Page 62 of Cross My Heart
“Look at you, so official.”
I glance up from my screen to find Max’s fiancé, Annabelle, is planted in front of me, wearing a chic shearling jacket over designer jeans with a megawatt smile on her face. “Annabelle,” I blink, surprised. “Hi, what are you doing here? You don’t work here, too?”
“Me? No,” she giggles. “I heard you’d been conscripted and decided to swing by and take you to lunch. I know the cutest little place nearby,” she adds, “The fried courgette chips will change your life. Come on,” she beckons, “I already told Hugh I’m stealing you for an hour.”
She waves across the room at Hugh, who waves back at us, even though he’s on the phone. He gestures to go, giving a thumbs up.
“I guess, if it’s OK with him…” I reply, realizing it’s a great chance to get some gossip about Max and the group. Annabelle seems like a social butterfly—and chatty. And if there is some secret society lurking in the shadows of Oxford, Lady Annabelle deWessops seems like a prime candidate for membership.
“Good! Because I don’t take ‘No’ for an answer,” she adds, beaming, as I collect my things and follow her out. “Just ask Max. He said there was no way I was having a horse-drawn carriage to take me to the cathedral, but now it’s all arranged. If you close one eye and sort of squint, it’s just like the one Meghan rode in when she married H—Harry,” she adds, seeing my blank expression. “But all his friends call him H.”
“You know Prince Harry?” I blink, as we stroll the busy street towards a small park area.
“Obviously.” Annabelle says, breezy. “One of my cousins hooked up with him. Before Megs, of course. She looked so gorgeous on her wedding day. I wish we could have booked St. George’s Chapel too, but even the Lancasters couldn’t swing that. Royals only.”
“I thought Cyrus Lancaster was more powerful than any of them.” I say, remembering his stony stare. I shiver.
“You’ve met him then?” Annabelle says, seeing my reaction. “He gave me the willies, too, but he’s a sweetheart, really.” She pauses. “OK, maybe not a sweetheart, but he’s not as scary as he makes himself out to be. If you just forget about all that power and his ruthless reputation, it’s fine! The man plays a mean game of tennis.”
I try not to laugh, imagining a situation where I might wind up trading backhands with the most powerful man in media.
“Good to know,” I manage to say through my smile.
“Ooh, here we are,” Annabelle exclaims, coming to a stop outside a restaurant with a shady patio right off the park. “They have amazing vegan food. I’m in fittings right now, and I need to keep my measurements for my dress!”
She launches into an excited monologue about the wedding plans as we’re shown to a table, and barely pauses for breath right up until I’m halfway through my salad. “… Of course, the hen-do will be nothing compared to the stag. That’s the bachelorette and bachelor parties,” she translates for me. “Although God knows what Max and his boys will get up to. That man can find a wild scandal on a sleepy Wednesday afternoon, never mind when it’s his final night of freedom.”
Finally, I see an opening for my investigations.
“It seems like they get up to some crazy things,” I agree, fibbing now. “Saint was telling me about some of the parties Max hosts at Lancaster Manor…”
“Oh my god, right?” Annabelle laughs, sipping her mimosa. “Just the best time.”
“And then there’s the secret society events….” I add impulsively. I give her a knowing look, like I’m in on the secret already. “Those sound pretty scandalous, too.”
I mentally cross my fingers, hoping she takes the bait.
“Secret society?” Annabelle asks, freezing.
“Whoops,” I give a little laugh. “Sorry, I know it’s supposed to be a secret.” I drop my voice to a confidential whisper. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”
Annabelle gives a nervous little giggle. “Well, obviously I don’t know anything about a secret society.”
“Obviously,” I agree, still acting like I know everything already. “It’s just that Saint said you… No, never mind.”
“What did he say?” Annabelle leans in, curious.
“No, you were right,” I insist. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it. What you guys all get up to, it’s none of my business.” I smile, and take a sip of my drink, watching carefully for her reaction.
Annabelle pauses, and picks at her food, and then looks over at me. “Things must be getting serious with Saint,” she says slowly, as if assessing me with fresh eyes. “It sounds like the two of you are getting close.”
“Oh, you know…” I give a vague shrug. “That man is an enigma. And I’m pretty sure he likes it that way,” I add.
Annabelle smiles. “Typical Saint,” she agrees. “I suppose legacy is a gift to him. A gift, and a sworn bond.”
She says the cryptic words slowly, deliberately, meeting my eyes.
I blink. “Right,” I answer, shivers spreading through me. There they are again: the words on the mysterious note. Scribbled in the corner of Saint’s photograph. A motto, Lara said. And now Annabelle’s repeating it in answer to my questions about the secret society. It’s all connected.