Page 43 of Canvas of Lies (Spruce Hill #3)

Chapter Thirty-Four

Kat

T hough the bathtub was as spacious and extravagant as I remembered, the reality of spending the night in my childhood home leaned more toward disconcerting.

My body relaxed in the hot water, but my mind could not.

Memories of this house pummeled against my heart like hail, images of endless summer days exploring with Nico, of hiding in the kitchen to chat with Pierre, of the rare occasions when my father had spoken to me like a human rather than an inconvenience.

I let them fall until the deluge slowed to a trickle, leaving my chest aching.

When I finally got out and dressed again, I had a text from Nico that he was back from fetching our clothes and waiting downstairs in the library. I trudged slowly down the main stairs to find him, attempting to view the house with an objective eye .

Aside from Beardsley, who steadfastly refused to even think of leaving us to our own devices, I’d asked him to inform the rest of the staff they’d be given the week off with full pay.

They were all lovely people, but the thought of being fawned over in the way my father had so enjoyed made my skin crawl.

How had he ever tolerated living here in this mansion by himself?

It was bad enough walking through these cavernous halls, past collectibles and other artwork that could feed a family for a month, just to get to the kitchen so we could scrounge for dinner.

As a child, I definitely hadn’t understood the wealth surrounding me—now, it weighed on me like a lead apron.

Nico’s smile when I poked my head around the doorway lightened the load enough for me to breathe freely, at least. He set aside a book and rose from a wingback chair, slipping his hand around mine.

It was like curling up under a security blanket, comforting and familiar, and I was so thankful for his presence that I had to blink back tears.

He hesitated at the doorway of the kitchen, his eyes scanning the shining stainless steel appliances and spotless countertops.

This had been his father’s domain, the playground of so many of our earliest memories together.

It looked different now, familiar and yet altered.

I hadn’t spent as much time in this part of the house in later years, but I leaned my head against his shoulder.

“The new chef made some changes, I see,” I murmured .

I could hear the thickness in his throat when he said, “Yeah, it sure looks that way. Come on, let’s find something to eat. I’m sure your father wasn’t living on frozen pizzas.”

The fridge was well-stocked and organized with care, a fact for which my empty stomach was immensely grateful. We found foil containers of leftovers from some recent event, grabbed silverware, and, by silent mutual accord, wandered out the back doors onto the patio to eat.

Side by side, we sat in lounge chairs and stared out into the autumn twilight.

The cottage where Nico and his father had lived was just visible through the trees.

The current chef wouldn’t have any trouble finding a new position, I knew.

Oddly, it seemed more bizarre to imagine a stranger living in the cottage than to envision myself moving into this giant house.

It would simply feel like a hotel to me for the duration of the six months, but the cottage had been a true home, once.

I’d need to find a good finance manager to help me provide all the staff members with generous severance packages, maybe some kind of recruiter to help them find new positions.

There was certainly no need for an army of employees to flutter around me for the foreseeable future, but I wouldn’t leave a single one of them hanging.

They deserved better, after dealing with my father.

When he laid his empty carton aside, Nico stretched out his long legs and rolled his head along the cushion behind him to look at me. “Your mom was pretty pissed, huh? ”

I snorted. “Leaving her that piece of junk painting was a particularly snarky touch, even for my father.”

“Not entirely undeserved, though,” Nico replied, grinning.

“Not at all undeserved, from where I’m sitting. I could almost be impressed, if his games hadn’t put me in the middle of all of it. But her husband gives me the creeps. I hope they fly home soon.”

He raised a brow. “You think she’ll try to guilt you into a payoff or something?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I said grimly. “As it stands, she ignored my existence for most of my life. I figure I can ignore hers for six months. Will you be upset when I donate every last cent from the sale of this ridiculous place to charity?”

“Not even a little. Are you sorry I came hurtling back into your life?” Nico smoothed his thumb across my cheekbone.

There was a certain softness in my chest when I smiled and said, “Not even a little.” I pressed my face into his hand. “I—Nico, you don’t have to stay here, if you don’t want to. You didn’t sign up for this. I know this place holds a lot of bad memories for you.”

He shook his head. “No more than it does for you. If you think I’m the kind of asshole who would leave you alone here to deal with all this by yourself, you are most definitely mistaken. You’re stuck with me now.”

“There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with. Let’s go pick a bedroom.” I rose and tugged his hand until he came to his feet .

“We’re not going to reclaim your childhood room? There goes every high school fantasy I ever had,” Nico muttered.

“You know, your perception of that time and my own are lightyears apart, Beaumont.”

