The Glass House Page 9

  "It's nothing. I don't want to talk about it right now."

  "We cannot possibly walk into our appointment this morning unless this is properly dealt with."

  "Why?" she challenged.

  "Elisabeth, I've already explained to you exactly why I'm displeased with your behaviour. Beyond that, we are about to walk into a meeting about our wedding. With my mother. You and I need to be on the same side, and I don't want her to see you upset or in any way distracted. I know her better than you, and I don't want it used against us."

  "She wouldn't really do that," Elisabeth arrogantly replied. Bennett only raised his eyebrow.

  "Sir," the driver said, rolling down the electric window near the front of the limo. "We're just arriving."

  "We won't be going inside until I finish dealing with the little madam. I'll let you know when that is," Bennett said to the driver and then looked back at a further frowning Elisabeth.

  "Thanks very much," she replied.

  Bennett raised his eyebrows. "Right, I've had enough. Back over," he said, pulling her across his lap.

  "No, Sir!"

  "I believe the correct response is 'yes, Sir', since I don't endorse the practise of blatant rudeness."

  Bennett pulled Elisabeth's woollen pea coat and her red velvet pinafore dress up and white tights straight down.

  "Bennett, please," Elisabeth whimpered. "This is a matter of the heart. Please don't smack me."

  Bennett laughed. "I daresay you expect our children to request something so ridiculous and you expect me to give in, do you?"

  Elisabeth sniffed. "That will be different."

  "It isn't any different. You have been rude, abrupt and naughty; girls who behave in that manner get spanked," he said, as he began the punishment all over again.

  The limo stopped outside of Tweed Events Co. and the driver remained where he was behind the wheel with the engine running, looking ahead so as not to invade his employer's privacy.

  Bennett spanked Elisabeth a good twenty more times and then redressed her and pulled her up to sit beside him on the seat again. She was angry and no tears fell down her cheeks as he'd expected. It worried him slightly to see such a frown on her pretty face.

  "Why are you so cross with me? I said I would speak to you, just not during breakfast in public."

  "You seemed quite happy to confide very personal feelings in your Uncle Brayden but not to the man you will soon marry," Bennett replied, straight.

  Elisabeth shook her head. "Really?"

  Bennett's face was enough to tell her she had better get to the point, and quickly.

  "Have you any idea how frustrating it is to hear things second hand?" he asked.

  "I hadn't meant to keep anything from you, Bennett. I was in bed. I was tired. It was a long day, and I'd just watched Uncle Brayden dote on Alice for the hundredth time. Then, he tells me that I'm a good friend to her, and oh, what a good Aunty I'll be. I couldn't handle it. I just broke down and cried for how pathetic my life has been since before you and Uncle Brayden and this whole world I'm still trying to fit into. He was there and I couldn't pretend anymore."

  Bennett frowned slightly, watching her, his heart beating faster. He would probably never admit it, but every time Elisabeth was upset he secretly worried she might leave him. Bennett knew he would never find another girl like her, and he had to measure his authority and strict rules with her feelings. She was the love of his life and that meant ensuring she was looked after and disciplined when she deserved it, but he also had to come down to her level and be the one she confided in without fear of reprimand. It wasn't how he'd expected their relationship to go because he felt he should be rigid at all times but Elisabeth had taught him a lot about love. And if there was anything he had learned about love – it wasn't angry.

  "Pretend what?" Bennett asked.

  "That is doesn't bother me that Alice has a father . . . and I don't," Elisabeth said, her eyes filling with tears.

  Bennett closed his eyes and looked down. "You have a father," he said.

  "Where is he then?" Elisabeth asked, wiping her eyes. "Surely you don't mean the one whom I never see, can't communicate with or even knows I exist anymore. He's dying, Bennett."

  He looked back at her.

  "And don't tell me your father is my father, because he isn't," she said, sniffing.

  "That's not fair, Elisabeth," his face was stone straight.

  "It's not fair that you didn't even ask me who I wanted to give me away at our wedding!"

