Chapter 18

The big day had finally arrived. Nervousness was growing in the castle as the hours elapsed. Tables with white tablecloth had been settled in the garden, as well as a platform for the little orchestra that would accompany the meal. Some tents had been anticipated all around in case the sun decided to let them down. Weather was so changeable in England!

The Duke was watching the last preparations carefully. Everything had to be perfect. Though it was just an engagement, he wanted a real ceremony. His son had made the choice not to marry on his ancestors' land, but he could offer him a beautiful feast, surrounded by the most noble and aristocratic. It was his own way to definitively recognize him as his legitimate son, which might lead to some teeth gnashing but he didn't care. The Duke of Grandchester was accountable to no one! It was precisely the message he had relayed to his spouse, Beatrix, who was fiercely resisting when it was about Terry. He remained for her this bastard she had been forced to accept and bear for many years, that child rebellious to any discipline who looked at her with the eyes of the one her husband had never ceased loving. Each time he approached her, she would feel a fierce jealousy and would chase him violently to have him out of her sight and her mind. It was her who had tried to send him to a boarding school when he reached six years old, but the Duke had refused categorically. Nevertheless she had finally achieved her aims when he was ten years old, proposing Gordonstoun School, in north-east Scotland, with the simple reason that some crowned heads had studied there. The Duke had clearly understood that if she had been able to send him to Lapland, her choice would have been that one. She wanted so badly to send Terry away from his family. This is why he had proposed Saint Paul Academy which was not very far from London and would allow him to visit his son whenever he wanted to. Their relationship were still tense but he had preferred, Terry asserting himself more and more, to keep him close to him and look after him. They had had many arguments and many clashes, but he was very proud of his son who had made his own way, built a carrier that everyone admired, and was loved by this delightful blonde who had brought joy all over the house. He was even now used to Cookie's presence and to his keen and subtle mind, to his sarcastic humour that reflected the distance he had about life and people. Nothing impressed him, Beatrix even less who avoided him like the plague. She had not had dinner with them since her return, pretexting each time and headache or an extreme fatigue. Only Sybil dared to appear, but her hurtful remarks were always unable to cross the ironic barrier that Cookie had put up to her, so concerned he was to defend Candy and Terry.

The Duke however remained alerted regarding his spouse's behaviour. That latter had grandiloquently told him that she would not be part of this masquerade, which came down to wondering why she had come back to the family estate while she could have stayed comfortably in Bath. But he knew the reason why: it simply was for spiting him, for defying him as always, but this time, he did not intend to give in for peace of mind, and it was very threatening that he had declared:

- I do not ask but want your presence on this engagement day. For the moment when the first guest puts a foot in the alley, I want you there to welcome him. And don't get me wrong. I'm quite prepared to come and pull you out from your bed and to drag you in your nightgown in front of everybody. I would be very sorry, but you would be even sorrier!

With this, he had coldly greeted her then had left, leaving her mute of puzzlement and trembling of rage. His threat seemed to have been successful since on his way back to the castle, he saw her walking towards him, dressed with all her finery.

- Does this outfit match with your expectations, my dear?... – she said ironically, looking at him insolently.

- I don't care, honestly… - he retorted with a deep indifferent look – As long as you just stick to the role you've been given, the perfect hostess's one. Moreover, it would be wise you start watching out for our guests' arrival that won't be long now. Terrence is already in the courtyard, ready to welcome them…

- But… Why should I wait with him?

- Perhaps you would prefer Candy joins him? It would be a pity that the fortune in jewels you are exhibiting gets eclipsed by the simplicity of a young and pretty American girl…

Offended, she wanted to fight back, but he had already turned his heels, his shoulders shaking mockingly. Fuming, she stayed motionless for a few seconds, time for her to recover her calm, then she resigned herself to going to the entry where was standing, as agreed, the Grandchester's heir. He cut a nice figure in his beautiful suit, his hands behind his back, thoughtful. If he had not this other woman's eyes, she would have easily found a real resemblance with the Richard of her youth. She had loved him so much, and he had given it back to her so badly! Even today, he had just humiliated her with his hurting words that he had hit without any sensitivity, while imposing her his bastard's presence and this sumptuous feast to celebrate his future union with this parvenu without any education, who certainly was not better than the other one, the actress! What could have those American women that the English ones did not have to be able to hold them? It could not be that country accent and their bad manners!... Perhaps they wanted to slum with some lower-class, but this did not explain this attraction towards this kind of women neither this need to be seen with! Regarding Terrence, well, he was half-American by his mother and as a result, was contaminated by her genes. Fortunately, her own children did not suffer this defect. She could be proud of her line! – She thought while disdainfully observing that youthful indiscretion, his back turned to her. That latter noticed then her presence and she could not hold a pout of annoyance. His penetrating gaze met hers and to the odd way he looked at her, she had the unpleasant feeling that he could read her thoughts. Thrilling with disgust, she said to him, hiding painfully her embarrassment:

- No kindness intended, young man. I am just following your father's orders…

- I'm sorry to hear that…

- Not as much as me, but sometimes, you must look good even in the worst situations…

- On this regard, I cannot but agree with you, Beatrix. But rest assured, there is no better torture than the importance that is attached to it, and personally, it means nothing to me.

