Chapter Twenty-One

As Drake made his way through the bustling crowd of guests, he couldn't shake off the guilt that weighed heavy on his mind. He had left Lydia alone with the other bridesmaids, knowing all too well how vicious and catty they could be. But he had to speak with his father before dinner, while he still had a moment of peace. He knew as soon as dinner began, he'd be swept up by society and expected to fill his obligations as his brother's best man. The air was thick with chatter and laughter, but Drake's thoughts were elsewhere as he navigated through his family home, the sound of champagne glasses clinking and high heels clicking in the background. He knew he was taking a risk leaving Lydia alone, but he couldn't ignore this chance to have a much-needed conversation with his father.

Drake wanted answers. He wanted to know why he'd never been given Amelia's letter. He also wanted to know if there was any truth to his memory, or if it was just the memory of a child who had an overactive imagination. He'd thought he'd seen the blood in the foyer, the night before Amelia had disappeared. If it really had been blood...well Drake didn't want to think about that right now. Right now, he just wanted answers. He paced outside his father's study, trying to cool his emotions. He couldn't go in there fire blazing demanding answers. He had to be sly about the way he questioned his father.

He stood outside the mahogany door, his hand hovering over the brass doorknob. With a shaky breath, he rapped twice on the polished surface before slowly turning the knob and entering his father's study.

As soon as he walked in, his father greeted him with a simple "Drake."

Drake didn't respond, his face set in a determined frown. He strode across the room, his steps heavy with purpose, until he reached his father's imposing white oak desk. With a sharp exhale, he dropped the glimmering bracelet and crumpled letter on top of the polished surface. Stepping away from the desk, he studied his father's expression, as Gregory took in the items, trying to gauge his reaction. He caught a brief glimpse of concern, but it disappeared too quickly for him to be sure it that was actually what he'd seen.

"What's this?" Gregory sneered, looking at the letter as if it was a piece of trash, and the bracelet like it was just a tarnished heap of metal.

"It's Amelia's bracelet, Robert." Drake spat, his anger raging through his body, "And a LETTER that she left for ME!"

"And?" Gregory asked his nostrils flaring in annoyance.

"Kevin found it in the attic. Mind telling me why it wasn't given to me?" Drake's lips pulled back, baring his teeth in a fierce snarl. His eyes narrowed to slits as he fixed a seething gaze on his father.

"Because," Gregory sighed, his head resting in his hand as he rubbed his temples in exaggerated frustration, "Your relationship with Amelia was inappropriate, son. She was twenty-five and you were fourteen. She tried to take advantage of you because you were the heir to the Alston fortune. Your mother and I, we'd fired her that night. She decided to play the innocent, I'm scared card to try to sway you over to her side."

"How dare you call my relationship with Amelia, inappropriate. I WASN'T THE ONE FUCKING HER, GREGORY! That was you," Drake seethed, his nostrils flaring as he slammed his hands down on his father's desk, the letter crumpling beneath his palm.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Gregory snarled, his voice rising in pitch as well, almost the same octave as Drake's, "How dare you insinuate that my relationship was anything other than appropriate with that little slut of a nanny."

"I'm not insinuating anything, Gregory. I saw you. I saw you with her that night you beat the shit out of Kevin. So tell me father, does hitting little boys turn you on? Does it make you feel like a big bad man?"

"WHY YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BASTARD!"

Gregory let out an angry growl, rising to his feet to confront his son directly.

Unfortunately for Gregory and possibly for Drake too, Gregory's office wasn't sound proof, and Lydia had heard the entirety of their conversation. Well at least starting from when Drake had shouted that he had not been the one screwing Amelia.

"Unfortunately, I know who my father is," Drake chortled sarcastically, "Pray tell me father, are you also the father of Amelia's child? Did you make her disappear to hide you infidelities?"