  "Do not raise your voice to me, Elisabeth. You are upset and there is no harm in that, but if you step out of line this conversation will end with you facing the floor. Explain your frustration to me properly."

  Elisabeth exhaled and leant against the leather seat. "Why would you make that decision for me?" she asked, weakly.

  "Because I didn't want you to be upset that your father couldn't do it," Bennett said, rubbing the bridge of his nose for a moment.

  "I've always known my father would never give me away," she replied, quietly.

  "No bride should ever have to think that," he said, straightening his cufflinks. "I was trying to remove that worry."

  Elisabeth slowly dropped her eyes and stared down at her right leg tucked beneath her pinafore and coat and traced the lines of cable knit patterns with her eyes. She couldn't look up at him, she was too ashamed. That was the second time since they began courting that she had assumed his actions were selfish or overly controlling and she'd misread them completely.

  "I'm sorry," she offered, quietly.

  "Why didn't you phone me last night and tell me all this?" Bennett asked.

  "Because Uncle Brayden was the one who drew it out of me. I hadn't even realised it was bothering me. By that time, I'd said everything and it was lights out, so I had to go to bed. I didn't know he was going to phone you. Now I feel betrayed."

  "Hey," Bennett said, firmly. "Your Uncle Brayden phoned me because I am your fiancé and his rightful response was to inform me of your unhappiness. He did not betray you nor would he ever. If there is any man aside from me who will work tirelessly for your good is it your Uncle Brayden. Do you understand?"

  Elisabeth nodded. "Yes, Sir," she replied, gently.

  "I apologise that I wasn't the one to have had this conversation with you first," Bennett said. "I haven't spoken to my father yet about it, either. I was going to wait, although yes, I had decided I wanted him to give you away because I didn't want you to even consider that nobody would be there to do it. He doesn't have any daughters, and he will soon be your father-in-law so I thought it made sense. However, if you prefer your Uncle Brayden to give you away then I see no reason why he shouldn't. He is the one looking after you and you are clearly very fond of him."

  Elisabeth wiped her eyes and nodded.

  "Would you like Uncle Brayden to do that?"

  Elisabeth shyly nodded again.

  "All right," he said, then kissed her forehead.

  Elisabeth moved forward on the seat and positioned herself in Bennett's lap, cuddling up close to his woollen coat. He put his arms around her and kissed her cheek.

  "Are you done having a strop now, young lady?" he asked, into her ear.

  Elisabeth cracked a smile and looked up at him with demure eyes.

  "You wouldn't want me to have to deal with you in front of my parents would you?" Bennett asked.

  His tone tickled the pit of her stomach, and she turned her face so it was completely hidden in his topcoat. Elisabeth could have melted with the way Bennett's piercing brown eyes, neatly combed hair and cheekbones matched his equally confident and authoritative warning tone.

  "Hmm?" he asked, looking down at her.

  Elisabeth still didn't show her face. She was highly aroused and it was best she didn't entertain the idea – they still had a few months until the wedding.

  "No, Sir," she managed to reply with a hidden smile.

  The driver glanced in his rear-view mirror; he'd never s
een any man deal with an argument in such a way, leaving part of him to feel impressed and the other part a little confused. How on earth Bennett managed to spank his fiancé, hear her out and then cuddle her at the end of it all was a mystery to him, but it had worked. And she wasn't even cross with him. Whatever personal feelings he'd held toward his employer along the lines of Bennett seeming impersonal and unfeeling had been adamantly exchanged for respect.

  * * * * *

  Anabelle Greyson couldn't help but stare at Elisabeth's ring. She'd been distracted for most of their meeting that morning, although, no one would have noticed because the Fowlers and Elisabeth were looking through the design books of chairs, tables, drapery, lights, topiary and floral arrangements and props. It was one of those meetings where Ana needed to be present and available to answer questions, but she was otherwise quite invisible. She reminded herself that she'd been at that table in the parlour countless times before – always the one handing over the design books rather than looking through them herself. She offered a smile in Elisabeth and Bennett's direction as she looked down at her notepad. Elisabeth's ring was beautiful, and Ana guessed right when she thought it cost just as much as the entire wedding. Anabelle wasn't jealous in the least although she wondered if she would ever be the girl wearing the ring, looking through the design book with a man touching her elbow as her scanned the pages with child-like excitement. Despite those lovely things, she wanted a marriage and not just a wedding.

