Forbidden French
: Part 2 – Chapter 24

“Okay, I give up trying to guess. What’s going on?” my brother asks.

I don’t pay him any attention. It’s easy enough to ignore him while we stand side by side at the fundraiser.

“Earth to Asshole. Come in, Asshole.”

I almost laugh. Clearly, Alexander has endured enough of my gruff mood in the last half hour.

I turn to him with a harsh glare. “Are you really asking me what’s wrong?”

He balks. “What? Jesus, I just got to New York this afternoon—how have I already messed up? Or wait…is this work shit? Did I miss some email? Forget to Zoom in on a conference call? Is it really that big of a deal?”

The fact that he’s having to ask me this pinpoints my exact frustration. He’s the irresponsible one. He should be in my position, shackled to a future he doesn’t want.

“Don’t you have Google Alerts set for the family?”

He looks disgusted by the idea. “No. Why would I want to do that? My phone would be dinging every five seconds.”

He takes a sip of his drink as I casually reply, “Yes, well, it would save me the trouble of having to let you know I’m engaged.”

He chokes and then starts to hack. I glower at him as I wipe away the few drops of his spittle that managed to land on my tuxedo jacket.

“You’re fucking kidding, right?”

I don’t answer.

“Did you… I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, his eyes taking on a newfound focus. “Have you been dating someone and I didn’t know about it?” He doesn’t even let me answer his first question before he’s on to his second and third. “Wait, who is it? Does Father know?”

“He arranged the entire thing,” I say with a bitterly twisted smile.

His eyes widen in horror. “What?”

“Oh yes. You thought he was going to allow me to choose my wife? No. That’s apparently been done for me. I’d watch your back—you’re likely next.”

“Fuck no.”

I chuckle. “Yes, that’s what I said too.”

“Tell him you won’t go through with it. Tell him it’s bullshit.”

“Do you honestly think I haven’t tried that?”

“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath as he tugs his hand through his hair, pulling at the ends. “And who is it? Do you even know the girl?”

“It’s Lainey Davenport.”

His eyes widen in shock. “You’re kidding! Does she know?!”

“Of course. She helped orchestrate it with her grandmother.”

“Lainey?” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Yes, yes. The shy quiet mouse from St. John’s is actually whip-smart and cunning. What a shock.”

“Will she be here tonight?”

“She’s already arrived.”

She got here before me. I walked into the packed ballroom and spotted her right away. For once she wasn’t playing the wallflower act. She was entertaining a group of people, all eyes on her as she spoke.

I’ve kept a careful watch on her. She hasn’t looked at me once, but I’ve had her location pegged this entire time. Now, she’s only a few tables away, talking to a man I don’t recognize.

Her rich dark hair is swept up off her neck, though a few tempting strands spill out of her up-do. She wears nothing around her neck and only small diamond studs in her ears. I’m all too aware of the allure of her décolletage, the subtle shadows beneath her collarbones, the small hint of cleavage, erring on the daring side, especially for her. She has a small emerald ring on her right hand and her left ring finger is bare, as it will remain.

I take her in with fresh eyes, casting aside her beauty as a mere mask for her true nature.

Alexander sees me staring, swears under his breath, and walks away with a shake of his head. It’s only a matter of seconds before Miranda takes his spot. I haven’t seen her in weeks and don’t particularly want company, but she comes bearing a gift. The Jack and Coke she offers me is a welcome sight.

“So that’s her?” she asks, nodding toward Lainey.

I don’t answer.

If she knows to ask, she must have seen the news reports today. She doesn’t need my confirmation.

“It’s a sham, isn’t it? A pretend engagement?”

I sigh heavily, not wanting to go down this road. Though Miranda and I are just friends, she’s accompanied me to a few recent events, the ballet included. She knows damn well I haven’t been carrying on a secret love affair with Lainey like the media has suggested.

Still, she presses for more.

“She’s smaller in real life,” she notes. “Childlike.”

I almost roll my eyes. “Don’t let her size fool you.”

She hums. “Beautiful, though. The photos I’ve seen hardly do her justice. I guess your father could have done worse in that respect. Maybe you should thank him.”

“It was intentional on his part. I’m sure he wants pretty grandchildren. He’s not one to leave something like that up to chance.”

Miranda laughs. “Oh, look at her. She’s really enjoying herself. So lovely. Maybe you should go say hi.”

I tip back most of the contents of my drink, already in need of another.

Miranda watches me and shakes her head. “Oof, you’re really angry with her. Does she know?”

I turn my back on Lainey and peer down at Miranda. “Why are you here? Did you sneak in?”

She’s not an alumnus of St. John’s.

She winks. “Maybe.”

Then Harrison crashes our conversation holding a plate overflowing with shrimp. He tosses a clumsy arm over Miranda’s shoulders. “There’s my hot date.”

She barely restrains herself. “Harrison, you’re about to spill cocktail sauce all over my dress,” she whines, elbowing him in the side.

He laughs and lets her pull away. “Aw, don’t be like that.”

Interesting. I know full well that Miranda isn’t interested in Harrison. Her tastes are a little more refined than that. She’s made it clear for the last few years that she’d accept a date if only I’d ask, but I won’t.

Miranda is pretty and sophisticated and much like every other woman I’ve ever met. There is nothing necessarily bad about her, but nothing quite so memorable either. Or perhaps I’m being harsh because I’m in a foul mood. I look over at Lainey again, helpless to stop myself. I want to know what she’s calculating, how she can possibly stand there with such a wide smile on her face and play it off like she’s not the most evil person in the room.

