“You know, Arra, I’m not comfortable with how this makes me feel. About us. About you.”
She swallows. “You know I love you—”
“I think you love the idea of me. Or you once did—back when I was set to inherit.”
The cut slices deep. She reaches up, touches his face. “Patrick, I will always love you. No matter the legacy.”
His gaze holds hers, searching for the lie.
She presses. “It’s because I love you that I wanted you on this ship. To spend time with Lillith. She lost him, too, Patrick. She’s also grieving. And I know you do hurt. I know you’re sad. Angry. Despite everything he was. Don’t walk away from family now.”
“You mean, don’t walk away from Lillith and the money.” His mouth is tight.
“I mean, don’t excise her from your life out of anger. She doesn’t want that any more than you honestly do. What Angus did is not her fault. And it’s certainly not yours. His mind wasn’t right in those final weeks, I’m convinced of it. Letting his words come between you and your mother is—”
“Stepmother.”
Arrabella sinks onto the sofa, suddenly drained.
“Why won’t you tell me what he said to you in his study that day?”
Whatever happened in there is behind Patrick’s refusal to fight for what’s his. She’s sure of it.
Pain flickers through his eyes. He turns away from her again, shoulders tense, neck corded.
“Why won’t you tell me?”
“It’s personal, Arra. Nothing you can change.”
“So share it, Patrick. Off-load it. Holding emotional pain inside can make people sick.”
He doesn’t move. His glass is almost empty.
“At least offer Lillith some comfort. That alone could help you. Helping others saves people in dire situations, you know. It’s a proven fact.”
He says nothing.
“I know you care for her,” she urges gently.
Finally, he slumps into a chair, sets down his glass, rubs his face hard with both hands.
She goes to him, lays a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t want a handout from her,” he says before she can speak. “I’m not interested in some peace offering. I’m not going to grovel. I’ll agree to see her tonight, but in the morning I’m off this boat in Crete. Don’t try to change my mind.”
Arrabella plays her last card.
“I think Lillith is in danger, Patrick. Especially now. On this ship.”
He glances up sharply. “What do you mean?”
“Poppy. She’s bad news.”
“Oh, please—”
“No. Hear me out. Where did the woman even come from?”
“Lillith said she met her in Brighton.”
