Her future was her own and she wouldn’t let the men in her life tell her what to do with it.
‘I’m going to go up to the bridal suite,’ she told Isabella in a sweet, not-causing-any-trouble-here tone. ‘It is my wedding night, after all.’
‘Of course.’ Isabella loosened her hold on Helena’s arm, studying her face. Helena kept her expression bland. ‘I’m sure Flynn won’t keep you waiting too long.’
Only until tomorrow morning, given the conversation they’d had while they danced. But her mother-in-law didn’t need to know that. ‘Well, I’d better go and get ready for him, then.’ With a smile, she turned to leave the room, planning to snag a maid to move Flynn’s things on her way.
‘Helena.’ She turned back at Isabella’s call. Flynn’s mother had a small crease between her eyebrows, as if she were still trying to make sense of everything that had happened that day. Maybe she was. God knew it didn’t make any sense to Helena yet, and most of it had been her idea. ‘I just wanted to say...maybe things have worked out for the best, after all. Maybe this can be a fresh start for you and Flynn. For you, especially.’
Helena’s polite smile tightened until her cheeks ached. ‘I hope so,’ she said, not even sure if she was lying or not. ‘It’s about time I was given a second chance around here.’
And, with that, she turned and swept out of the ballroom, leaving her wedding day behind her.
It was time for the wedding night.
‘WELL. THAT WAS a day.’ Thomas Morrison collapsed into one of the wing chairs by the fire of Ezekiel’s study. ‘Tell me you keep the good brandy in here, old friend?’
‘Of course I do,’ Ezekiel answered, his tone irritable. ‘Flynn?’
As his father settled himself into the other wing chair, Flynn moved to the hidden drinks cabinet Ezekiel had found within the first thirty minutes of occupying the office and pulled out three of the good glasses. He deserved a drink, after today. More than just a sip of champagne or half a glass of wine with dinner. He’d held it together all day long, turned a potential disaster into a victory, and now he was about to be cross-examined on his actions by his father and father-in-law.
He was owed this brandy.
‘So.’ Ezekiel studied him as Flynn handed out the brandies, placing his own on the low table between them as he dragged another chair over. ‘You’re a married man now.’
‘My son-in-law,’ Thomas added, as if either of these facts might have eluded Flynn so far that day.
‘This is true.’ Sitting, Flynn stretched his long legs out in front of him, feeling the aches from standing too long in thin-soled shoes. Brandy would help with those too, he decided.
‘So perhaps you would care to explain exactly what you were thinking?’ Ezekiel’s icy tone would have made a weaker man shiver, but Flynn was used to it. Obviously the old man had been working up to this all day. Better to let him get it out.
‘I was thinking about the best course of action in an unfortunate situation.’ Flynn kept his gaze steadily on his father’s face as he spoke.
‘We had a plan! We had a contract, signed and agreed, ready to come into force the moment the girl said “I do”! Now what do we have? A dumb blonde who knows nothing about the company, who can’t provide the PR boost we needed, and who you married without a pre-nup so will probably run off with some footballer or something before you even reach your first anniversary!’ Ezekiel turned briefly towards Thomas. ‘No offence.’
Helena’s father merely shrugged. ‘None taken. Helena has never been the most reliable of my daughters. But, you have to admit, she did step up today.’
‘Yes, she did. And we’d be in a far worse position if she hadn’t.’ Flynn rubbed a hand across his forehead, suddenly tired. ‘Look. Helena has agreed to negotiate a new marriage contract the moment the guests are gone and the buzz dies down. Beyond that...perhaps she doesn’t have Thea’s business skills, but she has other talents.’
‘I bet she does,’ Ezekiel muttered darkly. Flynn ignored the implication.
‘She’s a great hostess, very personable and appealing. And, most importantly, she has the best interests of our families, and the company, at heart. It was her idea to stand in for Thea this morning. She wanted to protect her sister’s reputation and preserve this whole wedding of the year spectacle.’ Of course, she’d also wanted to avoid having to tell their parents what had happened to Thea and Zeke. Something Flynn had great sympathy with.
‘Ah, yes, her sister.’ Ezekiel sat back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. ‘At some point we need to discuss what happened to the unreliable Thea. But what’s done is done. What matters now is what we do next. Thomas? What do you think?’
Thomas sighed as he contemplated his daughter. Flynn’s jaw clenched at the sound of it.
‘Helena’s a good girl, mostly. Had her moments, of course, but I hope that we’re past those now. Isabella thinks that maybe that’s why she took Thea’s place. To prove she was ready to put the past behind her.’
‘Does she?’ Ezekiel nodded. ‘Good insight, that woman. One of the reasons I married her.’
And still he didn’t find it strange that his wife discussed this with his business partner, not himself, Flynn thought. The relationships between his and Helena’s parents still baffled him.
He frowned as Thomas’s words sank in. ‘What past? What happened?’ What was he missing here? His memories of Helena were of the sweet golden child Thomas had talked about in his speech. Maybe she seemed a little more prickly these days, underneath that smooth and charming surface, but Flynn had never really been close enough to investigate further.
He would have to investigate now, though. And he needed all the intelligence he could get going into that.
But apparently he wasn’t going to get it tonight.
‘Nothing that needs to worry you now, son.’ Thomas gave him a kind smile and Flynn tried not to flinch at his use of the word ‘son’ as an endearment. Ezekiel had never managed that. Not once in thirty years. But then, Thomas had always wanted a son and never got one. Ezekiel had longed for one then got two by accident.
How could he have ever hoped to compete with biology?
‘An heir and a spare; that’s what a man needs.’ The words echoed in Flynn’s head from nearly twenty years ago. His father, in another study, with a different glass in his hand, still handing down pronouncements and never, ever listening. ‘But you don’t ever want to have to use the spare, if you can avoid it. And in this case...well, blood is blood. And yours isn’t mine.’
He remembered the moment so clearly. He’d always known he was adopted; no one had even tried to hide it. But standing there in front of his father as he’d explained exactly why Flynn would never matter, would never be good enough, would never truly count...he could still feel the stabbing pains in his heart now, so many years later.
Flynn rubbed absently at his chest as his father set down his brandy glass on the table and prepared to pass judgement.
‘She’ll do as she’s told,’ Ezekiel pronounced. ‘And if she doesn’t...well, you can always get her pregnant. That tends to calm a woman down. Just make sure she signs the papers before the child is born!’ His father’s wheezy laugh rattled through him like a curse, and Thomas joined in after only a moment.
I can’t sleep with her, Flynn thought, trying to keep his horrified disgust to himself, even as the bile rose up in his throat. It might be the obvious way to keep Helena at his side—crushing any chance