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CASPER
Lucian looks up at me from his drink. He doesn’t say anything for a while, which pisses me off.
“We’re having a child…”
“Casper, you’re asking the wrong person,” he tells me, taking out a cigarette for each of us and lighting his before giving me the lighter.
“Who should I ask? Charles?” I take a puff of my smoke. “Hey, cunt, I’m about to blow your brains out and all, but would you mind giving me the A-OK to marry the girl you were going to sell in order to pay for the money you and the other cunt stole from the Russians?”
“What’s going on?” Francis sits at the table with us, watching as Freddie and Christopher carry on with their darts game.
Dad follows him, and I wish I hadn’t broached the subject right now. Especially when Leo walks into the room and it all turns to business.
“It doesn’t matter,” I tell them, going to the French doors and slipping outside to get my head back in order before we decide how to go forward.
The door opens and shuts a second later. I take another drag and hold it while Dad stands beside me. When I release it, he takes a deep breath before he asks, “How is Fleur?”
“Who’s asking? The Deputy Prime Minister or my father?”
He takes another deep breath. “I’m both of those things, including a husband. I’m one man filling all those roles, but right now, I just want to talk to my son.” Turning his back on the lake, he leans on the wall with his elbows, gaze levelled to mine. “How is she?”
Concern is etched on his face. Benedict Gladstone doesn’t often look like the father I remember from my childhood, but he does now. And it’s disarming.
“She’s Fleur. Calm in the storm. She’s hurting and tired, but she’s still holding on.”
A smile softens his face. “Then you make sure you hold on too.”
“What?” I’m taken back by his words. They’re not what I expected.
“If she’s worth it to you, hold on to her. You don’t let go.”
“And what about them?” I nod at the doors while I grind the butt of my cigarette with my boot.
“What about them?”
“They’re aware she doesn’t know shit, but they’re still out for her blood. My blood.”
“Christopher is angry with you because you left his side when he needed you. All the things you’re feeling about them abandoning Fleur, he’s feeling because you disappeared when Arabella was taken.”
“And you? Are you angry with me too?” A part of me is still fucking pissed that I took off when my sister was taken by Charles. If things hadn’t turned out the way they had, I don’t know what I would do with myself.
“Casper, you made a decision to protect your family. Not one of us can fault you for that. Was I angry when you took off? Yes, not because of the situation with you and Fleur. It was the secrecy of it all. Your mother is heartbroken that you didn’t talk to her.”
I didn’t think of any of that. It all happened so quickly, and there was so much going on that I only thought about protecting Fleur and our baby, even before they started turning on her.
I wanted to protect them from Christopher’s and Arabella’s reactions. And a part of me wanted to keep them to myself. I know how things are in our family. They would have descended on her, and she would’ve suffocated. Especially after losing Arabella’s child, they would’ve been overbearing.
“She’ll live.”
“Don’t be callous. You’re belittling your good deed with your pride. Your mother deserves better than a shrug.”
“I had to take Fleur away before they tore her apart. I had visions of what went down with Bella happening to her. I couldn’t let it come to that.”
“What have I always preached to you?” Straightening, he searches my pockets until he finds my smokes. He helps himself to one, holding it between his lips while he waits for an answer.
“Not to forget my role.”
“What else?” He sounds pissed as he looks for my lighter. “That’s not the most important thing I taught you. You know that.”
