All My Broken Dreams (Locksley Hall #1)

Chapter Thirty

R obbie blinked. The orgasm receded. She sat up slowly, pulling up her tights.

“Alastair wants me for Casey? I barely know him. How do you know this?”

“He told me.” Deacon moved to the window where he was lit by the glow from the Christmas tree. “After I attacked Casey, he told me why it mattered to him that I control myself, especially when you were around. He said I made Casey look weak in front of you and he has hopes for a union between the two of you. You had to see his son in his best light.”

Her flesh burned with fire. “And you didn’t raise any objections. You said you’d stand back and let it happen?”

“I’d stand back, yes. No one is forcing you to like him, but I’m not going to be an obstacle. Whatever happens is between you and Casey.” He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. “Don’t ask me to go against him, Robbie, because I won’t.”

Robbie rolled to her side, pulling the blanket over her legs. “Then I’m not going back there tonight. The whole arrangement makes me sick.”

“You don’t have a choice. You moved into the house. Alastair insists every student residing in Dugald Croft is present at the dinner table at eight p.m. sharp.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m not free to spend the evening the way I see fit?”

Deacon laughed. “Didn’t Penelope and Millicent explain the house rules to you? They do things the old way there. Dress for dinner, always use the correct fork, cloth napkins, classical music and four course meals with wine pairings. Everyone in attendance.”

“What if I want to grab a burger? I never would have agreed to move in if I’d known about that.”

“I wasn’t aware you had a choice.” He sat down beside her. “What else could you have done? You had no place to live. Mrs. Cameron told me she asked you to move out.”

“I could’ve gone back to New York. I still have some of my father’s money left. It’s not a lot, but it’d be enough for me to live on until I got my life figured out.”

“You can’t study at Locksley Hall from New York. You have the Stewart estate. You’re rich. If life at Dugald Croft gets to be too much, you can pack up and move anywhere you like.”

“It’s not that easy. The Stewart estate is in the hands of the solicitor. He’s going to hire a manager to take over. I’m not sure when I’ll see a penny of that money. I couldn’t understand half the stuff they gave me to sign. Casey said he’d help me.”

He leaned back and folded his hands over his chest. “Do you like Casey?”

She peered at him. “Are you asking because you’re genuinely interested or because Alastair is expecting a full report.”

Deacon’s eyes clouded. “That’s all done with. I told Alastair I’m finished with that business. He’s not the monster people think he is. He doesn’t force me to do anything I don’t want to do.”

“I wish I could believe that. He’s forcing you to send me home tonight.”

He gazed at her. “No, he’s not. I won’t go against him, Robbie. I won’t grieve him with disobedience anymore than you would grieve your father if he was alive today.”

Robbie thought this over. “Alastair has a son and he treats him like garbage. I can’t respect him for that reason alone. You asked me if I liked Casey and I do. I like what I have seen of him so far. He’s more sensitive than his father realizes. Alastair is horrible to him. It’s almost like he hates him at times.”

“Alastair doted on Harry. He was his first born son, the bastard he had with his lost love, Sarah Stewart. Casey is the despised runt; the legitimate offspring of a hated marriage. It’s not my cousin’s fault he’s unloved. If Harry hadn’t come along, Casey might have had a chance. I’m glad you like him. It makes it easier, knowing that you like him.”

Robbie leaned her head on his shoulder. “It doesn’t make it easier for me. Liking him doesn’t change anything. I still want to see you. In the lecture hall, when I was in the middle of the panic attack, you came up the stairs toward me. And as soon as I saw you, I knew I was safe. I think that no matter what Alastair wants, he can’t make me care less for you than I do for Casey.”

“It’s six o’clock,” Deacon said roughly. “Time enough to get you home.”

“No, I’m not going. I don’t want to. Don’t send me away.”

He made a noise of impatience. “Don’t send you away? And when I do as you ask, what then? One day, you’ll see me mopping the floor and you’ll walk right past me. You hate Alastair for being what he is and I love him for it. He’s never struck me like my father did, or made me feel worthless in front of a bunch of intellectuals. You did that, Robbie. Alastair has never claimed to like me only to ridicule me a few days later.”

Tears burned. She pressed her fingers to her eyes. “Stop it. I hate myself for that night. I hate what I said to you. But you’ve hurt me too, Deacon. I believed you. I trusted you and you used me. I spent a year of my life locked in my apartment, protecting myself against being used, being lied to, being betrayed. You nearly sent me back there.”

He took her hands to pull her to her feet. “Then I guess we’re even,” he conceded wearily. “Go on. There’s a toothbrush in the bathroom. I’ll make up the bed and give you something to sleep in. I’ll send Alastair a message that you’re spending the night.”

