A Vow Of Hate by Lylah James

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

THE PAST

 

Julianna

 

 

“You gotta stop staring at your ring,” Gracelynn teased. “Did you even hear anything I said?”

My head snapped up while I rubbed my thumb over the ring. “Huh? Sorry, what did you say?”

Was it possible to grow attached to a ring? It wasn’t because of materialistic reasons. But more because it represented Killian’s love for me. I’ve always dreamed of a fairy-tale romance, and I guessed… I got it.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was my fairy tale, nonetheless. Riddled with more imperfections than what the naked eyes could see, more flaws than the love story I had dreamed – but it was mine.

My sister placed her hands on her hips, giving me a haughty look, but she was grinning. “Oh, wipe that smile off your face. You’re so in love it’s almost cheesy.”

I spun my ring around my finger, feeling the weight of it. “Please, I have to endure you and Simon giving each other heart eyes all the time. Now, that’s cheesy.”

“To be in love,” Gracelyn sighed. “Is such a wonderful feeling. How did we get into such an impossible situation?”

I half-shrugged, the pressure on my chest was back again. Weighing me down. “Did you tell Simon yet?”

“I haven’t but I think he knows. I woke up last night to his head on my stomach.” Her brows furrowed and I hated the look of despair on her face. I knew she was probably thinking about her… plans.

My lips parted and I was ready to tell her to forget her plans and that we would figure something else out. But the knock of my door interrupted us.

“Gracelynn?”

We both flinched at our father’s voice. I bounced off my bed and practically tore my engagement ring off my finger, giving it to my sister.

“Come in,” Gracelynn squeaked, hastily dragging the ring onto her finger. It was slightly too small for her and I could see how tight it was around her finger.

Our father walked in, the air practically crackling with intensity. He was tall, although not as tall as Killian. Bishop Romano walked with a confident stature; his shoulders squared. At the sight of his two daughters together, he gave the rare smile he only reserved for us.

“I heard a rumor. That your fiancé has given you a ring,” Father said, coming to stand in front of Gracelynn. “Let me see so I can judge if he has given my daughter what she is worth.”

Our father grasped Gracelynn’s hand in his and his brows wrinkled. He let out a humph in response. “It’s smaller than what I would expect from a Spencer.”

“It’s perfect,” I said, defensively. Before I could stop myself or think it through. How could he judge Killian’s love for me with just a stone? It wasn’t fair. Killian could have afforded a million-dollar ring easily, with a huge diamond, but he chose to give me this one – because he knew it was what I’d preferred.

Something simple and elegant.

My father shot me a confused glance, but Gracelynn was already clearing her throat, bringing his attention back to her. “I like it,” she said, giving our father a perfect smile.

Even I would have believed her if I didn’t know the truth already.

He cupped her cheek, smiling. “My daughter deserves nothing less than the most expensive stone in the world.”

“Killian knows my preferences,” Gracelynn explained. “This ring is perfect for me.”

“If you say so.” Our father nodded. “I’m proud of you, Gracelynn. To celebrate this engagement, I’m throwing a party next weekend. It is time for the people to know that a Spencer and Romano have been joined together, by blood and loyalty.”

My eyes widened, my heart stuttering at his announcement. Father nodded at both of us before leaving. Gracelynn locked the door behind him and I slumped on the bed, shaking.

“Shit,” I cursed, as my sister came back to me. She handed my ring back, placing it in the middle of my palm. My fingers curled around the diamond ring, keeping it in my fist.

“We need to tell him the truth,” Gracelynn said.

“Father will never accept this marriage. You’re the eldest daughter –”

My sister made an exasperated sound in the back of her throat, before cutting my rambling off. “It doesn’t matter what Dad wants. Killian needs to know the truth and he’ll make the decision.”

All the warmth left my body and I felt cold, as if I had been dumped into a tub of ice. “What if…”

Gracelynn was already shaking her head. “He loves you and he’ll always choose you,” she assured me with such certainty that I almost believed her. “Dad needs this contract marriage. At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter who Killian marries. Me or you. And anyway, you know my plans.”