He slid his arm around my waist and nuzzled my neck. “I’d say blame your father, but that seems a little callous at this particular point in time.”

I laughed softly and pulled him along with me into the house. The curving staircase in the center of the foyer led to our first choice: left or right. The wing to the right included the master suite and, at the far end of the hall, my childhood bedroom. Without hesitation, I turned left.

We peeked into the rooms one by one. The first had been turned into a den of sorts, featuring a brown pullout sofa and a television that was unimpressive even by my low standards. Over the ragged sofa, an autographed baseball bat hung on the wall.

“Man cave?” Nico mused. “I would’ve imagined a big screen TV and surround sound.”

“You and me both,” I muttered.

The second and third doors led to guest suites with queen beds and tasteful but generic color schemes. I found I had no real preference—it really was like looking at hotel rooms. Though I’d teased Nico about his apartment, at least its minimalism came across as a conscious choice.

“I guess the choices are burgundy or navy,” I said with a wry smile .

The navy accents belonged to the room at the far end of the hall and thus farthest from the room I’d grown up in, so Nico nodded his head toward that door. “Navy. I love you in every shade of blue. Especially naked, with your hair all spread out around you.”

I scoffed a little, but the heat in my cheeks told him the comment had done its job. Knowing him as I did, his goal for the next few days would be distracting me from the fact that we were sleeping in my father’s house.

It would be a tall order.

Flopping down on my back across the bed, I stared up at the ceiling and wondered why we were even here.

I’d shoved the letter from my father into my pocket, content to forget about it as long as possible, but now its presence was a burning reminder that the man was still manipulating us from beyond the grave.

With a huff, I pulled it out and stared at the spidery Katherine across the front.

“Are you ready to read it?” Nico asked, perching on the edge of the bed beside me.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready, so we might as well get it over with, right?”

“Do you want me to stay while you read it? If you want privacy, I can go get the bags.”

I didn’t want privacy, but I had no idea what the letter might say, so I said, “Go ahead, but you don’t have to stay away while I read it. It’s affecting you, too.”

Nico bent down to kiss my forehead and left me to open the envelope while he fetched our bags from the downstairs hall.

Katherine,

I’ve made a number of enemies throughout my career, so as a precaution, I’ve updated my will regularly over the years. This house and everything in it would always have been yours, and while I’m sure you’re fuming over the stipulations of your inheritance, I have my reasons.

Even as a toddler, you had a mind of your own. I might not have been involved in your life, but I’ve kept tabs. I could not be more proud of the way you’ve forged your own path and succeeded in a way that is so uniquely your own.

I know six months is a lot to ask of you, but I hope to make it worth your sacrifice.

In the attic, you will find a collection of antique toys and games I have come across since you left home, some in need of repair, others in good condition.

You didn’t need my help, nor do I expect you ever would have asked for it, but consider this recompense for how my choices have negatively impacted your life.

Should you choose to abandon the house before the six months is up, Wallace will contact an auction house and all proceeds will be donated to Path of Hope in your name, but they won't have your level of expertise in assessing the collection in the attic.

Love, Your father

Sometime during my reading, Nico had returned, but he sat silently on a chest at the foot of the bed. I met his curious, concerned gaze and a choked laugh burst from my lips. I rolled off the bed, handed him the letter, and moved to the window as he read it.

Not for the first time, it seemed like a trap, like a move too kind-hearted to really have come from the father I thought I knew.

My feelings were tangled and conflicted—I wasn’t ready to mourn him, not when he’d done so much to hurt the man I loved, but all the what-ifs, the possibilities of some kind of reconciliation, had been cut off at the root.

I let out a slow breath and stared out into the distance.

Like my old room, this one was at the back of the house, with a view of the trees and gardens where we had played hide and seek as children.

In the distance, its bulk hidden by the twilight, the peak of the Spruce Hill Lighthouse rose above everything else along the shore.

Silently, I counted, waiting for the flash of light to cut through the darkness as it always had .

There. Once it had come and gone, I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, staring into an inky black landscape behind my own reflection.

“Wow,” Nico muttered when he finished reading. “How do you feel about that?”

“Have you ever known me to walk away from a treasure trove like he says is hidden up in the attic?”

Nico’s laughter tickled the back of my neck as he wrapped his arms around my middle. “No, I can’t say that I have. I’m sure you’re already fantasizing about what you might find up there.”

“You really don’t mind staying here for six months?”

“Six months is the blink of an eye, especially when you’re stuck here with me. We’ll see it through, and then the future is up to us.”

I leaned back against his steady frame and turned my head to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You’re absolutely right.”