Lydia let out a startled gasp, a quickly covered her mouth, hoping that the men inside the study hadn’t heard her. She couldn’t believe that they were talking about Amelia! Drake’s childhood nanny Amelia. She wanted nothing more than to stick around and listen, but a noise coming down the hall, made her move away from the door. She didn’t want to be caught eavesdropping.

“Good God, Lydia!” Diane hissed as she rounded the corner, spotting a drenched Lydia. “Are you trying to embarrass this family?”

“My deepest apologies, Diane. One of society’s finest, thought her drink would be better of, on me, than in her glass.” Lydia grinned, batting her eyelashes. She probably looked like a maniac but she really could care less. Her patience was waning with Diane. It was barely existent. She needed to part ways with her before she exploded.

“Wait, who did what?” Drake asked, walking out of his father’s study. Apparently Diane and Lydia’s conversation had interrupted his argument with his father.

“It was nothing, Drake. Really.” Lydia replied flushing red. She didn’t want Drake to think she couldn’t take of herself, when he wasn’t around. She didn’t want him to feel like he had to shield her. “I…errr… I bumped into one of the bridesmaids and her drink spilled on me. I was just heading up to our room so I could change real quick before dinner.”

“I see,” Drake responded stiffly, not believing Lydia’s story one bit as he bypassed Diane and took Lydia’s hand in his, “Well, I’ll escort you there then, Princess.” He smirked charmingly.

Diane looked like she wanted to vomit. “Please make sure she looks suitable, Drake.” She snarled, rolling her eyes at the duo before she entered into his father’s study.

“Shove it, Diane!” Drake hollered loud enough for his mother to hear, before he pulled Lydia down the hall and into his bedroom.

Leading her into his bathroom, he locked the door behind them. This time, there would be no distractions. He lifted Lydia onto the counter and stood between her legs, making sure she was face to face with him. “Why did you lie to me?” he asked, staring into her eyes as he reached off to the side and grabbed a hand towel.

“Because I didn’t want you to worry even more.” Lydia replied biting her lip as Drake ran the hand towel under warm water, “I…I overheard your conversation with your father, Drake. You have a lot on your plate already. I didn’t want to burden you even further.”

Drake raised the towel to Lydia’s face and gently blotted it against her skin, trying to clear away the smeared makeup without ruining what was left. “What all did you hear?” he asked quietly.

“Enough to know that your father was having an affair with the nanny, and that Amelia was pregnant.” Lydia replied, taking the towel from Drake and setting it onto the counter beside them. “What else is going on, Drake?” She asked, reaching her hand up to cup his cheek, “You know you can talk to me. I’m here to support you.”

Drake was quiet for a moment and Lydia thought that that was the end of their conversation. She started to shift, getting ready to push herself off the counter, when Drake’s hands snaked around her waist keeping her there. “I… I think he had something to do with Amelia’s sudden disappearance.” Drake whispered, voicing his concern.

Lydia wanted to ask more. She needed to know why Drake suspected his father had anything to do with Amelia’s disappearance but before she could, Drake spoke again. “But, we can’t talk about this here. I promise that I’ll tell you more later. Okay?”

Lydia nodded her head in agreement. She could live with that. She knew that Drake was worried. Especially if his father actually did have something to do with Amelia’s disappearance. Because if Gregory did have something to do with Amelia, then they were in the very pit of the snake’s den and there could be spies everywhere.

“Oh, and Lydia,” Drake smiled, picking the towel back up and blotting at the stains on her dress, “I’m never to busy for you, Darling.” He stated leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss on her lips. He pulled back and gave her a quick once over, “Perfect. Good as new.”

Lydia risked a moment to check her appearance in the mirror. Drake had done a thorough job of cleaning her up; she couldn't even tell that a drink had been thrown at her earlier.

“Alright, ready to go see what Kevin’s news is?” Drake asked, offering Lydia his hand and unlocking the bathroom door.

“With you by my side, Drake, I’m ready for anything.”