Keep Me (Sinful Manor #1)

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

“There will be a full staff on hand…once we replace them,” Anna says as she pours hot water into my cup. I pick up the string from the tea bag and dunk it a few times as she continues.

It’s still so odd to me that she is so involved in her brother’s life. He’s thirty-seven. Why is she even here? My parents practically wrote me off once I turned eighteen. Pushed me right out of that nest, and I would never expect them to put this much effort into getting me to fix my life. The only effort they’ve ever shown is by calling their accountant to have them cease my allowance deposits. I’m sure that took a phone call. It’s so endearing to think they took the time to do that for me.

“What kind of staff?” I ask as I reach for the sugar.

“You’ll have a cook, someone to clean, and a driver if you need to go anywhere.”

“Seriously?” I ask with a perplexed expression. “So there will just be people here all the time?”

“Not all the time,” she replies. “They keep basic hours, and they don’t live here. But if you need them, they’re available. There is a groundskeeper who lives in one of the houses on the property.”

“Can’t I just…drive myself?”

I see the corners of her jaw click as she presses her teeth together. “You can go anywhere you’d like. I’m not holding you here, but for your safety, we’d prefer if you’d use the driver.”

My hand stills mid-dunk. I’m not an idiot. I know what she means by my safety , and it means I’ll be watched. Wherever I decide to go will be everyone’s knowledge. The reminder that I’ll be someone’s wife, regardless of how fake it is, makes me shudder with apprehension.

I’ll be someone’s property.

I mean, not literally. But suddenly, it feels like I’m living by some pretty archaic rules. I’m in a fucking manor that is staffed like it’s Downton Abbey , and I have to live with a real-life chauffeur like I’m some sort of princess. It feels like prison bars made of gold.

Ten million dollars, Sylvie , I remind myself. I can do just about anything for one year. One year of actual luxury, and then I’ll be set for life.

“Who will know it’s not real? The staff?” I ask, wondering if I really need to sell this marriage all the time to everyone.

Anna places her hand on the table in front of me and leans forward. “No. No one can know the scheme. The only people who know are myself, my siblings, and our aunt. That is all. The public, the staff, and especially our extended family must believe that it’s real.”

I force down a gulp. A moment ago I figured the marriage was just a contract we had to uphold for a while, but now I have to actually convince people for a very long period of time that I’m in love with Killian Barclay. I think I might have bitten off more than I can chew.

Speaking of the devil, he bounds loudly down the stairs and into the sitting room, where Anna and I are stationed around a small table, each with a cup of tea in front of us.

“Join us for tea,” she says to her brother.

He seems freshly showered. His hair is still a little wet at the tips, and he’s in clean clothes. He’s wearing a pair of dark jeans, brown boots, and a white knit Henley.

Is he trying to impress me with those sculpted shoulders in that tight top? It’s like he’s showing off, and it’s cheesy and gross. Killian is a chauvinist, and I hate chauvinists.

Without giving him much attention, I focus on my tea, lifting it to my lips for a sip.

“No, thanks,” he replies as he crosses the room toward the bar against the wall. He pours himself something, and I watch his sister for her reaction. There’s a flinch in her stoic, brave expression which reveals something more similar to heartache. Just a subtle flinch of pain.

Killian drops onto the sofa lazily with his drink in his hand. “So, when’s the wedding?” he asks. “I need to know when to plan my stag do.”

I make the mistake of glancing toward him, and he gives me a quick wink, making my blood boil, so I look away again.

The incentive to talk business makes Anna sit taller and look a good deal more in her element than a moment ago.

“There will be no stag do, Killian. And I think it’s best if we do a private ceremony at the church—”

“No church,” he barks, cutting her off.

“Killian…” she pleads.

“I told you. The wedding has to be here, or I’m not doing it.”

Anna lets out a surrendering sigh. “Fine. We’ll have the wedding here and make the official announcement to the public next week. That would be the easiest and most efficient solution.”

“What do you mean official announcement ?” I ask, tightening my grip on my teacup.

“The family puts out statements to the public through the newspaper, but more recently on social media and through our family’s bulletin. Next month, the two of you should attend an event in town, so people can see you together.”

I notice the way Killian grimaces.

Meanwhile, I’m too distracted by the promise of an announcement. The thought of everyone I know seeing that, especially my parents, makes me giddy with excitement.

“Wait,” I say, realizing something that makes my skin crawl. “You said the staff will all have to believe we’re really married. Does that mean I have to sleep in his room—”

“Och, no,” Anna answers, cutting me off.

“Oh, yes,” Killian says at the same time. He’s wearing a cunning smile, and it’s handsome and alluring, like the devil’s. He could lure women to their deaths with a smile like that.

“No,” Anna says again, side-eying her brother. “There are no physical requirements in this agreement.” I notice the way her cheeks blush, and her fists clench on the topic.

