Deception (Infidelity #3)(59)
Such a simple concept and yet one so foreign.
I couldn’t fight it any more. It had to stop.
If I’d spent one more second in his grasp, or one more grain of sand would have fallen into the pile at the bottom of my hourglass, the scale would have irrevocably tipped.
It would have pushed me over the edge.
I couldn’t do it. My responsibilities screamed at me from the grave, in my father’s voice. Generations of Montagues needed me to stay the course. We’d all sacrificed too much to give into emotion.
Yet sometime during those years of deception, I sensed that Alton knew. Not cognitively—he would have beaten me worse than before—but intuitively. That was why I believed he reasoned that Alexandria could possibly be attracted to Lennox. In my mind, it was a last-ditch effort on his part, but as the clock continued to tick, desperate times called for desperate measures.
My theories centered on Alton’s belief in the old adage: like mother, like daughter.
His bet paid off.
Now all I had to do was prove his involvement. My next visit to Hamilton and Porter included a private discussion with Natalie, the secretary who’d mentioned Del Mar to Alexandria.
My subsequent sip of chardonnay lodged in my throat, the citrus flavor no longer smooth but coarse, as it refused to go down when accompanied by the bellow of my husband’s voice.
“Adelaide!” He repeated my name, softer then louder as he neared the library.
Consciously, I forced the liquid down, struggling to turn off the pictures on my phone and finding my voice. “I’m in here.”
“Why in the hell do you sit in here in the damn dark?”
The room filled with light as he hit the switch. As I blinked my eyes at the brightness, I pushed my phone under the throw and stood to meet him. I had no idea what had happened, but as he entered, the library filled with the cloud of rage that accompanied him.
Placing my glass on the nearby table, I seized my own suddenly chilled hands in an attempt to hide that my trembling from earlier had resumed. At the way the hairs stood tall on my arms, I deducted one thing—he knew about my visit to the lawyers. Defiantly, I lifted my chin and tried to recall the rebuttal I’d planned as my excuse. However, thoughts failed me as he continued his tirade.
“I sent the damn maid to find you and she came back empty-handed. Where the fuck have you been?”
Still scrambling with my defense, I stammered, “I-I’ve been here. I enjoy the view. It’s still warm enough to have the windows open—”
“Everything is hitting the fucking fan!”
I stared up at his face, his chest near enough to mine that I felt the heat radiating from him. His normal crimson, the visible flush of his anger, seeped from his collar up his neck and over his cheeks.
“Everything? What are you talking about?”
“Come down to my office now. You need to know what’s happened.”
My hand fluttered near my neck as I took a step backward. My knees grew weak as I sank to the chaise. “Alexandria? What happened?”
Alton’s eyes narrowed. “No, Adelaide, for once it’s not your daughter who’s trying to ruin everything.”
My throat grew dry. I had to know what was in store. “Did I—”
He didn’t let me finish. “Not everything is about you!” He scanned my attire. “Get down to my office. Don’t worry about getting dressed. It’s only Suzy and Bryce. This needs a family conference.”
Relief and confusion replaced my initial anxiety.
I shook my head. It was after ten o’clock. Why in the hell were Suzy and Bryce in his office? “What happened?”
He turned abruptly around. “Just shut up and listen. You’ll learn everything in a minute. We need to put a fucking stop to this circus.”
I stayed rooted to the library floor, the bright lights now obscuring the peaceful view. In the large leaded windows I saw only my own reflection. For a moment, I watched as the woman in the glass straightened her shoulders and secured the ties of her robe.
This was my house. I’d long ago decided not to let my best friend’s presence in any situation, even when we were categorized as family, intimidate me. If Alton wanted a family conference, I’d take my place as Mrs. Fitzgerald at that damn table and smile smugly at the whore who willingly made my life easier. Maybe when this was done, he’d find a reason to go into town—work perhaps—and I’d have a nice night’s sleep.
“Adelaide, now!”
I refilled my glass, emptying the bottle upon the table and followed in the wake of Alton’s displeasure.
ONLY A FEW steps behind, I entered Alton’s office and stepped into his cloud of malcontent. My eyes searched the regal room. Beyond the large windows was only darkness, a contrast to the stark illumination within. The bookcases, filled with treasures that belonged to my father and his father before him, created a colorful addition to the darkness of the wood trim. The air only moments before had been light and freely flowed into my lungs. Now, it was heavy, weighted down with something I didn’t understand. No longer did it substantiate life: it suffocated, effectively snuffing out what before it had promoted.
Pressing my lips together, I assessed what had happened. All I’d been told was that the perpetrator of this offense was neither Alexandria nor I, for once. Considering the amount of tension hanging in the air like dark smoke, I was eternally grateful for the reprieve from being the center of yet another mishap. My best friend, Suzanna, stood uncharacteristically quiet, leaning against the far wall, her arms crossed over her breasts and a solemn look upon her face. Her eyes didn’t seek to find me. Instead, they stayed set on Alton, pleading some unspoken request.