She takes a small sip of her champagne, her lips barely touching the edge. The man she’s standing with watches her with rapt attention, no doubt imagining her lips wrapping around something else entirely.

“What’s got Emmett’s panties in a wad?” Harrison asks.

I don’t bother answering. I walk away, cutting a path around tables until I’m in Lainey’s line of sight. She sees me over her companion’s shoulder, and I watch her swallow down a gulp as if suddenly nervous.

Oh no, Lainey. No sense in playing meek on me now.

“And I replace the Old Master auctions far more interesting than the evening sales, but they’re obviously much less frequent. Have you managed to attend—”

“I’d like a word with my fiancée,” I say, cutting the man off.

His sentence dies as he turns toward me with a look of wide-eyed confusion.

“Excuse me, I’m—”

“Go. Away.” I bite out the words as I lean toward him ever so slightly, just so there can be no mistaking my tone.

He blinks, blinks, blinks like a fucking idiot before he finally gets it. He stammers a quick goodbye to Lainey and then he’s gone.

I stand before her and take her in, completely unable to look past my anger. For what it’s worth, she meets my glowering with bold confidence and a defiant set to her demure features.

“You look stunning.” Though it doesn’t sound like a compliment.

Her expression hardens. “Did you scare that man away just to tell me that?”

“Of course not. Don’t you think we should talk, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call me that.”

The edge of my lips tips up. I’m enjoying this already.

“What pet name would you like then? Petite souris?”

A flicker of pain is chased away by fury. She takes a step toward me so she has to look up to meet my eyes.

“If you intend to embarrass me here, in public, I won’t allow it. Save your childish games for somewhere else.”

“Not here? All right. Where should I take you?” My voice drips with cruel innuendo.

She’s had enough. She tries to cut past me, but my hand catches her arm, forcing her to stay put. I tsk in a mocking French way, and I know for certain if we weren’t in public, her palm would have already made contact with my cheek. She’s flushed with anger, and it’s only fitting that now we’re even.

My grip doesn’t loosen on her arm. I’m not yet convinced she won’t flee if given the chance.

“I’m assuming you saw the news today. Did they include everything you hoped they would?”

Her jaw clenches.

“Those were lovely photos your grandmother provided. Did you two pick them together? Carefully deciding which ones would paint you in the best light? Everyone seems to have fallen in love with you already. We’re the pairing of the year, it seems.”

My tone drips with sarcasm, and yet still, her expression softens. “Is it really so bad?”

The fragility in her voice is enough to enrage me.

“Don’t,” I warn.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Her big green eyes start to well with sadness.

I don’t know why she’s upset. She has everything she wants. Except me.

I won’t allow it.

I finally let go of her, wishing I could cast her away altogether and be done with it. “Save your apologies, Lainey. I don’t want them.”

Her gaze turns pleading. “I’m as helpless in all of this as you are.”

“You aren’t,” I snap.

“What have I done that’s so wrong?” she cries. “How have you managed to spin this to make me the villain? I won’t go against my grandmother’s wishes, Emmett. I’m merely doing as she asks of me. Don’t you understand?”

“Don’t I understand?” My temper is threatening to do me in. “Who better understands your situation than me? You think you’re the only one having to bend to a dictator? Try growing up with my father.”

She has nothing to say to that, and so we stand there, breathing heavily, our gazes locked in a silent standoff. I can feel my temper rising like a great wave. I’m so close to surrendering to this anger once and for all.

Lainey doesn’t flee. She has no good sense at all. If she did, she never would have betrayed me like this in the first place.

I tuck my hands into my pockets and take a step back, placing a purposeful distance between us. “So then we’ve reached an impasse.”

“I suppose so,” she says, briefly looking out into the crowd as if trying to keep herself from getting more emotional.

“You know I was wrong about you, Lainey. The courage I thought I saw in you…it doesn’t exist.”

She chuckles sadly under her breath, but there’s an unyielding hardness to it, to her, as she looks back at me with rage.

“Oh, really? I’m the weak one? I’m standing up to you right now, aren’t I? I’m holding my ground when you seem intent on intimidating me, punishing me as if you’re judge, jury, and executioner.” She steps forward and presses her finger hard against my chest as she continues with unrestrained fury. “I’ve worked my entire life to pay for my mother’s mistakes, to remind my grandmother of the good inside me. I won’t mess this up. If you’re set on getting out of the engagement, get out of it—but stop blaming me. You’re delusional if you think you don’t deserve this punishment as much as I do. You toyed with me in Italy knowing full well it would push Royce away. Do you think people are playthings? Did you think there would be no consequences? I don’t feel bad for you, Emmett.”

“This entire thing is a sham.”

She shrugs, unbothered by the notion.

“Then let it be,” she challenges. “You’re French—act like it. Surround yourself with a bevy of blondes like the one I just saw you with and forget I exist.”

“With pleasure.”

Her mouth opens in shock as if I’ve finally succeeded in deeply wounding her.

Fuck.

I almost reach out to take ahold of her again. I lift my hand, but she’s turning away, moving back into the crowd, leaving me like I’m not her husband-to-be, like she doesn’t belong to me. There’s no way to see past my anger. I can’t get out of my own way. She’s in cahoots with my father and her grandmother, and that betrayal cuts deep. She’s chosen her side and I’ll choose mine.

War is a bloody thing, Lainey. I hope you’re prepared.