CHAPTER FIVE: My Brother's Intended

Alexander’s POV

“Are you making this shit up?” I tackle him, walking him over with crude eyes.

He shakes his head. “The constitution exists, all three hundred pages of it. I can have it sent up right now” He appears serious.

My blood heats up another degree, my veins feel like they could pop out from my skin. Three hundred fucking pages of disaster about to ruin my life. No freaking way.

Simon continues amidst the chaos in my head.

“And the union has to make a year for it to be acknowledged or you would be removed as Clifford’s forerunner immediately and then Clifford Empire would….”

“Shut up…shut up…shut up” I nearly want to bite his head off but he saves himself with a swift retreat.

I drag my feet. “This is bullshit…bullshit…bullshit”

“Alexander I don’t believe it would be hard to find a happy Mrs. Clifford. There would be at least a thousand offers, you have nothing to worry about”

“So what the hell am I supposed to do now?” Now that the fucking constitution has me fucked to a corner.

“First, we bury the dead…”

My heart sinks, returning back to the crux of the matter. I feel my eyes sink, they are really gone; obliterated, finished, ended, banished to pictures and memories. Shit! I can’t plan a funeral, a double, I shiver with horror. I am just not cut out for that.

Simon reads the expressions on my face and saves me the sweat.

“You don’t have to worry about the funeral; the insurance company has everything handled”

I feel a little relief, waving off all the tedious images of picking out coffins for my brother and grandfather. Definitely not the trouble I am looking for.

He starts motioning towards me, my eyes follow his strides, where they meet me, one hand taking my shoulder, making eye contact. “Then you run the Clifford empire like your brother would have”

I scoff. “I don’t know a thing about running this shit hole”

This fucking maze of bad memories.

“I would help you…I worked closely with Harry as you know and even with your grandfather, I would practically hold your hand and take you step by step”

His eyes were stroking my approval, my commitment, my acceptance. Arthur Clifford must be rolling over in his grave, the invaluable cunt was to be forerunner of Clifford. Laughable. I was not Harry. I could never be and this forerunner bullshit wasn’t my bullshit to clean up but here was Simon, offering to be my saddle boy. How could I refuse? It would be foolish to refuse and maybe, just maybe I wanted to send a fuck you message to Arthur Clifford, piss on his presumptuous, terrifying, condescending face; the invaluable cunt, taking over his precious empire, sure that would piss him off.

“This is still a load of bullshit” I am mumbling amidst many scattered thoughts.

“There is one more thing” Simon strikes again.

One fierce finger pointed. “If you mention the fucking constitution one more time?” I couldn’t take anymore heat.

“It’s Miss. Catherine” His chin drops.

“And who for fuck sakes is Catherine?” I throw my hands.

“Harry’s intended…she flew in from Wales yesterday”

“Harry’s dead, you should send her back home” Infact.

“Yeah…I just thought maybe you’d want to see her, offer some consolation…”

I take a second. “Consolation…” My eyes drop and then to the right, my lips curl upward, hosting an inner conversation with myself, debating for a while and then I re-engage.

“You said I must take a wife…and she was to marry Harry?” I’m thinking my thoughts aloud.

“Yee…aah” His words dragged with a nod, eyes investigating mine.

“I need a wife and she has just lost a husband to be…” I am deliberating with myself, mentally calculating.

“No Alexander…that’s not what I meant…I was talking about sympathy and acknowledgement…not…not what you are thinking”

I could hear the trouble in his voice and I could feel his following eyes. It’s good that he knows what I am thinking; saves me the trouble of explanations.

I face him. “Send her to me”

“Alexander I don…”

“How fast can you draw up a contract?” Simon appears even more astounded.

“It depends on its complexity” Only his mouth moved, his eyes followed me diligently.

“Simple, really simple, just a list of terms and conditions”

“Shouldn’t be more than a few minutes” Vertical wrinkles appear between his brows.

“I ignore his apparent disapproval. “Good…I’ll email you a list. Have Miss. Catherine come see me then have the contract drawn immediately and get it here” I conclude.

“Alexander, are you… sure you…” He stutters, disapproval ploughing his brows.

“Simon…” I take his eyes. “Get me Catherine Kent”

He holds my firm gaze and surrenders. He nods. “Yes Sir”

My eyes follow his parting distance. Once the door shuts, I am alone and it all starts to sink in. The Clifford Manor, marriage and my brother’s intended, Catherine. Could you really, Alex? Would you really? Harry wouldn’t mind. He always wanted me to step up, and while I am trying to do it, no one says I have to do it his way.