A soft knocking sound rouses Theo from his slumber, a droplet of sweat rolls between his brows. For a moment, he’s delirious—clutching the hair on his chest for support. He takes a strong, deep breath. He’s not in that chamber anymore. Nightmares had swirled through him, leaving him tense upon sunrise. There was no sense in relaying this to Delia—he has enough sense not to burden her with his concerns.

He turns to Delia; she’s spooned three of the seven pillows dividing their bed. Their bed, Theo shocks himself with the jolt he feels—they’ve shared sleeping accommodations over eight days—but the thought is true nonetheless. They’ve been married for two days; they share more than just a bed—she has his last name as well.

Funny, she didn’t snore at all last night. Theo is used to seeing her slack-jawed and drooling, but she’s curled in a defensive position. Why is his first instinct to scoop her up and leave this madhouse? He didn’t love her as a husband should love a wife, but the desire to protect her was strong. Maybe it was to alleviate his guilt—ugh—this wasn’t the time to reminisce. The second knock is firmer, louder. He gets out of bed, rushing to the door. He doesn’t wish to wake her up.

On the other side is his grandfather’s lanky, ornery valet with slicked black hair. Why the hell was he here?  

“Pardon for the morning alarm, Master Theodore, but Lord Milo wishes for your and Lady Cordelia’s company in the study.”

Theo ponders momentarily—didn’t his grandfather state that his footman—ah, to hell with it. “I’ll go alone, Mr. Ellis. Tell him I’ll be there in fifteen minutes—I’d also like my coffee black.” He gives Theo a curt nod, off to accomplish his task.

Theo closes the door gently behind him. He can relay the plan to Delia later when she’s had some rest—without her present, he could afford to be candid with his grandfather. He throws on a black tee and slips his feet into a pair of grey slippers he tucked away under his bed. Before leaving, he drapes the cover over Delia—she grunts softly in response.

“I did it so you wouldn’t catch a cold. I’m not interested in getting sick because of your negligence.” He mutters his reasoning to her, but it made no sense to. She wasn’t awake—was she? He swore he saw the makings of a grin with her plump, cherry coloured lips—the thought sending a sharp pang in his gut. He feels the heat rise to his cheeks, deciding that now was the perfect time to leave.

Theo knocks on the door to his grandfather’s study, entering when he hears the affirmative.

“Aloha awakea, my boy.” Milo beams, noting the way Theo is rubbing his eyes. He hasn’t realized how much he relied on Delia’s snores for that ambient white noise he was used to.

“I haven’t heard you speak our native tongue in some time.”

“And you haven’t visited me on your own in some time—where is your lovely wife?”

“Asleep,” Theo says, uncomfortable with his grandfather talking so comfortably about Delia. It has brought them nothing but grievances. “If you want me to retrieve her—”

“No, let her sleep. Cordelia hinted that the two quarrelled. I’ve never seen the woman so downcast; she didn’t share details. Do you know what happened?”

Theo isn’t about to divulge personal information. “No, she kept quiet about it. We spent the evening mulling over our future.” That wasn’t completely untrue—little discussions were had, but Delia did ask Theo to accompany her to the outside courtyard—mentioning the appeal of a remote dwelling, far away from her family—before falling into quietness once again. She skipped dinner and was asleep by the time Theo returned to his room. It was a weight off his mind that he no longer had to worry about those roguish brutes—thanks to his surprisingly helpful grandfather. But they won’t be fooled for long—hopefully, this conversation would aspire to free both Delia and himself from their burden.

“Ah,” His grandfather lights his pipe. “Sit. We’ll begin when Olivin arrives.” That wasn’t a name he was expecting from his grandfather’s lips.  It stirs Theo’s nerves to have his brother and grandfather in the same room. He hasn’t seen them converse in over a year. Theo finds his hands to be gripping the arms of his chair—maybe he was tenser than he thought. “While we wait, let’s have a chat.” The way he emphasizes the word chat doesn’t bring him joy.

“And what do you wish to discuss?”

“Divulge an old man with the stories of youth.” There’s a twinkle in his amber eyes. “Your marriage for instance—is she manageable?”

“In what way?” He raises a brow.

“She’s not too broody, is she?” Milo hmms.

“No.”

“Good, there’s nothing worse than a partner who isn’t agreeable.” Milo picks up a framed photo on his desk, strolling the oak frame with a finger. “I miss her every day you know.” A soft sadness washes over Theo, he doesn’t remember his grandmother too well, for he was a young child when she passed away. He remembers her long, flowing white hair—perfumed with lavender. It’s why his grandfather bought bottle upon bottles of her perfume—to keep her smell alive.  Her crimson eyes were always sparkling and full of love. He hadn’t thought of his grandmother much, but he wonders what kind of conversations they would have now that he was grown. It would be more in-depth than building castles in the sand. “She would have liked Delia—she loved eggs very much.”

“I think liking one’s favourite foods doesn’t correlate to two people getting on.” Theo shakes his head.

“Nothing wrong with making friends over a good meal.” He smiles, “It’s how I met your grandmother.”  

“It’s alright, Delia doesn’t cause me trouble.”

“That’s not very romantic,” The older man sighs but stiffens when his study door opens. His usually good-spirited brother stands still as if he were a deer caught by the headlights of a vehicle.

