Heaven And Hell novel Chapter 53

I mean, yeah, the gown was absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful, but couldn't I at least choose for myself?

"Sharon," the dowager suddenly barked, walking slightly around the dolled-up mannequin in velvet chiffon, looking at someone from behind it. This was the first time I noticed someone else in the room other than the Cuttings.

"Yes, madam?" the woman asked shakily.

Clearly, she was afraid the dowager would bark at her again. I couldn't blame her. Lady Cutting had that effect on every human being on the planet.

Except maybe Michael and myself.

"Are you done snipping at the loose threads at the hem?" she demanded, tapping her cane on the cream-coloured carpet.

"Almost...there. Finished."

The dowager sniffed. "You may take tea now, or rest. God knows you've been snipping at the other ones. Then kindly report back to Valentino that I am satisfied with his services."

The other ones? What was this all about?

Sharon, who had mousy features and plain brown hair, dipped her head and walked out of the room with a nod toward us, poor thing.

Lady C gazed at the gorgeous gown with such admiration, her icy blue eyes started twinkling then she sighed and turned back to look at us instead. For a moment, she looked beat and wary -- old. Maybe she just wanted us to be truly happy. Maybe she simply wanted to contribute to the wedding as much as she could.

"Stop staring at me like I'm some piece of bangers and mash, child!" she snapped at me. "Are you daft?"

Or maybe not.

"What are you up to, Grandmama?" Michael demanded, crossing his arms over his hard chest. "Because I'm positive that this isn't going to be good."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why, to think that my own grandson doubts me."

He snorted derisively.

"What is it?" I pressed, marching toward her, my shoes stomping the carpet with my long strides. "Come on, Margaret, spit it out!"

I heard Michael's snort of laughter and Emerson's violent coughs.

The dowager smirked. "Just a surprise that I think you might like."

I narrowed my eyes.

"Yeah right, Grandmama," Emerson piped in. When her grandmother looked at her with cold eyes, she pursed her lips but kept glaring.

Lady C nodded once, then walked toward the door. When none of us followed her behind, she halted, looking over her shoulder. "Well? Aren't you all coming?"

With loud grumbles, we followed her.

^^^^^

"Jesus!"

"It's Frederick," the cousin of Michael and Emerson, snapped, clearly unamused.

We all looked at him, like it was unbelievable that he was there in his own guest bedroom, seated in an elegant wooden chair.

His upper body was tied with a rope that went all the way from the front to the back of the chair with his calves tied onto each leg of it.

It was official: Lady Margaret Cutting, dowager Duchess of Rossington, was nuts.

Emerson came to my side, placing a hand on my shoulder. "She's all right, don't worry. Um...she's very beautiful. Like Sleeping Beauty."

I exhaled sharply through my nose. I turned toward the dowager. "You kidnapped Viv, too?"

"Yes!" Frederick exclaimed, beating his grandmother's words to the punch. Lady Cutting gave him an evil look; he looked up at the ceiling as Michael untied him with a pair of scissors he'd found on top of the study table.

I felt like wailing. "For what purpose?"

Lady Cutting shrugged, flicking a wrist casually. "To marry Frederick, of course."

My brows furrowed as I gaped at her.

Frederick groaned. "But I don't even have a title! I'm a mere mister."

"Not anymore, in this traditional family, you're not," his grandmother bit off, sniffing. "A distant cousin of yours and Michael's passed away, eight times removed -- you, my dear boy, are presently the ninth Earl of Huntingdon."

"What?" he yelled, exasperated. He was finally free from the chair, now he was rubbing his wrists. It looked like Frederick wanted to die on the spot.

"Grandmama, you're mad!" Emerson exclaimed. "You just gave him a shock! Also, you didn't tell me that Cousin Walter is deceased. How could you?" She looked really betrayed.

Guess they usually had that grandmother-to-granddaughter bond. In an evil way.

Frederick choked. "Not the point, Emerson. God, thanks for your concern."

Emerson stuck her tongue out at him and rolled her eyes.

"So..." Michael began, sighing, "Walter died, Frederick's the new earl, and my grandmother has kidnapped him and Viv. What else? Let me guess -- we're having a double wedding." He didn't look amused at all, let me tell you that.