He got the duvet and pillows out of the cabinet.

“Are you sure about this?”

“No, but I can’t argue with you anymore. Go on.”

She did as he asked, being too tired and wrung out to talk anymore. Brushing her teeth and splashing hot water on her face was done without thinking, but she knew that every step they were taking tonight was building toward something that they wouldn’t be strong enough to resist.

Robbie dried her face on a towel, meeting her reflection in the mirror. “Do you think if we’d met in a normal way, you would have wanted to go out with me?”

“I think if we didn’t have such fucked up lives, we wouldn’t have met at all.”

The room was dark when she came out of the bathroom, except for the twinkling Christmas lights on the tree and the glowing fire. The bed was made up with an eiderdown duvet and a tartan blanket. Crisp white pillows were stacked against the backrest.

Deacon stood at the window staring at the falling snow. He was still fully dressed.

“I thought you were going to give me something to wear.”

He turned to face her and she knew something was wrong.

“They’re here.”

A moment later, a moment that hung between them in a long look that was filled with betrayal and loss, there was a knock on the door.

Without a word, Deacon moved to open it.

Casey Manderville was standing in the hall, his wavy blonde locks crusted with snow. His eyes were dark and solemn when they met Robbie’s.

“Don’t blame Deacon,” he told her. “He had to tell me when I called him to find out where you were. We are neither of us free. I don’t know what to say to persuade you to come back. I have no right to say anything.”

He turned to Deacon helplessly.

“Casey will be punished if you don’t return, Robbie. He’s the one who will suffer. Not you. Not me. Alastair will take it out on him. I’m not going to force you, but I thought you should know.”

She looked at Casey who couldn’t meet her eyes. “Is this true? Your father will punish you?”

“He’s a hard man. He didn’t get where he is by being soft. He’s accustomed to obedience and he’s free with his fists. I told him I would do my best, but if you chose to stay here, there was little I could do. Honesty is not always the best policy,” he said with a wry grin. “He threatened to blacken both my eyes if I failed.”

Deacon had moved to the window and turned his back on them. Robbie examined that broad, strong back under the sweater, those powerful shoulders, the shock of nutbrown hair that gleamed in the Christmas lights–and then her eyes went to the bed.

This was so unfair.

“Is this what you want, Deacon? I know you won’t force me, but do you want me to leave?”

When he turned and she saw the look on his face, she regretted asking.

“I told you I’ll not go against him. You said you liked Casey. I took a chance that you liked him well enough to preserve his face. I can’t imagine you’ll be happy to see it rearranged on my account.”

Casey took a step toward her. “I don’t know what Deacon has told you about me. I know it wasn’t Harry’s fault, but his arrival changed things between my father and I. I’ve tried to make Alastair proud but I have to accept I will never be the golden child. At least with you in the house, I’ll have a friend. That’s all I’m looking for, Robbie. I swear.”

His words pierced her heart. Her relationship with her mother was similarly rocky thanks to Harry. Not that it was his fault, but her brother had cast a long shadow over both of their lives.

Casey Manderville stood in the entryway, damp with melting snow, looking frightened and vulnerable. Vulnerability only added to his beauty; it didn’t detract from it as Alastair believed.

“The car is waiting downstairs,” Deacon said. “Are you coming or going?”

“Going,” she said simply. “Good-bye, Deacon. Thank you for everything.”

He didn’t wait. He locked the door behind them and then sat on the edge of the bed to calm down.

There was no doubt about it this time. He knew what he was sending her into.

Casey Manderville was a weak and petty sadist who would hang a litter of kittens out of revenge.

What would he do to Robbie if she failed to live up to expectations?

His phone had rung when she was in the bathroom, with the water running. Casey had implored him to send her back to Dugald Croft. When that didn’t work, he resorted to threats against Deacon and when that didn’t work, he threatened Robbie.

“You and I both know Harry’s death is suspicious as hell. What if Robbie got wind of a few facts that put Fuil Bratach in the frame? How long do you think she would last before it was her body they found at the foot of Arran Tower?”

Casey was the lesser of two evils.

At Dugald Croft, she would at least have Alastair’s protection. The Black wouldn’t let any harm come to her as long as she posed no threat to the Order.

And she wouldn’t pose a threat as long as she was kept in the dark. His uncle couldn’t get his hands on the Stewart estate so at least Robbie’s inheritance was safe. Once she had money of her own, she would be free to leave. She might not be at Dugald Croft for long when that happened, and she would be safe.

He did the right thing by sending her back.

The snow was still falling.

It was late and he was getting hungry. Deacon pulled on his coat and left his flat in search of dinner.

Passersby barely noticed the tall, broad-shouldered young man who walked along the dark street, leaving only footprints in the snow to mark where he had been.