.

I just need to persuade the lovely Selena to get on board. Need to persuade her that I can not only help her save face but spin the narrative of the century. More importantly, I need to persuade her we can be happy together.

It’ll be the performance of a lifetime, that’s for sure, because I wouldn’t wish myself as a husband on my worst enemy.

I turn up at Millbrook at what could be considered an ungodly hour, especially over Christmas. I didn’t call ahead—didn’t want to give her a chance to tell me not to come. I imagine the de Veres aren’t her favourite family right now.

It’s the housekeeper rather than Selena’s parents who answers the door, thank fuck, and shows me through to the study, where a fire is lit. I pace about a little as I wait for both my esteemed host and the coffee the housekeeper has promised me. The strong cup of tea I had with my brother at—what, five a.m.?—is a distant memory. I wanted to get here early, because Xav tells me the Wentworths will be in full-on Wedding Cancellation Mode this morning. They couldn’t do much yesterday, it being Boxing Day.

Selena, somehow, looks immaculate. Does nothing faze this woman? She’s just in jeans and a cashmere sweater, but they both hug her fan-fucking-tastic figure in a truly excellent way. Her hair and makeup are flawless. I don’t know where she gets the energy to keep these standards up, especially given the twenty-four hours she’s had, but they fucking work.

‘Hi, Slinky.’ I shoot her a smile that’s probably more sheepish than anything else.

She rolls her eyes at me. ‘Look at that. It’s Groundhog Day. Your brother dumped me right in this spot yesterday.’ Her voice is flat.

‘Well, I’m not here to dump you, clearly.’ I open my arms wide. ‘Get in here. Come on. You know you want to.’

Another eye roll, but she traipses dully across the room and allows me to fold her into my body.

My brother, I know, has always been vaguely mystified at the nature of my relationship with his longtime fiancée. He doesn’t understand how she and I can be so much more comfortable around each other than they are. I might add that the base they’ve set has been very, very low. And, obviously, the stakes have been lower for me—until today, anyway.

But the truth is, they were always an atrocious match. So fucking awkward around each other. Selena may have a stick up her arse, but I absolutely don’t, so I can do a much better job of relaxing her than Xav has ever done.

‘How are you doing?’ I ask as I wind my arms around her. She’s tall and svelte, but she feels even more slight than usual. One of those dreadful bridal diets, probably. I couldn’t help but notice on Christmas Day that she stuck to meat and greens and declined any of Cook’s legendary Christmas pudding. Poor little duck.

‘Not great,’ she mumbles against my chest, and I hug her more tightly.