The North Hold sitting room is ostentatious and far too warm for the heavy coat I’m wearing. The servant who answered the door offered to take it three times in the short walk from the front door to this room, but I don’t plan to stay long.
Now I wish I had just let him have it. Sweat rises on my lower back, and my heart pounds. As I strain to hear any hint of movement in the large manor, I realize it’s not just the heat of the fire that has me sweating. I’m nervous.
The servant who brought me into this room disappeared to find Rafe, but it’s not the mayor that I’m anxious about meeting. It’s my new sister-in-law.
If Aidia doesn’t like me, I have no doubt she will have a way to make sure Harlow knows it. And one veto from the person my wife loves most will be enough to wipe out all the progress I’ve made.
A set of wing-backed chairs stands in front of the fireplace, and a wolf-skin rug is laid out in front of the fire. The mantel and every other surface in the room are covered with crystal trinkets and blown-glass vases. The curtains are a heavy, dark brocade.
Everything about the design screams of wanting to appear wealthy, but the sheer volume of expensive objects counteracts the desired impression.
The walls are covered in art, including a large portrait of Rafe over the mantel. I search the numerous paintings for someone who resembles my wife. Maybe Aidia doesn’t look like her at all, but there’s such a strong resemblance between the rest of the siblings, I have to assume. If there was even a hint of a personal touch in Carrenwell House, I would know, but Harlow’s parents prefer a more sterile, museum-like environment.
I walk farther into the room, scanning the artwork. Finally, at the very corner of the wall, by the windows, I find a small portrait. The woman looks like Harlow, with the same dark hair and full lips, but there’s an intensity in her eyes that is more severe.
Rafe keeps her as tucked away in this room as he does in the rest of his life. I don’t know how Harlow bears knowing that her sister is here and suffering. If it were Holly in this situation, I would have ripped the man’s throat out.
I look around the room and consider Harlow’s theory. Could Rafe Mattingly really be both the mayor and the leader of the rebellion without anyone knowing? Harlow is too biased against the man to be a reliable source. I can understand why, but I have to get a feel for him myself.
That’s why I didn’t just leave word with the servant who answered the door moments ago. That and I’d like to actually meet Aidia Carrenwell since she’s the one person Harlow respects.
I think about the way Harlow took in that spectacle earlier today. She didn’t get reassurance from her family’s words. She assessed what had happened the previous night based on their actions, which in itself was telling. It’s clear she has a lot of experience reading nonverbal cues.
Footsteps sound in the hall, and a moment later, a man appears in the doorway to the sitting room. He’s dressed in an elegant suit, his hair perfectly combed. “Welcome to North Hold, Mr. Havenwood. I’m Mr. Mattingly’s butler, Paul. How can I help you this evening?”
“I was hoping to personally extend an invitation to our post-wedding celebration dinner tomorrow. I know it’s late notice, but it would mean a lot to me and Harlow if we could have the whole family together.” I sound so awkward speaking this formally. I don’t want to be the brute these people think I am, and Iwasraised with proper manners, but the words still feel stiff.
“I’m afraid you’ve just missed Mr. Mattingly.”
I nod and look toward the sitting room door. “Is there anyone else I could formally deliver the invitation to? I’m just trying to do things right by my new wife.”
Paul smiles warmly. “I’m afraid not, but rest assured that I’ll make sure he gets your invitation as soon as he arrives home.” He hesitates and lowers his voice. “You might be able to catch him later out and about, but right now, Mr. Mattingly is stopping to visit the unblessed prisoners in lockup.”
“Oh? Is that a thing he does often?”
The butler nods fervently. “Seems it happens at least once a week now with so many of them protesting the double blood well tithes.”
“It’s thoughtful of him to visit,” I say.
Paul presses a hand to his heart. “He cares deeply about this community. There’s never a day when he isn’t worrying. He brings many of them bread and also delivers funds to the incarcerated families so they can survive in the meantime.”
Now that is interesting. Rafe is friendly to blood tithe dissenters and their families. He’s doing anything he can for loyalty, but also, a man like Rafe Mattingly would have the access to come and go freely from lockup. He’s clearly used it as a way to ingratiate himself with people in dire circumstances—and that makes me loathe him more.
Paul looks at me expectantly.
“That’s very generous of him,” I say, a beat too late. “I’m disappointed I missed him, but I’m sure Harlow will understand.”
Paul hesitates a moment. “Well, he has a meeting at the Living Nightmare after his lockup visit. It’s a bar in the northeast quadrant. You might be able to catch him there in an hour or so.”
Forcing my warmest smile, I thank him and turn to go. I cast one last look toward the door, hoping to catch a glimpse of my new sister-in-law, but there’s no one coming. Rafe must have her locked away for the night. If she’s anything like her sister, I almost understand the desire to contain her, but if everything Harlow says is true, I’d appreciate Aidia’s wanting to get out.
I owe the woman no loyalty, just like I owe Harlow none, but it still grates on me that she’s stuck here with an abuser and Harlow is the onlyone doing anything to try to get her out. What kind of family would expect such loyalty?
I sigh. The same kind that would send another daughter off with the family they tried to wipe out ten years ago.
I rub a hand over the back of my neck. How I feel is irrelevant. I just need to deliver this message to Rafe or at least make my best attempt so I can go back to South Hold and tell them I tried.
Two hours of waiting at Living Nightmare has yielded me nothing but a mild buzz and a ringing in my ears from the boisterous music.
