Chapter 2 - THE WRONG BRIDE
Nobody moved.
Not Margaret.
Not the priest.
Not one of Cassian’s armed men.
Lydia could hear rain striking the chapel roof and the faint ticking of the wall clock behind the altar.
Cassian waited.
Margaret recovered first.
“This is absurd.”
Cassian did not look at her.
“I asked Lydia.”
“She agreed to help after Evelyn became overwhelmed.”
Lydia almost laughed.
Instead, she looked at Margaret.
That was enough.
Cassian saw it.
His jaw tightened.
“Everyone out.”
Margaret stiffened. “Cassian—”
“Everyone except Lydia and Margaret.”
The priest disappeared first.
The armed men followed without argument.
When the chapel doors closed, Cassian walked toward a side table and poured himself a glass of water.
He did not drink it.
He simply stood there holding it.
“Try again,” he said.
Margaret’s voice sharpened.
“You are humiliating me over a domestic misunderstanding.”
Cassian finally looked at her.
“A woman came to my wedding wearing another woman’s dress, shoes that don’t fit her, and the expression of someone walking toward an execution.”
His eyes dropped briefly to Lydia’s hands.
“That is not a misunderstanding.”
Lydia swallowed.
Margaret turned toward her.
“Think carefully.”
Three quiet words.
They were worse than shouting.
Lydia thought of Helen’s medications lined up beside the kitchen sink.
The oxygen machine beside her chair.
The cottage where Lydia had grown up after her father died.
Cassian noticed her hesitation.
“What happens if you tell me?”
Lydia said nothing.
“What did she threaten?”
Margaret stepped forward.
“Enough.”
Cassian’s voice changed.
“Margaret.”
Just her name.
She stopped.
Lydia pressed her palms together.
“My mother lives in one of the employee cottages.”
Cassian’s eyes stayed on hers.
“She’s sick. Heart disease. Arthritis. The Aldridges help pay for treatments insurance doesn’t cover.”
Margaret spoke quietly.
“We have always been generous to Helen.”
Lydia turned on her.
“You told me she’d lose the cottage.”
“I said the family could no longer guarantee assistance if you refused to help us.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“No,” Margaret replied. “It isn’t.”
Cassian set the untouched glass down.
“Actually, it’s worse.”
Margaret looked at him.
He reached inside his jacket and removed his phone.
“The employee cottages were included as collateral when Aldridge Development refinanced fourteen months ago.”
Margaret’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But Lydia saw it.
Cassian continued.
“My company purchased the note in March.”
Lydia stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Margaret cannot remove your mother from that cottage without my approval.”
For the first time that day, Lydia felt something inside her chest loosen.
Then Margaret smiled.
Small.
Controlled.
“You don’t control her cardiologist.”
The relief vanished.
Cassian looked at her for several seconds.
Then he lifted his phone.
“Dr. Samuel Pritchard.”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed.
Cassian continued.
“Cardiology. Columbia Presbyterian. He treated my uncle after his bypass.”
He looked at Lydia.
“Your mother’s medical expenses are covered starting today.”
Lydia blinked.
“No.”
Cassian’s eyebrows lifted.
“I don’t take charity.”
“It isn’t charity.”
“What is it?”
“Damage control.”
Margaret gave a humorless laugh.
“How noble.”
Cassian ignored her.
Lydia folded her arms.
“You don’t even know me.”
“No.”
“And ten minutes ago you thought you were marrying somebody else.”
“No.”
That answer stopped her.
Cassian reached into the inside pocket of his jacket again.
This time, he removed a folded piece of cream-colored paper.
“I never believed I was marrying Evelyn today.”
Margaret went completely still.
Cassian handed the paper to Lydia.
The handwriting was elegant.
Lydia had seen it hundreds of times on shopping lists and notes Evelyn left for the household staff.
Cassian—
If I am gone before the ceremony, do not trust the explanation my mother gives you.
Do not punish the woman she sends in my place.
Especially if that woman is Lydia Carter.
Lydia read the last line twice.
Her stomach tightened.
“How did Evelyn know?”