  "Do these chair covers come in ivory?" Evelyn's voice pulled Ana back to the parlour dining table they sat round.

  "Yes." Ana smiled, looking up at her. "They come in any colour you can imagine."

  Evelyn smiled. "That's what I like to hear."

  Jon glanced at his wife and raised an eyebrow.

  "What if instead of having a meal, we did something a little different?" Elisabeth looked at Bennett.

  "What do you have in mind?" he asked.

  "I guess it seems like everybody does the same thing; after the ceremony there is a meal and a dance and cake. It's just a bit… typical."

  Evelyn sat up straighter and forced a smile.

  "I have to admit, I'd quite prefer to have a morning wedding and formal afternoon tea to dinner and a dance."

  Bennett offered a very rare smile, but before he could reply, his mother did.

  "Elisabeth, darling," Evelyn started, with the smile still on her face, although the men in the room knew it was forced. "Weddings are usually in the afternoon. And perhaps we could feed the guests luncheon, at least," she suggested, in an unnaturally light tone. "Everyone loves to dance."

  "I don't," Bennett replied.

  Jon looked at his wife with a straight face, causing Evelyn to frown slightly. She never received looks from him.

  "People will be travelling from several countries; they'll have expectations," Evelyn remarked, looking back at her son. "No one has a morning wedding," she added, although the fake lightness to her tone was becoming more difficult for her to mask. She wasn't amused in the least.

  "I think our wedding will be rather shocking for some, then, Mother," Bennett replied.

  Elisabeth looked away and blinked several times to distract her eyes from producing tears. Anabelle glanced in Elisabeth's direction and then back at Evelyn. She knew not to interfere at that point unless she was directly invited back into the conversation because it was now a family disagreement and nothing to do with the wedding – that was plain as plain.

  Bennett's jaw was set, and he looked back at his mother without any reaction before speaking.

  "I'm not concerned about what everyone else thinks or feels on the day Elisabeth and I marry," he calmly told her.

  "Anabelle, darling, surely in your experience you understand what I'm saying." Evelyn looked at her. Although she wasn't really asking her opinion, she was expecting Anabelle to back her up. Evelyn was using Anabelle's professional experience to fight her own cause.

  Everyone seemed to turn their attention across the table. "It's not really my place to – " Anabelle started.

  "Have you ever organised a morning wedding?" Evelyn interrupted.

  Jonathan looked at the ceiling whilst Bennett rubbed the bridge of his nose. Elisabeth discretely wiped the corner of her eye.

  "Well?" Evelyn pushed, laughing politely at the awkwardness.

  "Enough," Jonathan Fowler said, firmly. He turned to look at his wife. "That's enough."

  Evelyn's face was horrified, but she managed to bite her tongue until they were back in their own limo.

  "You really surprise me at times, Jonathan," she remarked, as soon as the door was closed.

  "That can be interpreted in any number of ways, my darling," Jon replied nonchalantly as he straightened his blazer.

  "It isn't sexual in this case, I assure you," Evelyn shot back.

  "I wouldn't be so silly as to think it was, Dearest." Jon glanced back in her direction.

  "Why must you undermine me in front of our son and his future wife? Weddings happen in the afternoon; the guest list is finished and we need to do a proper three-course meal. I don't understand what is so difficult about that!"

  "It's only difficult for someone who doesn't understand that it isn't her day."

  Evelyn's head snapped over to Jon as she straightened her fur coat. "I beg your pardon?"

  "It's not my pardon you should beg. You will phone Bennett when we get home and apologise to him and Elisabeth for your behaviour. You had no right to make either of them feel as though they need to please you."

  Evelyn's eyes were more unbelieving than before. "I will not phone and apologise for the wedding I'm paying for!" she remarked, her voice turning shrill.

