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“Your Grace?”
At the chauffeur’s words, Rathe looked up and realized they had already reached their destination.
Shoving his phone back in his pocket, Rathe hurriedly stepped out of the car. Bursting through the hospital doors, he grimly made his way straight to the nurse station, not pausing for anyone and uncaring of who he ended up mauling down in his haste.
All that mattered was to see Mary was all right.
When he saw his father in the waiting area, Rathe demanded, “Where is she?”
Seeing his son approach, Warren heavily came to his feet. “I’ve been waiting for you, son.”
The words were completely unexpected, throwing Rathe for a loop. It had him lurching into a stop, his concern for Mary depriving his every movement of his usual grace. “Where’s Mary, Father?”
Instead of answering, Warren said, “There’s something I have to tell you.”
Rathe shook his head. “Whatever it is, it has to wait. Ineedto see Mary—-” The memory of seeing her faint made him shudder. “Ineedto see her,” he repeated doggedly. “I need to see she’s okay.”
When Rathe started for the nurse station, Warren held his son back. “You won’t find her here.”
“What do you mean I won’t find her here?” Rathe snapped. “Didn’t you text me that she was confined here?”
“Yes, but—-”
Rathe growled, “I don’t know what games you’re playing—-”
“She doesn’t want to see you again!”
Rathe completely lost color at the words.
Warren hadn’t meant to shout, but the desperate light in his son’s eyes had told him it was the only way he could get through to Rathe. “Mary isn’t here, but I can assure you that she’s fine. She’s in good hands and your mother’s with her.”
After a beat, Rathe’s head jerked in a nod.
Inhaling, Warren knew what was next would be more difficult because it involved hurting his son in the process. “Now, I have something to tell you. Something that your mother and I should have told you from the start.”
When Rathe started to shake his head, Warren raised his hand to hold his son off. “I just need a moment of your time. Just listen to me this once because this has something to do with you and Mary.” Feeling a little unsteady on his feet, he jerked his head towards the seats in the waiting area. “Shall we take our seats first?”
“Whatever you want,” Rathe said numbly. There was a dull sound ringing in his ears, a warning that whatever he was about to learn, it wouldn’t be good.
When they were both seated, Warren asked quietly, “Do you know about Mrs. Emerson?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry about it. And Camilla.”
Rathe said gruffly, “I’m sorry about Wilson. I know you and he have been friends much longer.”
Warren laughed shortly. “Well, turns out that your mother was right. He really is a crazy son of a bitch. I was a fool to trust him over your mother...” He paused. “So don’t beat yourself up for the rest of your life because you may have believed Camilla over Mary.”
Self-revulsion engulfed Rathe at the words. “I’ll do my best, but I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for it.” He closed his eyes. “I really thought I knew everything...”
“I did, too. Your mother did, too, and I’m sure there were instances Mary did, too.” Warren smiled briefly. “You see, son, that’s how love is. It makes us so bloody vulnerable, makes us feel so damnably powerless that we sometimes put up defenses...”
Rathe laughed hollowly, remembering the numerous times he had tried to distance himself from Mary.
“And use pretenses...”
He asked flatly, “Is that a dig about the fake engagement?”
