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“How is she?” I asked before she had a chance to speak.
“The same,” she said, bluntly. “If you don’t kill that sonofabitch soon, I’m going to do it myself.”
“Oh, believe me, it won’t be long,” I assured her. “But I need you to do something for me.”
“Go on.”
“Vivian can’t leave just yet.”
She gasped. “What? She has to. She can’t stay here, it’s way too painful for her. And what if she’s seen?”
“Sinclair knows about the explosion now. He’s closed the port and has eyes everywhere on the coastline. We won’t be able to get Vivian out of here without her being seen. She’s safer staying put for now. And that’s where I need your help.”
“You want me to keep her here.”
“Correct.”
“That’s ridiculous, Rupert. The second Ossian opens his scrawny mouth, the whole island will know she’s here. It’s the obvious place she would be.”
“We’ll say Hector put her on a boat as soon as they left the crypt. And, if I know my family, finding Vivian will be the last thing on their mind now. They want blood Minty, and they won’t rest ‘til they find it. We can’t let her go to the coast now. If my family finds her, they’ll kill her. They won’t care why she was here. At least this way they’ll hopefully believe she’s gone and won’t suspect her involvement in the explosion, or anything else for that matter.”
A long pause stretched as Minty breathed heavily. “Fine. But on one condition, Rupert.”
I wasn’t used to anyone laying down conditions, not being a Thorn, supposedly. But Minty knew better and she knew me. “What’s that?”
“You tell her yourself.”
“I can’t. If I come again this evening, I’ll be missed, and Iris will be even more suspicious of me than she already is.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
I let out a sigh. Sinclair had plans for me in the morning, but I’d find a way to see Vivian. There was no question. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
I endured the rest of the evening with varying levels of discomfort. Luckily, carriages arrived at midnight on the dot. I wasn’t sure I could have faked another minute. From the immense look of relief on Hector’s face as he retired to his rooms, the feeling was mutual.
I slid into the back of a chauffeur-driven Bentley beside Elspeth and let a slow sigh escape my lips as we wound our way out of Blackcap Hall to the small hideout I’d arranged on the edge of the southern coast. I’d kept our wedding night venue as a surprise but I didn’t miss the frown of disappointment on Elspeth’s face as we pulled up beside the log cabin.
“What is this?” she asked, in a slightly sour tone.
“A secret hideaway,” I replied, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead.
“Rupert…” She twisted to face me, the diamonds adorning her dress glinting in the light of the moon. “This is our wedding day. I don’t want to be hidden away; I want to be seen. I want the island to know I have everything they could possibly want – grand houses, opulent luxuries, rare jewels, large and extravagant hotel suites. Otherwise, what’s the damn point?”
Right on cue, the driver opened the door at her side and she huffed before climbing out. I stared through the windscreen for a second or two before climbing out myself. Part of me had expected this reaction. Part of me had done this on purpose. But another part wasn’t sure exactly why. Had I wanted to prove to myself Elspeth definitely wasn’t the one for me? Was I afraid I might get too comfortable with our arrangement? Was this a subconscious ruse to keep myself on the right side of morality?
The driver didn’t meet my eyes as I thanked him and fed a key into the door. Elspeth stood to the side with her arms folded tightly across her chest.
“It’s charming inside,” I said, letting her walk in before me. “You’ll see.”
I flicked on a light switch and closed the door. It was warm and cosy, filled with muted light and soft textures. Classical music played in the small living area and a bottle of Blackcap 10 Year Aged Whisky sat warming in front of a freshly lit log fire. Elspeth looked around and I didn’t miss a quirk appearing in one corner of her mouth.
“Don’t be ashamed to admit you like it,” I said, pouring out two whiskies.
“I’m not,” she said with a pout. “You’re right. It is charming.”
She walked into the master bedroom and a fresh flood of guilt filled my stomach. There was no way I could consummate this marriage. No way on earth. Through a crack in the door, I saw two sets of pyjamas laid out on the voluptuous quilt. A Highland tartan set for me and a shimmering satin set for my wife. She sauntered back out with a flushed cheek and naughty smile.