  "That's just it, darling, you're not paying for it. I am. That is, if our son even lets me after the way you just acted." Jon gave his wife another look before he turned to his window.

  Evelyn's mouth remained open as she turned to her own window and folded her arms across her chest. It had been thirty years of Jon's career and family wealth rightfully carrying his wife, but it had been wrongfully assumed that she could make any decision she pleased without his input. Jon was getting to the end of his ever-thinning rope and he only hoped he could put his foot down before it snapped.

  * * * * *

  Elisabeth closed her eyes as they kissed. She loved being right at Bennett's chest, right where his tie and waistcoat met his blazer, his stern jawline and the intoxicating smell of his cologne all in one place. She was sure if she didn't have legs to support her knees, they would give out completely whenever she was that close to Bennett. He always looked down at her with piercing brown eyes going directly into her own, as if he were silently warning her to behave, and it made her weak in unspeakable places. Parts of her organs always felt as though they were melting, breaking off or becoming dislodged whenever Bennett looked at her for too long. He just had that way about him.

  When Bennett pulled away, he rested his forehead against Elisabeth's with his hands about the waist of her adorable pinafore.

  "I'm sorry about Mother," he told her, quietly. "She was out of order."

  Elisabeth would have flopped over but for Bennett's strong embrace.

  "Your father should deal with her," she replied, equally as quietly as she looked up at him, their noses touching.

  "Now, now," Bennett said, quietly again. His tone practically floored her. "You don't speak about your elders like that."

  Elisabeth was still recovering from nearly crying in the meeting with Anabelle and the Fowlers, but with Bennett holding her in his arms, his gentlemanly stature, scent and tone was whisking her right out of that disappointment.

  "I don't want to wait."

  Bennett pulled his head up so he looked at her properly. "The wedding?" he asked.

  Elisabeth bit her lip, causing Bennett to raise an eyebrow.

  "No," he said, looking right at her. "It won't mean anything on our wedding night. Naughty girl."

  Elisabeth nodded and loo
ked down. "Sorry."

  "It doesn't mean I don't want to. It means you're worth it, and I'm strong enough to wait," he said, before he kissed her again.

  Elisabeth slid her hands inside of his blazer, around his waistcoat and sprawled her fingers across the small of his back. She would have easily given herself away to Bennett right then and there if he had no integrity, but she was even more in love with him for putting the boundary between them until their wedding night. Bennett held her in such high regard that the practise of restraint was as gallant and touching as any true love could demonstrate.

  "Now then, back in the limo. We need to see your parents today as well."

  Elisabeth didn't want to see her parents. She didn't want to be reminded of how unable they were. Being at Waldorf, around the Fowlers and near other people who were holistically healthy and independent, had made her somewhat averse to her former circumstances. In the beginning, she missed them terribly and felt nothing but a cloud of guilt waiting to rain down on her, but since realising she never would have met Bennett and had a chance to live a life of her own, it only made their visits more difficult.

  She knelt beside her father's armchair, the one he'd been in since she could remember, signing into his hand. He didn't respond the way he used to. In fact, it began to feel like he was ignoring her.

  "Dad, stop acting stupid. I know you understand me. You taught me to sign!" She formed the letters into the palm of his hand. Elisabeth frowned as she waited for him to reply. Bennett was across the lounge with one of the nurses, chatting. She glanced over at him and then back at her dad.

  "D-a-d," Elisabeth emphasised slowly and deliberately into his palm once again.

  He turned his head and brought his hand with him to rest across his circular tummy. Elisabeth rolled her eyes and stood up over him.

  "Be that way then, I don't know why I even bother anymore," she signed and spoke simultaneously. She didn't care if he was deaf, she said it out loud anyway.

  "Hey," Bennett said, leaving the nurse. He shook his head. "Do not speak to your father that way."

  "He doesn't understand!" Elisabeth looked up at Bennett with angry eyes.

  Bennett glanced down at her father, pathetically withdrawn in his lounge chair. "That makes it worse."