Her plans… yes, of course.

Her plans would solve our messy situation but…

“How can I convince you to stay?” I whispered. My chest tightened, the ache burrowing deeper under my flesh, into my bones.

Gracelynn sat down beside me on the bed. She curled an arm around my shoulders and I wrapped mine around her waist. She sniffled and tears burned the back of my eyes. “I’m doing it for my baby and Simon,” she said, her voice breaking. “I can’t stay here.”

Bishop Romano would never accept a mere bodyguard as his eldest daughter’s husband. In fact, he would do anything to ruin Gracelynn and Simon’s relationship, if he were to come to know of it.

Simon wasn’t born with a golden spoon in his mouth. In fact, he was an orphan. Simon was common folk while Gracelynn was royalty.

Bishop Romano wasn’t exactly a bad father; he just cared more about his status in high society than his children’s happiness. His heir marrying a bodyguard, without status and without a family’s wealth, would be a disgrace to him. He would never accept such an alliance.

“Is running away really the answer?” I questioned.

“Running away is the only option,” Gracelynn whispered. “Once our father is calmed down and he marries you off to Killian… I’ll send Dad a letter. But I won’t come back until I know he accepts Simon as my love and the father of my baby.”

Gracelynn was able to launder three hundred thousand dollars from her trust fund, without our father noticing thus far. And with Simon’s savings… they had enough to settle down somewhere very far away from here.

I pulled away, swiping at my wet cheeks. I hadn’t even realized that I was crying. “Where do you plan to go?”

My sister shook her head; her grey eyes – identical to mine – were glassy and wet. “I can’t tell you. The less you know, the better it is for both of us. Because the first person dad will question when he finds out I’m gone is you.”

“Is this your final decision?”

“Yes. You’ll have Killian and I’ll Simon and my baby. It’s the best decision for both of us,” she said, resolute and unswerving when it came to her decision.

I grasped her hands in mine, squeezing.

God, I hoped so.

Two days later, Gracelynn walked into my room without knocking, her grey eyes shining with mischief. “A package from Killian,” she said, handing me the small, well-wrapped box. “It was addressed to Gracelynn. But we both knew who Gracelynn was to him. So, I believe this is yours.”

“A gift,” I gasped, taking the package from her and practically tearing through the wrapping. I opened the box, delving through all the muslin papers to find an antique looking hardcover. “Holy shit. Is that?”

My eyes darted to the thick, black spine. I already knew what the title would say, but somehow needed confirmation. When my gaze landed on the bold letters, I let out a barely audible gasp. Too in shock to even make a sound.

Wuthering Heights.

No way! This couldn’t possibly be.

“Woah,” Gracelynn breathed.

My breathing stuttered as I opened the first page, carefully… almost too scared to accidentally rip a page. A paper, folded in half, slid onto my lap and I blinked, confused. A letter? I unfolded it to find Killian’s careful and fine penmanship.

To my wife-to-be,

Two weeks ago, you spoke of your love for Edgar Allan Poe and the Brontësisters. The way your grey eyes shone fierce with such eagerness in that moment, I knew what I had do.

We are engaged to be married, but I realized that while I courted you, there were no presents or flowers. I apologize, Princess.

This is me trying to rectify my shortcomings.

Therefore, here’s my first courting gift to you.

A rare copy of the first American edition of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights.

“It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles,

but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn.”

I remember…

Your fiancé,

Killian Spencer.

My heart thundered in my chest, almost like it was trying to escape through my rib cage.

I had thought Killian was bored while I had talked endlessly about my love for anything classic, especially Edgar Allan Poe and the Brontë sisters. I remembered him staring into my face, without saying a word, just listening. And that had made me pause, thinking that he probably found it annoying, and boring so I had switched the topic to something else.

