The Fool Ch. 06

Sinclair stood in silence and let her go. He'd finally pushed her too far, he realised. He knew how distressed she was at his parents' house when she couldn't leave, and then he had turned her joke into an argument this morning and turned his back on her for the rest of the day. He could see how she must have felt like a bird in a gilded cage being unable to come and go as she wanted, both here and on the island.

He was impressed that she had found a way to save herself from the situation she found herself in when friends who acted more like family had shown up and judged her without getting to know her. He was relieved that she had said that she hadn't turned her back on their plans, and with the appearance of bodyguards all of the rational arguments he would have made about her leaving had died on his lips. The irrational emotional arguments had swelled in his chest, even as he acknowledged that they were the last thing she wanted to hear. The fact was that she didn't believe he had real feelings for her, and with their relationship built on mutual need rather than romance, he could see why she didn't believe him. His mind worked over how his plans had spiralled out of his control since the shooting as he walked back into the dining room to his friends. He looked at Stella and tilted his head.

"I believe her exact words were: "Tell that bitch in there that insulting your girlfriend as soon as she meets them is probably not a good way to start a friendship," he chuckled. "And that she neither needs nor wants help curating my collection. Then she mentioned that if you want to be a lady of the manor here, you can have at it," he said, pulling no punches Stella needed to know that Carrie was a lot smarter and stronger than she looked.

"I knew it was an act," Christopher grumbled. "That girl has two degrees and speaks four languages. What did you do? Call her stupid or something? No one acts that vapid unless trying to prove a point."

"As if she has two degrees. You always exaggerate everything, Chris, she's just a baby. How old is she, Sin, twenty-one or two? You're robbing the cradle, don't you think?" Stella dismissed her husband's questions.

"I believe she got her first degree in Art History when she was sixteen," Sinclair said helpfully. "Her mother employed the best tutors from around the world from the time she was about three. She never got to go to school or have holidays, she studied and she trained her whole life, and, unsurprisingly, she is intimidated by more worldly people. She doesn't like to feel different or judged because she doesn't always understand the social niceties involved with different people, and is smarter than most of the people she meets."

"You did call her stupid, didn't you?" Christopher accused his wife.

"No, I merely suggested she look into her own history before pretending to be an expert on the Mansvelt's," she said indignantly. "I'll apologise when she comes back."

"She's gone, she had some friends come to pick her up," he smiled sadly, surprised at how much her walk out hurt him. "Don't worry, I messed up long before you got here today," Sinclair admitted.

"Well, go after her, you idiot. It's obvious you don't want her to go!" Christopher said urgently. "Come on, I'll drive."

"Let her go," Stella said. "It's like that saying, if she comes back she's yours, if she doesn't she never was."

"Shut up, Stella! Haven't you done enough damage? She was quite happy to stick it out here until you judged and condemned her based on her age, gender and, no doubt, family history, which she had nothing to do with," Christopher turned on his wife.

"You heard Sin. She made her plans long before we arrived," she waved away her husband's anger.

"Amara," Christopher raised his voice slightly, but knew the woman wouldn't be too far away. When she came into the room, he asked, "Did Miss Ward make any calls today after she arrived, or ask for the network password?"

"Yes, Davis," she answered, using only his surname.

"Was that before or after her conversation with my wife?" he asked.

"After speaking with Mrs. Davis she went to her room and asked for the password on the way, she did not come down until you returned with Mansvelt," Amara spoke truthfully.

"Did she make any plans for tomorrow? Give you a menu or anything?" Christopher asked.

"Not with me. I was not friendly to her, but she did make plans to visit a girl from the hospital that she spoke to up on the cliff this morning," Amara added.

"Tell me, Amara, did you hear my wife speaking with Miss Ward today?" he asked, seeing her drop her eyes and nod. "And Miss Ward went to her room straight after that conversation and stayed there until we arrived home?" Again Amara nodded, not adding any further information. "Thank you, you may go now," Christopher finally said.

"It was nothing, honestly. Carrie even thanked me for my advice before going up to her room," Stella said, feeling the weight of what she had done settle on her.

"I wonder who it was that spoke to her up on the cliff?" Sinclair frowned.

"One way to find out, let's go for a walk," Christopher glared at his wife. "You need to let it go. I warned you not to do this." The fury emanating from Christopher was palpable, and Sinclair raised his eyebrow at him before looking at Stella, who couldn't meet his eyes.

"Seems everyone knows Edith except me, I might have to remedy that soon," Sinclair said seriously. "Let's walk, my friend," he said, and led Christopher out of the house.

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