Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
And he excelled at his job, so being infuriated, he’d take that elsewhere.
Once Fitzy left, Prue queried in a small voice, “That’s all she asked?”
I got up and hobbled over to sit beside her on the sofa, where I took her hand.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Battle said when I was in position. “That’s all she asked.”
Hamish tucked Tempie closer. Christian nabbed Chassie’s hand. I held Prue’s fast.
Again, there was silence.
“Does anyone have anything they want to say?” Battle invited.
“Or shout,” I added.
“She was grasping and vacuous when she was around,” Tempie noted. “It’s hardly a surprise she hasn’t changed.”
After Tempie said this, Chassie made a noise then started crying.
Battle began to make a move to go to her but settled when Christian got up, pulled her out of her chair and into his arms.
I watched Battle watching this.
This meant I watched Battle struggle with handing over the reins he’d held so steady and strong for twenty-eight years, providing love, support and protection to his baby sister.
Witnessing this struggle, I wished I was holding his hand.
But for Chassie, no real shocker, her big brother bested it.
Chassie pulled from Christian and cried, “God, she’s such a bitch!”
She then started sobbing again and Christian tucked her right back to his chest.
“How are you hanging in?” I asked Prue.
“It”—she pulled her shoulders in and released them—“hurts. But it always hurts. I can’t say I’m surprised. Except at the level of cruelty it took for her to call Battle to ask that question when she can just Google rules of the peerage and know.”
“It’s not cruel. It’s selfish and thoughtless and lazy, all her, all the time,” Tempie stated. “It didn’t even occur to her to think how Battle, or any of us, would respond to her call.”
This was the sad truth.
The room descended into silence again.
Eventually, Chassie stopped crying, and Christian sat her back in her chair, but he pulled his closer to hers so she could list to the side and rest her head on his shoulder.
“This is what I know,” Hamish announced.
Everyone looked to him.
He didn’t disappoint.
“For better, or for worse, the challenges life gives us make us who we are.” He looked down at Tempie tucked to his side. “If she was not an awful woman, you might not have had to become savvy and strong and able to love with an invisible depth that has no ending.”
God, I just loved Hamish for Tempie.
He so got her.
Hamish looked to the group. “That woman was a reprehensibly terrible mother. But you four would not have what you have if she wasn’t. It doesn’t make the flaws in her character right. But it does bring out in stark relief the strength of all of yours.”
Jeez.
I so totally liked that guy.
Tempie did too, if her grabbing his beard and pulling his mouth to hers so they could make out hot and heavy on the couch was anything to go by.
As fabulous a moment as that was, it went on a long time.
And Prue got done with it.
“Yuck!” she cried. “Go to your room!”
They broke, and Tempie snuggled up against her hot Scotsman with a smug smile on her face.
“Hamish is right,” I said. “I told my sister I felt comfortable here, in this beautiful jewel of a massive house, which could and maybe should be formidable, but it isn’t. Because it’s so full of love. You four built that. And I’m so honored I was even invited to walk through the front doors to experience it.”
“Oh, Vivi,” Prue said and gave me a hug.
I hugged her back.
“Shall we metaphorically bury mother like our ancestors buried dead bodies and move on?” Tempie suggested, to Hamish’s head jerking and Christian’s eyes narrowing on her.
Battle sighed.
I returned to the chair next to him and my drink.
Bartholomew started snoring.
And a loving family in a house filled with love sipped cocktails while they waited on dinner.
The next Monday, when Battle was back in London, and my hands had healed enough I was back in the studio (with electricity and phone line repaired), Prue came out and knocked on the door.
She stuck her head in.
“I know you hate interruptions, but I need to ask you something,” she said.
“Girl, I need to stand or my hip flexors are gonna be locked in sit position for the rest of my life.” I looked out the windows at the sun shining and suggested, “Wanna take a walk?”
She nodded.
I left the cats snoozing (as was their wont), and we walked out into the sunshine and Chassie’s flourishing garden.
“What’s up?” I prompted.
“Natalie and I just had a long chat, and I’m accepting an offer for my book.”
She then told me the advance, and I stopped dead.
She stopped with me.
“Holy fuck,” I whispered.
“Is that a lot?” she asked.
“Uh…yeah.”
I was really becoming a master of the English understatement.
Go me!
“Okay, see, I want to publish under a pen name,” she declared.