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“No.” Harvard took a seat facing Rupert Talbot. “This isn’t about your gambling debt. This is about Rachel.”
“Rachel?” Rupert turned gray. “Is she okay?”
Harvard opened the folder he’d brought in with him and took out a copy of one of the photos that had been left for Rachel to find. “No. She’s not okay.”
Rupert leaned forward to look at the photo. He gasped, and what little color remained in his skin drained away entirely. “What the hell?” he muttered. His hand shaking, he reached for the photo. His body swa
yed. And then he toppled sideways, falling off his chair and onto the floor—out cold.
“What a fabulous idea to sit beside your pool while we did this,” Samantha said as she handed Rachel a glass of Merlot before settling into the lounger beside her.
“It was your idea.” Rachel sipped her wine, glancing at the skylight above, where the remainder of the sunset turned the clouds pink.
“That’s why it’s fabulous.” Samantha beamed as she drank from her own glass of champagne. “All of my ideas are fabulous.”
“No one could ever accuse you of suffering from too much humility,” Rachel said, wishing she had more wine, as one glass wouldn’t be enough. She loved her cousin dearly, but she was in no mood to watch her gush over wedding ideas. “Where’s this folder of yours?” Rachel put her empty glass on the table beside her, feeling slightly light-headed as she did so. They should have eaten before they got into the wine.
“Oh, blast. I must have forgotten it.” Sam didn’t seem bothered as she watched Rachel over the rim of her champagne flute.
“Honestly,” Rachel said, tugging at the throat of her dress. The thermostat for the pool room had to be broken because the temperature seemed to be rising far too fast. “If you made up an excuse just so you could come up here and flirt with my fiancé, then you can leave right now. I don’t have the patience to put up with it.”
“No.” Sam smiled widely, but her eyes were strangely cold. “I know that Harvard belongs to you. He seems to be just as faithful to you as the rest of your family. You’re very good at gaining the loyalty of the people around you, aren’t you, Rachel?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her head spun now, and all she wanted to do was lie down in a darkened room.
“You’ve always been the darling of the Talbot clan, no matter how absolutely horrid you can be. It grated when I was a child, and I find it grates even more now I’m an adult. Why are you so popular? Do you have any idea? Because I’m at a loss.”
Rachel placed a hand on her stomach. Something was wrong. Her brain felt cloudy and the room seemed to zoom in and out of focus. She tried to get up off the seat, but she just became more disoriented, so she sat back down. “You have to call someone,” she told her cousin. “I don’t feel very well.”
Samantha didn’t seem to hear her. “You’re the one everybody hoped would lead the company one day. The one who inherited a title from your mother, one you don’t even bother using, so it’s completely wasted on you. Lady Rachel Ford-Talbot.” She sneered. “If anyone’s a Lady, it’s me. But no. The whole world revolves around Rachel. No matter what you do, you’re the favored child. You’re the one included in the traditions that pass from female to female. And when you’re in the room, all anyone can see is Rachel. Even after you were gone for ten years, you walked straight back into the company and had everyone talking about you taking over the helm one day soon. What about the rest of us? We’ve been there all along. But no, we don’t get a look in when you’re around.”
“Sam, I don’t have the energy to deal with your hurt feelings right now. I can honestly say that I don’t try to steal your spotlight. I don’t even care about it. Now, will you please call the doctor? I think I’m going to be sick.”
“And you never share,” Samantha continued to rant, growing more irate with each word. “Even that damn locket. It belonged to our great-grandmother, and it passed to you. I’m the only other female in the family that counts. Those bastard children from Theo’s many marriages don’t have the same stake in this family that I do. They don’t have my pedigree. I have just as much claim to our heritage as you. But no. It’s all about Rachel!”
“For the love of Prada, if you want the bloody locket, take it.” She was about to pass out. She could feel it creeping into the edges of her consciousness. Sam had to call for help. There was something seriously wrong.
“Oh, I don’t want it now,” Samantha said with a cruel smile. “Because, dear cousin, I know exactly where it’s been.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“Want me to get a bucket of water?” Ryan sounded a little overeager as Harvard checked their detainee.
“No, he’s coming around. You with us, Rupert?”
There was a groan from the floor. “What?” His glazed eyes cleared somewhat. “Rachel. Dear God. Rachel.” He struggled to get up, and Harvard and Ryan helped him back into the chair.
As soon as he was there, he flipped over the photo of Rachel’s attack so he couldn’t see the image, then rubbed his hands on his thighs. As if trying to remove the contact with the photo. “You think I did that?” Hysteria rose in his voice. “You think I…I…I can’t even say it! You think I sexually assaulted my own cousin?”
“Ryan,” Harvard said to his teammate, who stood beside the door, “get Rupert a glass of water.” Before he emptied his stomach all over the floor.
Ryan slipped out and returned a few seconds later with a bottle of water. He handed it to Rupert, who took a sip before grimacing.
“Someone’s been sending Rachel photos of an attack that happened ten years ago,” Harvard said, keeping his voice low and calm. “When the photos didn’t get the desired result, they sent a video. My teammates hacked the data on the video, and it turns out it was taken with your phone.”
“No,” Rupert said on a gasp. “No.” He vehemently shook his head. “I had nothing to do with this. Nothing. How can you even think that? She’s my cousin. I love her. This is…abhorrent.”
Harvard sat back in his seat. “Somebody set up her rape. Somebody filmed it. Yours is the only name on the video file.”
