Betrayal (Infidelity Book 1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,9
the cavalry until tomorrow. Charli with an i has some life to discover. I’m not the type of sister to put her on a time clock. There’s no magic pumpkin or glass slipper. Charli will be here all week. The stroke of midnight will have no bearing.”
“ALEXANDRIA!”
Alex, I silently corrected.
My mother’s greeting echoed through the enormous foyer as she stepped quickly from the sitting room. Her high heels clicking across the floor as she made her way toward me, arms open wide.
The brief pleasure I felt at seeing her evaporated as soon as Alton turned the corner only a few steps behind her. Of course he’d be on her heels. Heaven forbid that I’d have even a few seconds alone with my mother outside of his earshot.
“Mom,” I murmured against her shoulder as she wrapped me in her arms.
Almost immediately, she stiffened and held me at arm’s length. “Look at you. Are you ill? You look pale. I thought you were supposed to be resting before moving to New York. It’s that horrid girl, isn’t it? What does she have you doing?”
“Alexandria.” Alton’s icy tone sent a chill through the air.
Ignoring him, I kept my gaze focused on my mother. “I’m fine. I’m just tired, that’s all. I’ve been flying most of the day.”
“My dear, that’s why you should have flown privately and not commercial, all those layovers are ridiculous. You should rest, but first we can eat. I had Martha hold dinner.”
The idea of sitting in the dining room with my mother and Alton made any possible twinge of hunger evaporate. “Really, Mom, I’d like to settle whatever business you deemed so important it warranted my immediate trip to Savannah. Then I’d like to go.”
“Go?” Her perfectly painted face scrunched as her eyes narrowed. I wasn’t sure how many appointments she’d had with her plastic surgeon, but I wondered if her skin could be pulled any tighter. “Nonsense. Brantley! Brantley!”
“Yes, madam.”
It was an amazing feat that all well-instructed house staff possessed. They could materialize out of thin air. One moment, they weren’t there, and you were alone. The next, they’re beside you. If they were truly well-trained and well-paid, they also had the ability to be blind and mute to their surroundings. The employees of Montague Manor were among the best-trained staff on the face of the earth.
“Where are Alexandria’s bags? Have you taken them to her room?”
“Madam—”
“Mother, I asked Brantley to leave them in the car. I was hoping that we could conclude this family meeting and I could be back in the air. There’s a flight scheduled—”
“Brantley,” Alton’s voice superseded our discussion. “Retrieve Miss Collin’s bags and put them in her room. You may retire the car for the evening. We won’t be leaving the property.”
Though my neck straightened in defiance, my lips remained still, glued together by experience. Just like that, Alton had declared the future and sentenced me to prison behind the gates of Montague Manor.
Mother reached for Alton’s hand and turned back to me. “Dear, have you said hello to your father?”
“No, my father is deceased. I hate to be the one to break the news to you.”
Alton’s glare narrowed while Adelaide did her best to make light of my comment. “Alexandria, you always did get cranky when you were tired. Now show Alton the respect he deserves.”
If only I truly could, but I was quite certain that my mother wasn’t speaking literally.
“Alton, hello. You can only imagine my disappointment when I learned that you wouldn’t be out of town on one of those meetings of yours this weekend.”
“And miss this family reunion? I wouldn’t think of it.”
My skin turned to ice as he reached out and patted my shoulder. Keeping his hand there, in a silent reminder of his dominance, he scanned me up and down. Slowly his beady eyes moved from my flat ballet-styled shoes, blue jeans, and top, to my hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t accept your mother’s offer of the private jet. I’m most certain they would’ve assumed you were the help. Then again, if you’d flown privately at least the entire world wouldn’t have seen you gallivanting around airports like some common…”
Mother’s glare stopped his assessment.
“Common twenty-something?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“Well, dear, you do look a little haggard. Why don’t you go up to your room and clean up? We’ll meet you in the dining room in fifteen minutes.”
I turned around for Brantley, ready to tell him to forget Alton Fitzgerald’s decree