The engine purrs as we pass the last line of winter-bare trees. The house comes into view. Pink tenses, his fingers tightening around my knee in surprise.
I probably should have told him that I am the son of a duke.
Pink has figured out that I’m inheriting something, but I’ve been in such a daze that it hasn’t crossed my mind to confess everything and fill in the blanks. Pink was probably expecting me to be a lord.
But Clifford House is far grander than any lord’s.
The car pulls up in front of the sweeping white stone steps that lead up to the front doors. The chance to explain has passed.
James opens the door for me and then for Pink. I am about to say something, some kind of hasty apology, when the front doors of the house open and my mother appears.
Silently, Pink and I walk side by side up the stairs to greet her.
Her green eyes are fixed on Pink. I can’t read her expression at all. But she is bound to be surprised, because I didn’t tell her I was bringing a guest. I was too much of a coward for that.
I swallow tightly, “Mother, this is Pink, my…”
My tongue falters to a stop. Boyfriend. The word is boyfriend. It is not hard to say. Two little syllables. A shocking and scandalous thing amongst Old Blood society. But easy enough to utter.
Mother pins me with her withering gaze,
“Vessel,” I finish weakly.
Pink flinches, and I want to close my eyes against the pain.
“I know who you are,” Mother says as she snaps her attention back to Pink. “Benjamin Hartley. Lord Wandsworth’s youngest.”
I blink in surprise. I didn’t even know what Pink’s birth-name was. But trust Mother to know everything and everyone. She has a frightening ability to never forget a face. I should have foreseen this.
Pink gives her an impeccable bow. “Duchess Eastminster, I am so sorry for your loss.”
I’m not sure how they know each other, but it is not at all surprising. Old Blood society isn’t large and my Mother is quite a domineering, unforgettable figure. Pink probably crossed paths with her at one of the very many functions I avoided.
Pink’s brown eyes flick to me, to the grand entrance of the house, and then back to Mother. He pales slightly. My stomach churns. He knows exactly who I am now. There is no turning back from this. No going back to the way things were.
“Rumor was you had run away,” sniffs Mother, her cold gaze all but dissecting Pink.
Pink pales even more and I grab his hand and hold it firmly.
“Well, I found him,” I say sternly.
No way in hell is Pink going to have to share that his parents sold him as a sex slave to a perverted tech bro billionaire.
Mother raises an eyebrow. A gleam of begrudging respect glints in her cold eyes.
“Well done, Montgomery,” she says. “He is a very pretty little thing. An asset, I’m sure.”
I bite my tongue and refrain from saying a word. There is nothing to be gained from bickering with my mother. Especially when she has bestowed a rare compliment. Even if it is a dark and twisted one.
Seemingly satisfied, she turns on her heels and leads us to the drawing room. Mr. Humphries, our family lawyer, is already seated behind the desk with a mountain of paperwork. He rises and shakes my hand as I enter.
Laurie is sitting quietly in the corner. He also gets to his feet to greet me with a polite handshake. He keeps his gaze fixed on the floor like a good vessel should, but he looks well. Healthy and unharmed. It is damn good to see him.
I want to grin and pull him into a hug and tell him he is safe now. But that would be premature. I’m not officially Duke Eastminster yet. There is this paperwork to get through and then a formal investiture. But soon, soon it will all be over and Laurie will be free.
I take my seat across from Mr. Humphries and get stuck into the paperwork. Mother sits by my side and peers intently at everything I do.
After a while, I glance up and see Pink and Laurie quietly talking. Laurie’s head is still down, but he looks more at ease than I have ever seen him.
