Chapter 2 - THE NAME I GAVE HIM
“Margaret Aldridge.”
The words came out more steadily than I felt.
Behind me, someone shifted.
Margaret made a small sound.
“Lydia,” she warned.
Cassian Vale never looked away from me.
“You’re saying Mrs. Aldridge threatened you into standing here?”
“My mother lives in one of their employee cottages. Her medical assistance comes through them.”
Margaret stepped forward.
“That is a vicious distortion.”
Cassian raised one hand.
She stopped.
He didn’t raise his voice.
That frightened her more.
“What happens to Lydia’s mother if Lydia refuses this marriage?”
Margaret’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Cassian looked toward one of his men.
“Clear the chapel.”
Margaret stiffened.
“Cassian, surely we can discuss—”
“Not you.”
Within thirty seconds, the priest was gone.
So were most of the men.
Three remained near the doors.
Cassian looked at me.
“You stay.”
Then Margaret.
“You too.”
Rain beat against the stained glass.
I stood in Evelyn’s wedding dress, wearing shoes half a size too small, while the most feared man I had ever met pulled out a chair for me.
“Sit down.”
I stared at him.
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
Something about the simple correction nearly broke me.
I sat.
Cassian removed his black jacket and laid it across the back of another chair.
Margaret remained standing.
“This arrangement was made between our families,” she said. “Evelyn’s disappearance created an emergency.”
“An emergency does not turn a housekeeper into property.”
Margaret flushed.
“You don’t understand what is at stake.”
Cassian’s eyes hardened.
“I understand exactly what was promised to me.”
That was the first moment I realized this marriage had never been romantic.
Cassian turned to me.
“Evelyn and I were supposed to marry because the Aldridge companies needed Vale protection. Her father proposed the arrangement before his death.”
Margaret’s face tightened.
Cassian continued.
“In return, certain Aldridge debts would be settled. Their employees would keep their jobs. Their family would remain under my protection.”
I looked at Margaret.
“My mother’s house?”
“Was never part of the agreement,” Cassian said.
My stomach turned.
Margaret looked suddenly older.
“You don’t know what Dominic told me.”
Cassian went still.
It lasted less than a second.
But I saw it.
“Dominic?”
Margaret realized too late that she had said something important.
She folded her hands.
“Dominic Shaw has handled communication between our families for years.”
Cassian’s expression changed.
Not anger.
Calculation.
“Dominic told you Helen Carter would lose her cottage?”
“He said there would be consequences if the agreement collapsed.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Margaret looked at me.
For the first time that day, there was something besides contempt in her face.
Fear.
“Yes.”
Cassian walked toward the chapel window.
Dominic Shaw.
I knew the name.
Everyone did.
He was Cassian’s oldest friend, business partner, and the man who stood beside him in almost every newspaper photograph taken over the last fifteen years.
Cassian’s voice was quiet.
“Dominic never had authority to make that threat.”
Margaret whispered, “I didn’t know that.”
I almost laughed.
“You didn’t care.”
She looked at me.
“I care about four hundred employees. I care about families who lose their homes when companies collapse. I care about the promises my husband made before he died.”
“So you sacrificed mine.”
Her face hardened again.
“I made an impossible decision.”
“No. You made an easy one because I was the person you could hurt.”
Silence.
Cassian turned.
Something unreadable moved across his face.
Then he spoke to one of the men at the door.
“Call Dr. Renner’s office. Helen Carter’s treatment is covered through Vale Medical starting today. No conditions.”
I stood too quickly.
“No.”
Cassian looked at me.
“I’m not marrying you because you paid my mother’s bills.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“I don’t want to owe you.”
“You won’t.”
“Men like you always collect.”
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
It was probably the rudest thing anyone had said to him that morning.
Maybe all year.
But he only said, “Then consider it repayment.”
“For what?”
“For making you stand in this chapel because someone used my name to frighten your family.”
That answer landed differently.
Margaret sank onto a pew.
Cassian turned to her.
“The wedding is canceled.”
Her head snapped up.
“You can’t.”
“I just did.”
“The Aldridge companies—”
“Remain untouched until I understand what happened.”
Relief crossed her face.
Then Cassian added, “But if you threaten Lydia or Helen again, you will answer directly to me.”
Margaret looked down.
A few minutes later, I was allowed to change.
The small bridal room behind the chapel smelled like candle wax and old wood.
I pulled Evelyn’s dress over my head and put my gray uniform back on.
It felt like returning to my own skin.
Almost.
I was buttoning the last button when I noticed a navy coat hanging behind the door.
It was expensive.
Cashmere.
Evelyn’s.
I knew because I had brushed rainwater from that coat three nights earlier after she returned from dinner.
I reached into one pocket.
Empty.
The other held a train ticket.
Rhinecliff.
Purchased three days earlier.
My pulse quickened.
Evelyn had planned something before she disappeared.
Then my fingers touched metal.
I pulled out a silver bracelet.
Not Evelyn’s.
I had polished enough of her jewelry to know.
The bracelet was heavy, old-fashioned, with a small crest worked into the clasp.
A V.
On the inside were two engraved letters.
R.H.
There was also a folded piece of paper.
Only one sentence.
Cassian was waiting outside the bridal room when I opened the door.
He saw my face.
“What?”
I handed him the bracelet first.
The moment he saw the initials, every trace of color left his face.
“Who is R.H.?” I asked.
His thumb moved across the engraving.
“Rebecca Holt.”
“Your sixth wife?”
“Yes.”
I gave him the note.
He read it once.
Then again.
“What does it say?” Margaret asked from behind him.
Cassian handed it to me.
I read the sentence aloud.
“Ask Cassian what really happened to Rebecca Holt.”
Rain struck the windows harder.
I looked at him.
“You said she was your sixth wife.”
“She was.”
“And everyone says she ran away from your estate barefoot in January.”
Cassian’s eyes remained on the bracelet.
“That part is true.”
Margaret whispered, “Then what does the note mean?”
Cassian slowly lifted his gaze.
“Rebecca didn’t run because I hurt her.”
He closed his hand around the bracelet.
“She ran because someone inside my house convinced her that every order he gave came from me.”
My mouth went dry.
“Who had that kind of access?”
Cassian stared toward the chapel doors.
Then he said the name we had already heard once that morning.
May you like
“Dominic Shaw.”
---
