Page 4 of Secret Dynasty

“It’s okay,” Eliza said softly. She tilted her head to meet my eyes. “Hey, can I smoke in this bitch’s car?”

I couldn’t help laughing as I nodded. “Go ahead.”

I appreciated that she hadn’t lumped me in with Kerrigan. She hadn’t said your car. It didn’t mean she believed me, but it made me feel like I was still Kate to her.

Eliza rolled the window down just enough that rain wouldn’t get in and lit her cigarette. She held out the opened pack. I started to decline, changed my mind, and took one. If there was ever a night to do something out of character, this would be it. But I didn’t light it.

“You want me to burn their house down?” she asked.

My head swiveled to stare at her.

“What?” She shrugged. “I’ve got your back. You say burn it down, I’ve already got the lighter.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, but I appreciate the offer,” I said. I had no desire to inspire arson, but it was comforting to know that Eliza was behind me no matter what. “I just don’t understand what’s going on.”

“That makes two of us.” She blew a stream of smoke toward the cracked window. “I mean, it would explain the shitty waitressing.”

I laughed humorlessly. It would, but it wouldn’t explain much else—like my whole life until this moment.

“I mean, why would he lie?” she asked me.

“Marrying his daughter into the Byrd family is all he cares about,” I told her. “He basically groomed Kerrigan to be the ideal wife for Spencer since she was little. He wants the family title.”

“But if he’s lying and you aren’t...why would he want a stranger to marry Spencer?”

“It will still be her name,” I said miserably.

“And if she comes back?” Eliza pressed. “Where does he expect you to go?”

“I think that’s where the ten million pounds comes in.” I’d known it was an insane amount of money when he first dangled the offer in front of me. I had expected it to come with strings, but I was quickly discovering most of them weren’t visible to me at the time. I thought giving up my virginity was the biggest sacrifice I’d be asked to make. It felt like nothing now.

“Well, he’s stupid then.” Eliza’s directness caught me off-guard. “A story like this: orphan paid to masquerade as an heiress and marry the future Prime Minister? That story will be worth a lot more than ten million.”

She had a point. The realization settled over me with a dull numbness that felt terribly like dread. Tod Belmond must have known that in London’s gossip-hungry culture, I could get that much or more just for inside information.

“Think about it, K. You could sell book rights, movie rights, go on talk shows,” she continued. “You could make a fortune.”

Her words twisted inside me until it felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“It’s impossible,” I whispered. “I’m not Kerrigan Belmond.”

Eliza nodded, tossing her cigarette butt out the window. “If that’s what—”

“Where did we meet?” I cut her off before she could cast her lot in with mine.

“At the pub.” She studied me for a minute. “Don’t you remember?”

“It’s just a little fuzzy.”

“You came in asking about flats to rent,” she prompted.

“That’s right.” I had found myself in Bexby with nowhere to stay and no money. I’d asked about flats and then I’d asked about jobs. “You said you needed a flatmate.”

“I did.”

“You barely knew me.” A terrible thought occurred to me.

“There are like five people living in West Bexby. I didn’t have a lot of options. Besides, you seemed nice, and I was pretty sure I could take you in a fight if you came at me with a butcher knife.”