The Other Brother (Snow and Ash Book 3) (13 page)

“No. Are you kidding? At least you’re not still wearing jeans and sweatshirts.”

I peer down at myself again. I really don’t have the figure for this.

I change the subject. “You still didn’t tell me what you’re doing here.”

Tish tears her attention away from the marble fireplace and the overly ornate painting just above.

“Oh, you know, Dad. He sent me to make sure you’re not embarrassing him.” She chuckles. “Unfortunately, after that we’re off to Bluefield.”

“Oh no!” Does she really have to marry that old guy? “Why don’t you just run off with Marcus?”

Tish smirks and eyes me sideways. “Can you really picture me roaming the mountains, searching for Tintagel?”

Definitely not.

“I’d rather fuck an old guy than live in the wild.”

“Tish!” I laugh. Tish has a way of turning even the worst things into something funny. “Does Col. Ernshaw know you’re here?”

She lifts a shoulder. “Someone told me one of Balenchuk’s guys was here. I haven’t met him.”

“You will.”

There’s another knock before Patricia enters. “Can I get you ladies anything?”

I’m about to say no, but then I remember my task list. “Actually, can you tell Mrs. Wagner I have to cancel this afternoon? I guess just— I know. Invite her and Col. Wagner to dinner. Tell her it’s a welcome for my sister Letitia.”

Patricia nods.

“Is someone taking care of rooms for my sister? The others?”

“Everything’s taken care of, Mrs. Barry. We’re preparing a room for Miss Mason right now.”

I breathe a sigh and smile at her. “Thanks, Patricia. You’re always on top of things.”

“You’re so formal here,” my sister teases.

I spread my arms and take in the room. “It’s the Biltmore House, Tish. What do you want?”

Tish snorts and ogles the fireplace, the Oriental rug, the plush sofa. The sofa’s modern, something brought in for comfort rather than state. But the damask matches the room completely. “I can’t believe you live here!”

“Well, it’s here, so why not? Want a tour?”

“Hell yeah!”

I spend an hour taking her through the parts that aren’t private or used by the military. In the formal dining room she gapes at the twin chandeliers.

“This is fucking unbelievable.” Tish shakes her head, a tiny frown between her eyes.

“I know, right?” Personally, sometimes I feel a little lost in here. But it is absolutely stunning; there’s no doubt about that.

Tish moves into the room. She strokes the back of one of the chairs and stares at the ceiling. “This is definitely a step up for anyone. All the Barrys live here, I’m guessing?”

I nod. “Some of the upper cadre too. I guess it makes it easier to house everyone in the same place.”

She sighs. “Please tell me it’s not squirrels and beaver every night.”

Dinners back in Knoxville weren’t always gourmet. But then, no one has it good—except the Barrys. “Actually the food isn’t bad. Were you able to see that tall building in town? They have this twenty-story greenhouse, and they grow everything.”

Tish eyes my backside. “I guess so. Look how fat you’re getting!”

I cross my arms over my chest. I’d like to hide my butt behind a piece of furniture. She’s teasing, I know, but she’s right. I’ve gained at least fifteen pounds since I got here, and most of it landed in my butt. That and my chest. I clear my throat and offer a timid smile. Timid because this is Tish, after all. My extroverted, bigger-than-life sister. “Kent likes me this way.”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t doubt that. Guys are such shits. He doesn’t want anyone looking at you.”

Heat fills my cheeks. Is that what he’s doing? “Do I look that bad?”

Letitia blinks. “Oh no! Of course not! You could never look bad.”

I’m not convinced, but I let it slide.

Patricia finds us and announces Tish’s rooms are ready. We set off to find them.

Just outside her door, Tish squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry Nico freaked and ran.”

I recoil. “Oh. Don’t be. It’s fine.”

Tish eyes me like I’m a brave girl, and enters her temporary home. She sweeps the room in a glance and wrinkles her brow. “If it weren’t for—you know—I’d say you hit the jackpot.”

I cock my head. “If it weren’t for what?”

Tish bites her lip and winces. “I get it that you did it for the treaty, but look what you ended up with. That guy is so gross, and you have to sleep with him. It’s not too awful, is it? I mean, does he…understand? You know, about your problem?”

My problem? God, why did she have to bring that up? I swallow. I swallow again. “There’s nothing wrong with Kent, and what happens between him and me is none of your business.”

She huffs. “Oh, come on!”

