Page 282 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

‘I’ll walk you there.’

Lachlan grits his teeth. ‘Fine.’

They leave together, but once outside, she pulls him into a small dip that they both know is a blind spot.

‘Did you sleep with Danya?’

‘Fucking hell, here we go.’

‘Answer me and prove what I already know.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Why are you letting Julian believe otherwise?’ Her green eyes move rapidly between his, reading. She signs, Penhalyx knows?

Lachlan nods sharply. He ordered me to end it.

Blaire shakes her head, looks sad. Did you have to be so cruel about it?

He wouldn’t believe anything less, he signs.

I understand, but Danya as collateral damage is hard to swallow.

Lachlan shakes his head. When we get them out, you can tell him.

You don’t worry that Danya will correct him when asked?

Danya denying it will make it seem more real.

She lifts her hand to cup his cheek.

‘I see the root of your intent and cannot fault you.’

‘That’s fine, I can fault myself to eternity and back,’ he chuckles mirthlessly, leaning into her hand. ‘Will you help me?’

‘Will I lie for you? Is that what you’re asking?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’d do anything for you,’ she tells him, thumb moving over his cheekbone just once before she pulls away, ‘and this is no exception. For whatever it’s worth, you’re doing the right thing.’

It gives him a dose of strength he so desperately needs.

‘Doesn’t feel like it.’

‘It never does.’

✴

The day quiets. The sun sets. The Estate winds down.

Lachlan puts Mimi to bed and reads her three long stories to make up for every second he could have spent with her today that he didn’t.

‘Goodnight, princess,’ he says when they’re done, arranging Mari beneath the covers. ‘Did you have a good Christmas?’

She smiles. ‘The best one.’

Something in Lachlan’s chest wrenches. ‘I’m glad.’