“That,” Cassian said, “is what I’d like to understand.”
Margaret grabbed for the paper.
Cassian moved it out of reach.
“When did she send this?” Lydia asked.
“Three weeks ago.”
“You’ve been speaking to Evelyn?”
“Through encrypted messages.”
Margaret looked genuinely shocked.
Cassian turned toward her.
“She contacted me four months ago.”
“Why?”
“She said someone inside the Aldridge family was moving money through Vale companies without my knowledge.”
Margaret’s face hardened.
“That is ridiculous.”
“She also said she had proof.”
“What proof?”
Cassian’s gaze narrowed.
“She called it the Black Ledger.”
For the first time, Margaret looked afraid.
Lydia noticed.
So did Cassian.
Margaret recovered quickly.
“My daughter has always had a flair for drama.”
“Then why did your hand start shaking?”
Margaret looked down.
Her right hand had indeed begun to tremble.
She closed it into a fist.
Lydia stared at her.
“Where is Evelyn?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she run from Cassian?”
“I said I don’t know.”
Cassian took a slow breath.
“Then we have three problems.”
Lydia almost laughed.
“Only three?”
“Evelyn is missing. Someone wanted this wedding to proceed anyway. And someone knew Margaret would choose you.”
He looked directly at Lydia.
“That means you were part of this before you ever put on that dress.”
A chill ran through her.
“I wasn’t part of anything.”
“I believe you.”
That somehow frightened her more.
Margaret walked toward the doors.
“This wedding is over.”
Cassian’s voice stopped her.
“No.”
She turned.
He looked at Lydia.
“But no one is getting married today.”
Lydia stared at him.
Something unreadable crossed Margaret’s face.
Cassian continued.
“If Lydia walked out wearing that dress as my rejected bride, anyone watching the Aldridges would know something went wrong. If Evelyn uncovered what she claimed, that could make Lydia and Helen targets.”
Lydia’s heartbeat quickened.
“What are you suggesting?”
“You leave publicly with me.”
Margaret’s mouth tightened.
Cassian added, “No vows. No marriage certificate. No deception between us.”
“And privately?”
“You stay at my estate until your mother can be moved somewhere secure.”
Lydia shook her head immediately.
“I’m not becoming your prisoner.”
“You’ll have your own room. Your own key. A car whenever you want it.”
“You have armed men everywhere.”
“They work for me.”
“That isn’t comforting.”
For the first time, the corner of Cassian’s mouth almost moved.
“Fair.”
Then Lydia felt something hard against her ankle.
She frowned.
The dress hem had been scratching her skin since Margaret forced her into it.
Now she realized something had been sewn inside.
“What is it?” Cassian asked.
Lydia bent down.
A small tear had opened along the inner seam.
She pulled gently.
Something silver slid into her hand.
An old wristwatch.
Heavy.
Oval-faced.
The leather strap had cracked with age.
Cassian’s expression changed instantly.
He crossed the distance between them.
“Where did you get that?”
“It was inside the dress.”
Margaret whispered, “Impossible.”
Cassian took the watch carefully.
For the first time since entering the chapel, his hands were not completely steady.
“You recognize it,” Lydia said.
He turned the watch over.
On the back was a tiny engraving.
C.V.
Cassian closed his eyes.
“My mother wore this every day of her life.”
Lydia looked at Margaret.
Margaret had gone pale.
Cassian pressed one thumbnail beneath the rear casing.
The cover opened.
Inside was a tiny folded photograph.
Cassian removed it.
Three women stood beside a warehouse overlooking the Hudson.
One was much younger, but unmistakable.
Margaret Aldridge.
Beside her stood an elegant dark-haired woman Lydia had never seen.
And on the other side—
Lydia stopped breathing.
“My mother.”
Helen Carter looked barely twenty-five.
Cassian flipped the photograph over.
Someone had written six words across the back.
HELEN CARTER KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED.
Underneath was a location.
PIER 19.
Cassian lifted his eyes to Lydia.
His face had lost every trace of calm.
“Lydia.”
She could barely answer.
May you like
“What?”
“My mother died at Pier 19.”