I feel bad. She just got here, and I’m being such a witch. “He’s my husband. I’m sorry, Tish, but I’m not going to talk to you about this.”

She rubs my shoulder and gives me an understanding smile. “I understand,” she says gently.

I’m tempted to smack her. She feels sorry for me? Who does she think she is, talking smack about my husband? She doesn’t even know him. It only took an hour, but the old Bianca-Tish dynamic has returned. Big sister, always so much smarter, so much better than me. Before I came here, I bought into it. Kent has changed me, though, and I want to keep it that way.

I love my sister. She’s always been there for me, but she makes me feel like an old shoe.

~ ~ ~

I meet Tish just outside of the dining room at precisely eight o’clock. It’s not the room with the big chandeliers, but it still looks like a place where Marie Antoinette would eat.

“You look so pretty,” I tell her. It’s true. In a post-makeup world where the rest of us look ghostly plain, Tish’s bold coloring makes her stand out.

“Thanks!” Then she eyes my dress. She raises her brows and bites the side of her cheek.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s nice.” She gives me a cheery smile, but it’s fake. I know her. “Smooth your hair, Bee. It’s frizzing.”

She rearranges a few of my strands and frowns. “You look nice with your hair up. Why did you stop?”

“I don’t know.”

Right before my workout this morning, Patricia helped me do one of those hot oil treatments she talked about. We used precious olive oil to do it. I did my entire cardio session with all that goop in my hair. We washed it out after, and when it was dry, my hair was soft as a kitten’s ear. Shiny, too. At least, I thought so at the time.

My butt feels like it’s the size of the moon as we cross toward the table. I smooth my hair, but it’s no use. There’s no containing it. Is everyone staring? My eyes sweep the room and I catch Col. Ernshaw eyeing me up and down, and he quickly averts his gaze. Is it true? Is Kent making me look stupid so other men won’t want me?

Someone on the general’s staff arranges all the formal affairs. Whoever it was set name cards in front of our plates. Kent and I are at the opposite ends, and my mood sinks. I wanted to be next to him. But I’ve got my sister to my right, and Nico on my left, so it’s not like I have to talk to someone I don’t know, like Maj. Arpin’s fiancée. They put her next to Nico.

Tish entertains Nico and me with all the adventures she’s had since I left. With Tish, everything is an adventure. Before I know it, it’s already time for the third course.

“Tenderloin, Mrs. Barry?”

I study the platter. Do I want to eat all that steak, or should I just hold off and wait for the veggies? And what’s the starch tonight? If it’s anything with cheese melted over it, I’ll die. At this rate my butt’s going to be bigger than the state of Tennessee by New Year’s.

“Make up your dang mind, Bee; we’re starving.” Tish giggles. Nico joins her.

Flushing, I take whichever one is on top and set it on my plate. It’s got to be two inches thick, and it’s bloody. Gross. But there are people starving out there. I have no business complaining.

I peer down at Kent, but he and Col. Ernshaw are paying rapt attention to Ernshaw’s companion. It’s the same girl he was with the other night. She has long, sleek dark hair and she’s dressed in a white halter dress that fits her like it’s a tattoo. She’s built right for it. Well, up top anyway. For all I know, she could have cankles.

“Bianca, seriously, you have got to love this,” Tish murmurs with a smile. “Everyone here is at least ten years older than you. Except me, of course. You’ll never feel old.”

“Old? I feel like I’m in kindergarten.” I reach for my water and knock a spoon off the table. It lands with a clatter, and several pairs of eyes turn to me. I go rigid. I fix my attention on my plate, on the oozing muscle that practically still walks. A private scoops up the offending cutlery and places a clean one next to my plate.

God. Could I be any more awkward? It wouldn’t be so bad if I was sitting next to Kent. He takes care of everything, and all I have to do is eat. He directs the conversation, and I never feel incompetent or left out or like I don’t belong. Let’s face it. I shouldn’t be in a setting like this. I shouldn’t be wearing fancy clothes or chatting up foreign dignitaries. I belong in sweat pants.

Tish squeezes my arm and offers me a smile. She means to comfort me, I know that, but now I’m so hot I could burst. I glance up at Kent just in time to see him laugh at something Ernshaw’s companion says.

Laughing. He’s laughing. Kent never laughs.

Ernshaw glances my way at that exact moment. He raises his brows and clears his throat. “Col. Barry, your wife looks lovely tonight.”