- I'm afraid I do not understand, Terrence… - she said, frowning.

He turned frankly to her, an amused smile at the corner of his lips.

- Come on, Beatrix, let's stop playing the hypocrite. We both know that we hate each other. I've grown accustomed to your contempt for my own and it's been a while since I've stopped being hurt by it. Being my father's spouse do not mean anything to me, it's just a title, a signature on a contract, and under no circumstances it can be a moral obligation. If it were up to me, I would not pay any attention to you because I don't really care about you. Nevertheless…

This time, the mocking smile he gave her vanished to give place to a frozen glance, threatening, that made her move backward.

- Nevertheless – he followed – I will not be indifferent to the least attempt of yours to hurt the woman I love.

- Come on, Terrence, what are you insinuating? You have a very ill opinion of me… - she babbled, avoiding his gaze fixed to hers.

- On the contrary, dear "mother"! I know you so well! And I know from experience what you are capable of! If for once, you would accept what you are in front of me, you would be a notch below the scale of your mediocrity. You are an evil woman, Beatrix. I could use many other adjectives to describe you, but that of evil summarizes perfectly what you are. You are of those despicable beings who do not hesitate to take revenge for their bitterness and their frustrations on weaker people, and specially in your case, on a little boy that you tormented and abused for many years. You are ugly inside and if you looked at you carefully in the mirror, you would see clearly the reflection of your soul's ugliness!

The duchess of Grandchester staggered, gasping on emotion. How could he talk to her that way, him, this little bastard she had welcomed (under pressure to be honest) and beard for more than ten years?! Ten years of daily humiliation that she had to suffer under the patronizing gaze of her fellow women who pretended to ignore it. The whole Gotha knew the origins of her husband's son but no one talked about it, at least in front of her. They must have laughed so much behind her, even more now since he had become an American star and that his tramp mother had officially acknowledged him!

Overwhelmed by rage, she raised her hand towards him in order to slap him, hand that he held in its swing before it fell on his cheek.

- Control yourself, Stepmom! – He said between his teeth as he smiled widely – The maids are watching us…

He was squeezing her hand so hard that she let out a cry of pain. He let it go in return with a pout of contempt, leaving her furious and trembling, pretending to ignore the embarrassed gaze of her servants that were going back and forth from the garden.

- You are dangerous, Terrence!.. – She mumbled, discreetly rubbing her hand.

- Your point is quite right indeed, Beatrix. I'm glad to see that you finally understand it!

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carson coming towards them and she froze, convinced that he had witnessed the whole scene. His impassive air did not let guess anything, but she avoided his look, fearing to detect some approbation for knowing the complicity between the two men.

- Ah, you've just come in time, Carson! – Terry exclaimed when seeing him – Could you bring a glass of water for her ladyship. She does not feel very well…

- Please, don't, my friend, especially since I see a car coming up at the end of the road… - she did, clearing her throat with embarrassment. Her figure stood up straight when she recognized the vehicle. The blemish features of her face changed into a strange smile that called out the young duke. The car stopped finally in front of us and an elegant young man came out, whose long figure reminded that of another older young man.

- Rodolphe! – Beatrix cried out, painfully dissimulating her relief – You've no idea how happy I am to see you again!

- Well, mother, you're talking as if we had not seen each other for many years! – The young man answered as he took her hand to kiss it – You look so pale. Are you all right?

- As long as you are here, everything is much better…

Rodolphe turned then toward Terry who was examining him with curiosity. His little brother had changed a lot! At the time, he almost felt troubled by this reunion, but when he met his gaze in which shined the malicious glint of his true nature, malice for which he had suffered a lot during his childhood, he tensed, clenching his jaw, ready to leap on him.

- Terrence… - said Rodolphe, holding to him a hand oozing with hypocrisy.

- Rodolphe… - Terry answered, shaking it in return.

- I would not have bet a penny that you would come back here one day! – The arrogant stepbrother chuckled – Life is definitely full of surprises!

- Unfortunately, some of them are endowed with thorns…

- Hahaha, Terry! I had forgotten how funny you could be! If there is one quality that I can't deny you, it is this dry humour that you use perfectly.

- Our family is a great source of inspiration…

Rodolphe's head tilted backward in a great burst of laugher.

- Definitely, you'll always make me laugh, Terry!

- This time, not at my expense, believe me…

The young brother, getting the allusion, shortened his enthusiasm by a little embarrassed laugh. To Terry's eloquent look, he understood that that latter had not forgotten those years in the castle, paced with the bullying that him and his sister used to inflict to him. For his part, he had only kept about this some vague memories, some insignificant cruel jokes… To be true, they were just children and as everyone knows, children can be sometimes heartless with others… A heavy silence settled between both young men.

