But then Manon gripped her hand, and Scarlett looked down at where her arm was linked with Beni’s. She wasn’t really alone.
Manon, Beni, and Brayden. Her reasons to hold it together.
She stole a glance at her brother’s face. His breathing was jagged as two tears slipped down his cheeks. She let go of her grandmother’s hand and pulled him into her arms. Beni threaded his arms around her waist, and they held each other for a long moment.
Beyond him Laylani stood next to her sister, Lady Moira Ashworth. The women both wore black netting over their faces, but underneath it, they were stoic and composed.
Scarlett glared at her stepmother’s profile. Since her father’s death, Laylani had offered only frigid advice, such as “you’ll get over it,” even to her son. The most upset Laylani had been was when she’d learned Jules had asked to be buried next to his first wife in his will, but she’d seemed more angry than sad or hurt. The only other crack in her composure was the return of her secret cigarette habit. Scarlett never actually saw Laylani smoking, but the smell of smoke mixed with her expensive perfume whenever she passed Scarlett in the hallway. Scarlett couldn’t believe a loving wife would react so minimally to her husband’s violent murder.
Scarlett, on the other hand, had eyes that were swollen from crying.
The eulogy ended, and she turned to look at the rows and rows of chairs behind them while the next speaker approached the podium. Her gaze immediately locked on the Spencer family. They were in the second row, along with most of her father’s peers from Parliament. Elestine looked far more devastated than Laylani and was dabbing her veiled face with a tissue while her shoulders shook. Alastair stared at her until she turned away to face forward.
He’d come to see her the day after her dad’s death, but she was asleep after returning from the hospital, so Martin had turned him away. Their breakup seemed like such an insignificant thing in the wake of this tragedy, and yet it had tainted her final hours with her father.
Scarlett flinched as guns fired into the air in a salute. Manon grasped Scarlett’s hand tighter. A bagpipe played, signaling the end of the funeral.
The past few hours—the past fewdays—had been utterlydraining, and all Scarlett wanted was to be out of the public eye. She couldn’t believe she still had to get through a funeral luncheon at the Navy Club. She’d rather go home and be alone with Beni and Manon, and later that night, with Brayden.
She stood and took a deep, steadying breath as their security team approached, ready to lead the family back to their vehicle. Laylani took Beni’s hand and pulled him away from Scarlett, either ignoring or not noticing Scarlett’s glare. In front of hundreds of onlookers, they all began the walk to the car. To Scarlett’s surprise, Lady Moira Ashworth began to walk beside them, directly next to Scarlett. Her presence chafed. Her dad had privately hated his sister-in-law, and Scarlett had never liked her either.
Is she trying to be in the photographs of the funeral? To look patriotic?
“It goes without saying that I’m sorry for your loss,” began Moira as they walked side by side toward the vehicles. “Your father and I didn’t agree politically, but I respected him.”
“Thank you.” A bead of sweat trickled down Scarlett’s back. The eyes of the crowd were weighing her down, and she hoped Lady Ashworth was done talking.
As her family got into the waiting SUV, Moira pulled her aside.
“Scarlett, could I have a quick word?”
Scarlett stiffened. “I shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
“I’ll make it quick. I wanted to let you know you have options.” She waved when Laylani looked at them, motioning to Scarlett.
To Scarlett’s surprise, her stepmother waved back, seemingly fine with the delay.
Oh, here we go.What the hell could this be about? Unable to force a polite, attentive expression, she let her features relax without attempting to smile.
Moira looked as if it were any other day as she spoke. “Laylani mentioned you’ve postponed your tour abroad, which is wise,but you’ve got a couple of years before you’ll inherit. You’ll need to dosomething. If you’d consider it, I’d like you to join my staff. I could offer you opportunities you may have never considered.”
Moira waited for a response, but Scarlett stared at her. Was sheserious?
After a long pause, Moira went on. “Give it a think, and we can discuss it anytime you like.”
Scarlett willed her bleary eyes to focus. Who did this woman think she was, trying to get Scarlett to abandon her father’s beloved Cerulean Party the day of his funeral? She sucked in a breath and spoke.
“Lady Ashworth, my father was shot in front of me four days ago. I find it odd you’re offering me a job under these circumstances. Don’t you think, if I were going to work in Parliament, it would make more sense for me to take my father’s seat early? With respect, why would I want to work for you?”
Before Moira had approached, Scarlett’s only plan was to quietly make it from one day to the next until being alive wasn’t nonstop pain. That was still her plan, if she were honest, but it was gratifying to piss off Lady Ashworth all the same. Her dad would have loved the way Moira’s eyes flashed at Scarlett’s words. She’d never looked more like Laylani. It had always confused Scarlett that Jules could love Laylani and hate her sister when, to Scarlett, they were a matched set.
Then Moira’s calm demeanor returned. “There’s no rush to take his seat, is there?” Her voice was soft enough that no one around them could overhear. “You’d benefit from a year or two of mentoring.”
Does she think I’m stupid?
Scarlett stared pointedly at Moira. “If I take his seat, I could help pass my father’s border legislation. I’ve been watching the news over the past few days. With my father dead, his legislation is in jeopardy. I could use whatever sympathy I have in the wakeof his death to help. I know my vote is needed to preserve his legacy.”
Moira’s gaze darkened. “I’d hoped you might be more open-minded.”
