Page 26 of Wicked Deceptions
We drive for a while in silence. Inside my bag, I have a notebook where I jot down my life experiences. This trip is definitely a life experience. I take it out, along with a pencil, and begin jotting down some notes.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Making notes in my journal.”
“So a trip to see my family is journal-worthy. I’m honored,” he teases.
“You should be. Not many people make it into my journal. You are one of the few.”If he only knew the truth. And I want to tell him. I’m so tired of it all, the lies and deceit.
He grabs my hand and brings it to his lips. After gently kissing it, he says, “Well, then I am proud to bestow such an honor as to make it into your journal.”
When we get to his family home, I am more than impressed. I am in awe. Never in a million years did I expect such a grand estate. The house looks like a medieval castle.
“Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“The house dates back to the late 1400s. There are four wings: North, South, East, and West. If you look over there”—he gestures to the right—“you can see the towers and turrets. They all have conical roofs. On the north side, there are nine bays with tall sash windows, all divided into groups by the towers. The west side, which faces the courtyard, has a total of nineteen bays with seven in the central section.”
“It’s stunning, and you sure do know a lot about the architecture.”
“Look over there.” He points toward the center, where there is a sculpture of an eagle and a child.
“What is that?”
“It the family emblem.”
“Your family has an emblem? I think perhaps there is something you have not told me about yourself.” I often wondered why he hadn’t divulged his nobility before, but I guess the subject never really came up.
He laughs. “I have kept something from you. I don’t tell many people because I don’t want to receive special favors or treatment. And I especially don’t want the woman I love to love me because of it.”
“So what have you not been telling me, Mr. Stanley?” I tease.
“My father is the Earl of Derby. He is also the British Minister of War.”
“Oh my word, does that mean you will be earl someday?”
“No, my older brother, Edward, will be the earl.”
“Oh, thank God.” I’m sure he can hear the relief in my voice.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I could never be a countess.”
“Oh, I bet you could.”
“Well, let’s just say I am glad you are the second son.”
He stops the car at the end of the drive and is greeted immediately by several footmen and servants.
“Welcome home, sir,” a tall man in butler’s livery says. There isn’t much that surprises me these days, but I am genuinely surprised by all of this. Ben has kept this part of his life secret the whole time I’ve known him, until now.Little does he know I already knew.
“It’s good to be home, Branson. Thank you.” He helps me from the car and says, “This is Katie.”
“A pleasure, miss,” Branson replies.
We walk into the house, and though I thought the outside of the home was spectacular, nothing compares to the inside.
