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“That is a petty and utterly stupid reason not to let me hold my niece.”
“Is it?” I wrap my arm around Mum’s shoulders and guide her out of the family lounge. “I don’t want his dickwad germs around Grace. It’s your choice what vermin you expose yourself to.”
“This is ridiculous, and Fleur is going to kick your arse for being such a prick.” Arabella follows us through to the dining room where our grandparents are having their breakfast. “Why are you being like this? It’s just a cuddle.”
“You realise what they want, don’t you?”
“It’s nothing to do with me.” Georgie sits next to our grandmother. “I don’t want to know about anything. I can’t with any of this shit.”
Grandad clears his throat, and she adds, “Sorry.”
“We don’t have much choice, Casper.” Arabella stands in front of me with a sad, defeated look on her face. “It’s either give them Charles, or they’re going to hurt Lucy.”
“Hurt Lucy?” I snark, taking Grace from Mum when she sits to have her breakfast.
I hold her tighter to me, completely enveloping her in my arms as though they’re enough to shield her from all the evil in the world.
A hungry gurgle sounds from her before she’s burrowing into my chest, looking for her breakfast.
“They’re not going to hurt her, Arabella. Whatever they’ve done to her over the last eight years…if she’s alive, I pity her.”
“I don’t want to hand him over either, you know…” Her hand hovers over mine, cradling Grace’s head. “But…”
Fuck, I feel like a complete cunt for putting that godawful, tortured look on her face. Enough so that when I sit at the table, I offer her the cuddle she’s been after.
She smiles, stroking Grace’s cheek with her crooked finger. “At least you have her.”
Arabella doesn’t take her, which makes me feel worse than I did before her statement.
“Whatever they’ve done to Lucy, death is a mercy after all these years. You know that as well as I do.” I take a sip of the tea Mum pours me, rocking Grace on one of my forearms. “Besides, what makes Lucy any more important or special than Fleur? Why should I give Freddie what he wants when he insists on being a bastard to her?”
“Because she’s one of us,” he says from the doorway.
“Freddie…don’t.” Christopher walks in behind him followed by Leo.
Leo doesn’t say shit—he won’t because deep down he knows the best thing is to bring Charles to justice ourselves and to cut Lucy loose.
“We’re taking a vote,” Francis says as he enters with Lucian, and they sit at the table.
“We’re not voting for shit,” I tell them, standing to rock Grace against my chest, the way she likes it. “None of you make the rules here. I can humour you if I choose, but what I say goes.”
Christopher sits beside Arabella. He knows they’re at my mercy. Because here, I rule over them. Fuck, even she does.
“We need to make a decision. We can’t keep him prisoner forever,” Lucian says, not taking his eyes from Grace.
I found him lingering outside our bedroom the other day, unsure how to broach meeting his granddaughter.
“I don’t want to keep him prisoner forever.”
“But if he wanted to, he could.” Grandad’s tone is assertive, final.
“We can end all of this with him.” Francis is looking at me as I pace the floor trying to buy Fleur a little more rest.
“None of it ends with Charles. He’s a nobody in the grand scheme of things. You just want to rescue the Stanton girl to keep Harry sweet. And that’s fine, it’s a great fucking i
dea, so long as you find a way to do it without taking away the justice Fleur deserves.”
“She’s not important right now!” Freddie barks at me.