- Do you want me to send your baggage up to your bedroom, my Lord? – Carson interrupted them, concerned about making warmer the freezing temperature surrounding them.

- Please, do, Carson, thank you! – Rodolphe answered, without much conviction, getting more and more embarrassed by his brother's scrutinizing glance on him. Suddenly, flanked by a renewed interest for his illustrious mother and falsely frowning with concern, he moved towards her and took her hands between his.

- You really look very pale, mother. Let me take you up to your bedroom. Some rest will be good to you before the guests' arrival…

- Is it really necessary? – She said with a little voice – I promised your father I would be there to welcome them.

- I'm sure Terrence will manage like a champion!

- Please, Stepmother. Go and have some "rest". You have my blessing… - Terry did with a knowing pout, painfully hiding his relief to see them going far from him. Mother and son did not need to be asked twice and quickly disappeared inside the castle. How long this day was going to be with such odious people! Fortunately, they would be melted with the mass of guests and he would be able to avoid them easily. He could not wait to have everybody there. He would be then able to join Candy who was probably getting ready. The day before, she had received her engagement gown made by one of the greatest fashion designer of London. He had not had the right to see it but he knew already that whatever it was, it would suit her divinely.

Another car showed up at the end of the path, followed by another one. Terry rose up, nervously squeezing his fist. Carson came closer, his hands behind his back.

- My sight is not perfect but I think that the priest's car is approaching followed by the Crawley's… - he said with a quiet tone that was meant to be soothing, guessing how stressed the young duke was.

- Would you mind terribly, Carson, if you stayed with me? – Asked then Terry, looking anxious – I've almost forgotten the name of all these people…

- I would be glad to assist you, my Lord…

- Thank you, Carson. You are a real… friend…

Carson felt his heart leaping up in his chest and a comforting warmth possessed him. His eyes half closed with contentment and he discreetly bounced on his big feet, savouring inside this private moment with his protégée…

- That fool Terry is definitely as insufferable as he ever was! – Cried out Rodolphe as they were climbing the stairs leading to the bedrooms.

- I could not agree more, unfortunately! – His mother answered, leaning on the trail – I can't believe I had to bear his superior airs for three days. I can't wait this comedy is over and he goes back to America with his nurse!

Before her son's disconcerted gaze, she perfidiously added:

- That's right, it's only in America that rich women prefer to work!...

- Well… - he laughed – but… Tell me, what's she like? I've heard about her family, but I've no idea what she looks like.

- Oh… She is blonde, small. Quite ordinary!...

- Well, I thought Terry had highest beauty standards!

- What did you expect? He's just wearing half of your blood, and he has not inherited its quality!...

Going on with their gossips, they arrived to the first floor and followed the long dark corridor to Beatrix's room. They had barely arrived in front of the door that Rodolphe had already placed his feet on the move. Having diligently done the job, he wanted now to shorten the separation. On this festive day, there had to be a bottle of champagne waiting to be honoured by the socialite alcoholic he was! But at the time when his mother turned the doorknob, the crude daylight coming from another room at the other side of the corridor captured his curiosity. An extraordinarily beautiful creature, wearing a long yellow silk crepe dress came out from it. She walked towards them, the meters that separated them reducing, progressively revealing the perfection of her features. She stopped in front of the stairs and with a gracious gesture, passed a lock of hair behind her ear. Her emerald gaze ingenuously met Rodolphe's, creating in him a stream of crazy and confuse thoughts. He painfully gasped, his eyes wide opened staring at the heavenly vision that was about to down the stairs.

- Wh… Who is she? – He stammered, emotion leaving him breathless.

- It's Candy. Candice White Andrew. Your brother's fiancée… - Answered Beatrix with a grin.

He remained few seconds dumbfounded by the news, trying to recover from the trouble that Candy had just provoked in him. But he couldn't, as if his retina had burned with her light, leaving her indelible print, ready to haunt his days and nights.

- This… This so-called ugly girl is Terry's fiancée? – He groaned through his teeth, giving a sickened glance to his mother. She opined, surprise by the strangeness of his reaction. What she read in his eyes dreadfully paralyzed her: a muffled rage, contained, combined with an ardent covetousness that inflated his throat reddening to scarlet and threatening to blow up.

- Are you all right, Rodolphe? – She asked with concern.

- I couldn't be better, mother… - he lied while staring hungrily at Candy, who was walking away from his sight. It was not the time for him to lose her, particularly since his stupid brother was busy outside. It was the perfect opportunity to get introduced to her!

He passed a trembling hand in his hair, rectified his jacket and abandoned his mother without further ado. Bloated with complacency, he hurried towards the object of his desire, with the fierce ambition to discover all its mysteries…

End of chapter 18