But…

Killian was truly listening.

“He remembered my… favorite quote from the book. I only told him once, but he remembered,” I whispered, both shocked and pleased.

“Your fiancé is nuts!” my sister exclaimed. “Do you know how much this cost?”

“What?” I looked up to find her staring at her phone, gaping. Gracelynn shook her head, her jaw went slack. She turned her phone toward me, showing me her screen and her recent google search.

“This was up on an auction last week in London. A rare copy of the first edition of Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights,” she explained. “The highest bidder was an American and you know what the bid was? Nine thousand pounds. Which is approximately twelve thousand dollars!”

I gaped. “No,” I breathed, appalled.

“Yes!” Gracelynn declared, before laughing.

“This is too much.” I shook my head, carefully placing the book back into the box.

Gracelynn rolled her eyes and she flicked me on the forehead. “Killian is courting you. Accept the gift. And he’s filthy rich, anyway. He can afford this and much more.”

Yes, but still…

Long after Gracelynn had left the room, I was still staring at the box. There was a phantom of an ache in my chest, delving in my heart and feeding into my soul.

Killian was so thoughtful.

And my deception was poison.

Killian,

Your gift is very thoughtful.

I can’t believe you remember my favorite quote from Wuthering Heights. In fact, I can’t believe you were actually listening to everything I said. I had believed that I bored you with my endless talking about classic poetry and novels.

I miss you, but I know that you’re busy. And now that Coal is well-trained, there’s no reason for you to come to the Romano’s Estate every day. When will we see each other again?

At least once before the party my father is throwing this weekend?

Yours truly,

Your wife-to-be.

A second letter came the next day, bearing another gift.

Five hundred pink ranunculus. Enough to cover every surface of Gracelynn’s room – which should have been my room. But a secret was a secret. To my father, Killian’s fiancée was Gracelynn.

My Gracelynn,

It appears that we won’t see each other until this weekend. My father and I are flying to Chicago tomorrow morning – duty calls, Princess.

Today’s courting gift is ranunculus.

I hope you like this shade of pink. I was able to find a farm where they planted unique flowers. So, I handpicked all five hundred of these ranunculi myself.

The mad things we do when we’re in love…

You’ve enchanted me, Princess.

Your fiancé,

Killian Spencer

The day after that, Killian gifted me a ruby jewelry set – necklace, earrings and bracelet. He said it had been passed down in his family for over a century.

On the fourth day, the present came in a small box, tiny enough to fit in the palm of my hand. Curious, I opened the gift to find a single red hair ribbon. Silky and simple.

With KS stitched in gold, at the end of the ribbon – tiny and almost unnoticeable.

You always wear hair ribbons instead of hair-ties, so I guess you’re fond of them.

Red is for my favorite color.

And KS is because you’re mine.

Your fiancé,

Killian Spencer.

The last day – the day before the party – I got another well-wrapped package. Similar to my first courting gift. I ripped through the wrappings to find another antique hardcover. My legs weakened and I slumped on my bed, too shocked to continue standing.

Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell, a collection of poems by the three Brontë sisters using their pseudonym. The collection was published in 1846.

No way. How did Killian even get a hold of the first edition of this collection?

Out of one hundred original copies, only thirty-nine were sold. While the unsold stock was discarded and later acquired by a publisher who re-issued the collection but with a different title page.

But the one I was holding was the first edition, the original copy… with the original title page. One of the thirty-nine that were sold in 1846. This should have been impossible to acquire.

Killian,

You really shouldn’t have. After doing a quick google search, I found out that you bought this from an auction in London for 95,000 dollars! Are you absolutely insane?

I mean I love it and that was very thoughtful of you. I will treasure this courting gift for the rest of my life, but…

I feel unworthy of such a grand gift. And I haven’t even given you something in return.

Yours truly,

Your wife-to-be.

I didn’t get a reply this time, but it didn’t matter.

I saw Killian the next day.

At our engagement party.