“Unless you want to,” Killian adds with a wink.

“I won’t,” I quip.

“Of course, in public,” Anna adds, “you would need to be convincing as a couple.”

I let out a sigh and grind my molars at the thought. I can do that. For a few hours, I can at least pretend that he’s not a complete pigheaded asshole.

“You can handle that. Can’t you, darling?”

I glance at Killian, wondering if he can read my mind.

“How hard could it be?” I reply with a forced smile.

Every time Killian and I speak to each other, I notice Anna’s discomfort grows. She’s clearly recognizing just how poorly he and I get along and that this might actually be a terrible idea, which for the record, I tried to warn her about.

“Killian, why don’t you take Sylvie for a little walk around the garden? Spend some time getting to know each other. You two can discuss your personal terms, and I’ll just wait here, looking over some paperwork.”

I turn my attention to Killian on the couch and notice the way his eyes burn with skepticism. I suddenly remember how, on that day I broke into the house, he kept insisting I was a spy for his sister. What on earth does he really think she’s going to do while she’s here? I mean, she’s already walked in on his orgy. What more could he be hiding?

“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” he says as he stands from the couch. His tone is dripping with sarcasm. “Come on, darling.”

With a roll of my eyes, I stand from the chair and look at him, waiting for him to lead the way.

Looking miserable, he walks toward the large French doors that lead to the garden behind the house. I never saw this part when we drove up over a month ago. Plus it was raining then, so I missed the gorgeous view.

Barclay Manor sits in the middle of a sprawling countryside. The garden behind the house is expansive and mostly flat before it leads to a large body of water with rolling hills and trees in the distance.

For a girl who grew up in Manhattan, this feels epic and overwhelming. The world felt much smaller in the city. We could only see as far as the building in front of us. Even in the high-rise apartments and rooftops, it felt like my view was limited to the edge of town. Breathtaking nonetheless, the views in New York are nothing like the views here.

It makes me feel even smaller. One puny human in the grand scheme of things. Insignificant and useless.

“Come on,” Killian says with a growl as he makes his way down the stairs to the manicured garden below. “It’s not raining today, so we better make the best use of it before it does.”

I let out a cynical laugh. “And what exactly would be the best use of it?”

He directs an arched brow toward me. “We’re supposed to be gettin’ to know each other, remember?”

“Okay, so what would you like to know?” I ask.

He stops and stares down at me. “Why the fuck would you agree to this? You must really be out of your mind.”

I scoff. “Why would you agree to it? Your sister told me you thought I was rude and mean.”

“Oh, you are, darling,” he says with a chuckle.

“Then why me? Why would you agree to marry me if you hate me so much?”

He steps toward me, crowding me toward the gray stone wall. His tall frame blocks the sun from my eyes, casting him in a shadow.

“Because as soon as the year is up, I don’t want to have a wife anymore. As soon as my family sees that I’m a changed man, they’ll leave me be, and I can stay in my house without them meddling in my business.

“So, I’d rather marry a selfish, rude, ugly, entitled cow like you so I never have to worry about hurting your feelings or wanting to make you happy. We stay our separate ways and get through the next twelve months without having to see each other much. Do we have a deal?”

My blood has never been hotter.

“Deal,” I mutter through my clenched teeth.

As he turns away to continue our stroll through the yard, I add, “You do realize you can’t keep fucking the staff if we’re married, right?”

He huffs, letting his head hang back with an amused grin as he turns back toward me. “I’ll fuck anyone I please, and you’ll keep your mouth shut about it, or you’ll risk us both losing what was promised to us.”

“Oh, so you get to have your fun, but I don’t?” I argue, stepping up to him. I don’t care that he’s almost twice my size or that he could bend me in half with one hand. I refuse to let this giant brute manipulate me or have his way while I’m stuck asking for a ride and being watched like a child for the next year.

“And what are you going to do about it, darling?”

“Stop calling me that,” I spit.

“I’ll call you whatever I want.”

I take another step closer to him.

“One thing you should know about me,” I say, poking him hard in the chest. “I’m stubborn, and I don’t back down in a fight. And I really fucking want that money, so if you think I’m going to risk losing because you wanna get your dick wet, you’re wrong. I can make your life hell if want to try to blackmail me into staying quiet.”

“You really are a conniving little bitch, aren’t you?” he replies, but the insult doesn’t even sting.

“Yes, I am,” I say with pride. “And you’re right. We are going to stay our separate ways over the next year, and then we can easily split and take what’s owed to us. I won’t ruin it for you if you don’t ruin it for me.”

“Is that a threat, wench ?”

I glower at him. “Sure is… brute .”

Moving around him, I continue my stroll down the gravel path, waiting for the moment when he finally moves from his spot and picks up his pace behind me.

I don’t feel bad that all of this is just his family tricking him out of his home. If he wants to be a rude and uncultured brute, then I won’t feel bad at all.