Kent blinks as though pulled from a dream and peers down at me. “Thank you. She does, doesn’t she?”

I smile my thanks, but I’m too shy to speak, especially when I’m being tossed pity.

There was a time I could take on a two-hundred-pound man and kick him unconscious.

“You know who that is, don’t you?” Nico murmurs.

“Who?”

He leans toward me. “The girl next to Ernshaw.”

I move in closer. “No. Should I?”

“That’s Ayden Deigh. Kent used to date her. It was a while ago, of course. Before the accident. Before, you know, his face.”

I flick another glance at Ayden, and my stomach kinks. “Were they together for long?”

He shrugs. “Couple of years, maybe? They had something entirely different. Kent’s actually pretty considerate where you’re concerned. Usually he’s a real bastard. With Ayden it was all heat. It was an S&M thing. Pretty violent sometimes, from what he’s told me.”

Oh great. “Well she sounds like a bitch, breaking up with him after the fire.”

“It’s not like that. She ended it a couple months before that happened.”

I sigh. Of course she did. I want to smooth my hair into a tight braid. I want to grab a tablecloth and cover myself.

Nico chuckles. “Relax. You’re his wife. She’ll never have that.”

I shrug as I cut into the disgusting mass of flesh. “I’m not worried.”

But I am. For the rest of the dinner, I watch as Kent, Ernshaw, and Ayden flirt, laugh, and exchange what is probably intelligent, witty conversation. And why not? She’s beautiful. She looks older than me, too. I’m that teenage girl he got stuck marrying for the sake of politics.

By the time dinner is finished, my cheeks hurt from fake smiling and all I’ve eaten is a spoonful of soup, a too-small salad, and a bite of bloody steak.

“I need to talk to Col. Ernshaw,” Tish says, and she sashays off to meet him.

Kent is talking to Maj. Arpin and his fiancée, whose name I still don’t know, and Nico abandoned the room the second Kent stood up. I’m just standing there. By myself.

At least he’s not talking to Ayden. If he does, I’ll lose it.

“Thank you, Mrs. Barry. We had a wonderful time,” Col. Wagner says.

I’d put him and his wife, Diana, at well over forty. Not that I’m an expert. Diana must be at least six feet tall, and when she smiles down at me, it feels distinctly maternal.

“I’m sorry about canceling this afternoon, Mrs. Wagner.” I shoot a glance at my sister. She’s still talking to Col. Ernshaw. He’s wearing this stunned, eyebrows raised, am-I-in-the-middle-of-a-tornado look.

“Oh, bless your heart.” She actually grabs my hand and pats it. “If my sister surprised me like that, I’d kick y’all out.”

I smile back at her. She’s got what my mother calls old Southern charm. People used to make fun of it, but it comes in handy. Like right now, when I need someone to be nice to me. They leave, and so does stupid Ayden, who does not thank me. It’s all I can do not to turn around and check to see if she does have cankles. Or a huge ass. I’m betting she doesn’t.

Kent’s still talking to the major and his fiancée, the girl I don’t know. I shouldn’t say girl, though, because she looks at least as old as Tish.

I sigh. I consider grabbing my sister away from the colonel and fleeing the room. Tish touches his arm and laughs, but he doesn’t return it. In fact, he’s frowning. I am not getting in the middle of that.

The major shakes Kent’s hand, and he and his companion turn to leave. Kent is alone now, but I am so not going to him. I’ve had to watch him flirt with that woman all night. If he wants to talk to me, he can come over here. I cross my arms over my chest. But then he catches my eye and waves me over. Damn him. After a moment’s hesitation I cross the distance between us. I am absolutely certain, without a doubt, that my hair is frizzing.

When he places his hand in the small of my back, I stiffen. He tucks a finger under my chin and gives a half smile. “What’s with that face?”

I bite my lip. If I bring up the old girlfriend, will he be mad at me? Is that crossing some kind of line? I’m just his arranged wife, some girl with no social grace whatsoever. Then again he told me very specifically not to hold things back. He reminded me again last night, and that’s something I’ll never forget. But…

I look away. “Nothing.”

“Bianca.” His voice is full of warning.

I flick him a glance and cross my arms again. “It’s just…Nico told me y— I mean, he said that girl you were talking to, you two used to be—”

“What is this?” His brow collapses over his eyes.

Oh God. Why did I say anything? “I just…nothing.”

“No. You’re out of line, Bianca. What happened between Ayden and me is private.”