“Don’t gawk, boy—sit.” His grandfather instructs, his voice taking a dominating role. Oli’s eyes glance for a place to sit, he scuffles to the seat beside Theo. “Close the door before you get comfortable.” Oli hops up, nudges the door shut before he sits back down—his expression looking as if he’s to await a grand punishment. There was no warm greeting due for Oli—although Theo shouldn’t have been surprised. Their grandfather folds his hands as he exhales, acting like he has a grand unfortunate secret to release. “Anys contacted me—he's come up with a plan. And you two are going to execute it perfectly.”

***

“Yeesh, that was a tough one. Thought Gramps was gonna beat me with an inch of his life!” Oli chuckled, the ease in his crimson eyes returning as they duck into one of the elaborate guestrooms, away from lingering ears. “All he wants me to do is pretend I want revenge on the family, and you to stay…what did he say…ignorant?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Theo questions outwardly—it was pretty obvious that he has to be ignorant of Oli’s apparent treachery, as he was going to give the kidnappers fake intel on the family. Now, how Oli was going to get back into the good graces of his former employers? That, unfortunately, was left up to his brother as his grandfather gave them no direction.

“Who knew Anys was so handy; not only does he have men stalking the premises, but he sold Gramps the deed that you guys needed. It’s perfectly convenient to bring the plot forward.” He turns away from Theo and winks.

Theo ignores his brother’s strange performance. “Better that we have it, in case things turn to shit. Grandfather said that it would be a good place to hide out if things got messy.”

“I wish I could get a private island. Deel hates people and I’m sick of hiding around.” He sulks, crossing his arms. “You’re lucky you get to share a room with Dee.”

Theo bristles at the nickname Oli gives her—correcting him immediately. “Delia. And it’s not luck, we were forced at gunpoint to pretend that we love each other. It’s not real.”

“Looked pretty real when I broke into your room.”

Theo’s face burns. “Shut up—anyways—it’s not the same as you and Delius. We were forced to get married.”

“There’s nothing that you like about her?” Oli raises a brow. “I mean she’s not my type, but she’s cute looking—in the cute plump way.”

“She’s not plump.”

“She is where it counts, even I’m not that blind.” He motions his hands in a large half-oval shape. “But again, what do I know. Skinny blonde men are more my type. Your wife’s got nothing on Deel.” He lets out a jovial chuckle.

Theo scans his thoughts, desperate to change the subject. “How did you meet Delius?” Part of him was curious, but it’s more to distract his brother.

“Oh, well, I broke into his office looking for intel on the Firthe Scandal, but then Deel broke in around the same time.”

“He can’t break into an office that was his, Oli.”

“Whatever—anyways—Deel was startled so I had to restrain him before he screamed for help. Wasn’t easy though, he’s got long limbs. But I managed to keep him down for a while, threatening him and the other bad guy stuff you can imagine. And then I kissed him.”

“That fast?” Theo’s mildly impressed. Then again, his brother always got what he wanted—no matter what it cost him. “What did he do?”

“Deel kissed me back.”

“Yeah right.” A sharp sigh of disbelief leaves Theo’s lips.

“He did, and it was incredible. Pissed me off though that he was engaged to Thea.”

“I don’t know, they made a pretty good match.” Theo purposely goads his brother; who knew how amusing it'd be to see Oli’s face drop from glee to misery so quickly.

“If Deel didn’t find me, you wouldn’t be with Dee.”

“It’s Delia—and that would have suited me just fine. As I said before, we're not married because we care about each other.” He says aloud, but a pang in his chest says otherwise. He ignores it. “We were detained and drugged, not to mention threatened throughout the whole ordeal. Delia and I could have done with less of that.”

Oli frowns, “Fair point.”

There’s a question that’s nagging at Theo. “Is that the same night you discovered Delius’s secret?”

Oli nods as he looks out the window. “Yeah. It was a handwritten receipt stapled to a stack of printed credit card information. I forgot to turf the evidence before it fell into the wrong hands.” His shoulders slump. “I didn’t mean to be so careless. If I was…you wouldn’t be stuck.”

“Maybe,” Theo shrugs, “But who would keep the evidence in a drawer that was unlocked?”

“It wasn’t locked, I picked it open. I should have locked it back up so one could have found it.”

“Hey,” Theo puts his hand on Oli’s shoulder. “Doesn’t matter now. I recall you doing much worse when we were kids.”

“I mean, there was that one time Gramps caught me in the pantry with a face full of oranges. I had never run so fast, if it wasn’t you for distracting him, I would have gotten quite the clobbering.”

That wasn’t what Theo meant, but it got Oli smiling. Pangs of nostalgia erupt within Theo as he recalls the memories of his childhood. “You weren’t allowed to go orange picking for weeks.”

“A cruel reality I lived for those seven weeks. How dare I be denied nature's bulbous pleasures…”

Theo lets out a chuckle. “I never understood your orange fetish—pumpkins are much more deserving of the title,”

“Is that humour I sense in your voice? Who are you and what have you done with my brother—” Oli reaches over, attempting to ruffle Theo’s hair, but he dodges out of the way before the leaner man can grab a hold of him. Both stop when they hear a man and a woman shouting through the door.

Theo can't recognize the man's voice but the woman is obvious.

“Deel!” Oli says tensely as he reaches for the handle, flinging the door open before shooting out into the hallway. Theo follows suit.

She's going to derail the entire plan if she doesn’t shut up!