Page 20 of The Last Stitch

“Which proves how valuable she might be.”

“Or how dangerous.” Garrick's expression was impossible to read. “Just make sure you're using her, August. And not the other way around.”

He moved toward the door, then stopped, his hand on the frame. “One more thing.”

“What?”

“Constance.”

The name landed like a stone in still water. I kept my expression neutral. “What about her?”

“She's been here twice this week already. She'll notice if suddenly a woman living in your house.” Garrick turned back, his gaze steady. “Even with the cousin story, Constance will ask questions. Make assumptions. And you know how she gets when she feels her territory is threatened.”

“Lily isn’t—” I stopped myself. “It's not like that.”

“I know it's not. You know it's not.” He crossed his arms. “But Constance won't see it that way. She'll see competition, real or imagined. And she'll either make a scene or go running to your father with concerns about this mysterious cousin who's appeared so suddenly.”

He wasn't wrong. Constance had been. . . persistent lately. More possessive. Dropping by unannounced, making comments about our future, about expectations. Things I'd been carefully avoiding addressing.

“What are you suggesting?”

“I'm suggesting this would be an excellent time to end things with her.” Garrick's tone was matter-of-fact. “Cleanly. Before she becomes a complication you can't afford.”

“We're not—” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “It's not a formal arrangement.”

“No, but she thinks it could be. Your father thinks it should be.” Garrick's expression was knowing. “And the longer you let it continue, the more complicated it becomes. Especially now, with a woman living under your roof—prisoner or not.”

I moved to the window, tension coiling in my shoulders. He was right, of course. Constance had been a. . . convenience. Nothing more. Daughter of one of Father's associates, well-bred, appropriately connected. The kind of match that made sense on paper.

But there was no warmth there. No spark. Just expectation and duty, wrapped in propriety.

“She'll be upset,” I said finally.

“She'll survive.” No sympathy in Garrick's voice. “Better to handle it now than have her discover Lily and create a scandal. Or worse—report her suspicions to your father.”

The thought sent ice through my veins. Constance, wounded and vindictive, telling Father about the strange woman in my house. The questions that would follow. The investigation.

“I'll handle it,” I said.

“When?”

“Soon.”

“August.”

“I said I'll handle it.” My voice came out sharper than intended. “You're right. It needs to be done. But I have more pressing concerns at the moment than Constance's feelings.”

Garrick studied me for a long moment. “Just don't wait too long. The last thing you need is a jealous woman with access to your father's ear.”

After he left, I stood alone in the study, watching afternoon fade toward evening. Another complication. Another loose thread that needed tying off.

Constance would have to be dealt with. Carefully. Definitively.

But not tonight. Tonight, I had a prisoner to manage and a father to deceive. Everything else could wait.

CHAPTER 7

LILY