“Lucian, you know I’m not one to beat around the bush, so I’m just going to get right to the point of this meeting.” My father has a way of setting my nerves on edge with his honesty, and today will be no exception. “Did you fuck Amelia?”
A bolt of shock pierces my chest, squeezing my lungs, and I sit forward to cough. “I’m sorry, what?” I try not to look at Boyd, whose glare is practically burning a hole in the side of my head right now. The last time I touched the girl was the night of my party, holed up in the cleaning closet, and I haven’t had the inclination to go near her since. “I mean, we fooled around. A little.”
“Did the two of you have sex?”
“It’s … not what …” I swallow a harsh gulp and glance to the side, catching sight of Boyd’s stern brows and unamused expression. “I wouldn’t call it sex, really.”
“’Fucks sakes, boy. Did you stick your dick inside her?” My father’s questions have my hands sweating.
“For a couple minutes, I guess. Yeah.”
Rolling his eyes, my father groans.
“Why are you asking me this?” Shifting my attention between Boyd, whose flat lips and balled hands are a pretty good sign he wants to kill me, and my father who slouches in his chair, rubbing a hand down his face, I don’t know whether to duck or run. “It was completely consensual between us. She wanted it as much--”
“She’s pregnant, Lucian.” My father’s words punch my gut, and I clutch my stomach as bile shoots up my throat.
“Pregnant?” The back of my hand muffles the question, as I try to hold back the torrent of vomit itching to break free. “I didn’t even … I wore a condom. And I never …”
“Condoms break. Surely your prestigious education has taught you something on sex ed.” The ire in Boyd’s voice confirms what I already suspected--the man would probably try to kill me, if my father weren’t sitting across from him right now.
“Are you sure it’s …” I know the answer to this, though. Amelia hasn’t left the Manor since the night of the party, a month ago. As terrifying as it may be, I am the most probable suspect.
“Come on now, boy.” My father swipes up the glass of liquor on the desk in front of him and guzzles what’s left of it. “If that girl pined any harder for you, her feet would be stuck in the dirt, with roots coming out of her ass.”
Boyd clears his throat, rolling his shoulders back. “Kindly bear in mind this is my only daughter.”
“The Boyds are Catholic, as you know. It’s not their way to terminate a pregnancy, or get knocked up out of wedlock, for that matter.” Tapping his finger on the desktop, my father stares off for a moment, seeming to chew on his lips. “You’re going to marry her.”
Another punch to the gut. This one harder, the pain of it shooting up into my ribcage. “What? No. I can’t.”
“You have no choice, Lucian. You got yourself into this mess.”
“I’ll be there for her. I’ll raise the child. Ensure that it never wants for anything, but I cannot marry her.”
“You can desecrate her, though? Put your filth inside her?” Boyd speaks through gritted teeth, his anger burgeoning before my eyes.
“It doesn’t work that way, Son. Mayor Boyd has a reputation to uphold. How do you think it looks if his only daughter is pregnant, without a husband?”
I don’t care how the fuck it looks. It’s my life he’s looking to muddle, and it’s not like she didn’t have a say in what we did that night. “This isn’t the seventeenth century. Women get pregnant and have children, without marriage, all the time.”
Cheeks puffed, my father lets out a long, dramatic exhale. “The decision has been made. You’ll marry Amelia Boyd, and that’s final.”
Chapter 34
Isadora
Nearly two weeks have passed since the incident with my mother and the drug dealer. I’ve texted Aunt Midge every day, twice sometimes, to see how she’s doing. If she’s heard anything. Seen anything. Gotten a sense that he might come back.
Everything has been quiet.
Lucian hasn’t said a word to me since I braved barging into his office to thank him. We pass each other in the hallway sometimes, but it’s like two ships passing on a placid sea. Not a word spoken between us. I’ve caught him watching me a few times, when I’ve been out in the garden,