Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
I grit my teeth. “And if I decide not to marry her?”
“Then Blackthorn Holdings cannot pass to you. The terms are very clear about that.”
Yes, I knew the answer, but it still pisses me off.
This company will only be mine if I play along. A stupid damn game designed for a reason no one seems to know and no one cares about except me.
“Does Hattie know yet?” I ask.
“She does. I briefed her this morning, per your sister’s advice. She practically insisted when she saw the will yesterday.”
“And?”
“And what?”
For a moment, I try to picture little Hattie like I remember, her curly blonde hair that never stayed in a bun and timid green eyes. Round spectacles, pale white skin, this baby fat she could never seem to lose well into her teens.
The girl always looked at me like she was petrified.
At the time, I loved it.
“How did she take it?”
Wilkes takes a moment to answer. “I’d say she was a little rattled.”
I snort loudly.
If Hattie feels anything like I do, she’s more than just rattled.
But that’s just it—I don’t know the first thing about Hattie now.
I don’t know if she still hates me.
I don’t know what she’s thinking at all.
“No surprise,” I say. “It’s not every day you get pushed into a marriage you never asked for. What girl dreams of that? But will she agree if—if, for some unearthly reason—there’s no way out of it?”
Miss Wilkes does another disapproving lip press. It’s impressive how she can convey so much irritation with such slight expressions.
“Miss Sage required a cool compress to revive her,” she says. “I believe your sister took her home immediately.”
“She fainted?” I frown.
“The shock was rather intense.”
Holy fuck.
My gut churns, but I push the feeling aside.
“I need to see her,” I growl.
Wilkes stands.
“If I may, Mr. Blackthorn, I advise you to take a few days to think about this. Consult a few outside attorneys to look into this matter, if you wish. But please treat it seriously.”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” I snap. “This is my whole future. I don’t appreciate the implication that I won’t give it due diligence.”
“I just mean this is an unusual and stressful predicament for everyone involved.” Miss Wilkes rises to her feet. “My hope is, after you’ve given Miss Sage ample time to process, you’ll approach her with empathy. For her sake and yours.”
Empathy?
I almost laugh in her face.
Sure, Jackie Wilkes is concerned about Hattie because she apparently has the constitution of a hummingbird or some shit. But I’m the guy being asked to marry my sister’s second shadow.
Hattie damn Sage.
What does she even look like now?
Is she still a book nerd who won’t wear anything less revealing than a full grandma bathing suit?
Is she more than a fragment from a nightmare I vowed to forget?
Oh, I’ll give her empathy, all right.
But first I need to see her face-to-face.
3
ALL THE LEVERAGE (HATTIE)
What. Is. Happening?
Those are the only words floating around my brain as I slump down on my couch. Margot crouches in front of me, flicking the pages of one of my old books under my nose.
Old book smell.
Sweet Jesus.
Better than smelling salts for sweeping the shock from your brain.
If I was born in one of those Regency romance novels I pretend I don’t love, I’d totally be one of those bookish wallflowers.
Actually, maybe the truth isn’t so far from that. Arranged marriages happened in those times, too, right?
Where someone older and richer and more powerful just decided your whole future and the poor heroine had no choice but to go along with it.
I have a choice, though.
I need to remember that.
Inhaling sharply, I try to think of something more coherent than oh God, oh God, oh God.
Not easy.
Marry Ethan?
Being asked to marry anyone on a whim would be bad enough, but when it’s Ethan fricking Blackthorn?
“Keep breathing,” Margot urges gently.
Excellent advice, really.
I take one of the books, which is an old leather-bound copy of Pride and Prejudice—how fitting—and inhale again.
At least my lungs work.
Now I just need to flog my mind back on track.
My bestie looks down with worried blue eyes. She touches my arm.
“Will it help if you drink something? Water? Tea? Hot chocolate?”
I struggle up into a sitting position.
“It’s my place, Margot,” I point out. “I can get my own drink.”
There’s no way I’m letting her look after me when it’s her granddad who died. I’m supposed to be the one comforting her.
Ugh.
Margot rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but I’ve been here often enough. I know where everything is.”
“It’s fine, I can—” My vision blurs.
I double over.
“Hattie, sit down!” She grabs my arms and wrestles me back on the seat. “You’ve just had a crazy shock.”
“I’m good, no worries.”
“Hattie.” She folds her arms. “You looked lifeless a second ago. Whiter than paper.”
“Well, maybe a glass of water. Then I’ll be fine.”