The accusation was so unjust, she sucked in her breath.
“You’ve never solved anything for me! You just made me feel helpless and stupid as a kid. The instant you knew about my dyslexia, you treated me differently. Same as you did when Mom got sick!”
“I loved your mother,” he said harshly. “As I loved you. I tried to take care of you both—”
“By divorcing her when she was dying? By deserting us both so you could build—” She looked around the gilded parlor. “—this for your mistress? Where is Tiffany, by the way?”
Walton looked away. “She left me a few months ago.”
“Oh.” Lilley blinked at him, not knowing what to say. Good riddance seemed rude.
“I never wanted to leave your mother,” he added gruffly. “Paula’s the one who told me to go.”
Lilley’s brow furrowed. “What?”
He exhaled. “I’ve never dealt well with illness, I’ll give you that. But when I told your mother about Tiffany, I was trying to wipe the slate clean. I vowed to her that if she could forgive me, I’d be a better husband, a better man.” His lips trembled in a smile. “But she told me to get the hell out of our house. She refused to see me again. And so I didn’t.” He clawed back his wispy hair. “Not until the funeral, when she couldn’t stop me.”
“I never knew. I just assumed—”
“Your mother didn’t want to drag you into our quarrel. I respected her wishes.”
“And took all the blame,” she whispered.
He looked at her. “I reckon I deserved it.” He looked away. “So who’s your baby’s father? Some penniless musician? An artist? Any chance the man has a shred of honor or decency?”
“If you’re asking if he’s married me, the answer is yes. We were married in September in Las Vegas.”
His face grew more ashen. His long eyebrows shook as he said, “You got married! Without telling me!”
“You disinherited me. I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Tell me you got a prenup.”
“No.”
His hand trembled as he stabbed the cigar towards her. “I haven’t worked hard all my life to let some greedy fortune hunter steal it all now!”
“He doesn’t want your money,” she whispered. She looked away. “And anyway, he’s about to divorce me.”
“After such a short marriage? Who will take care of you and the child?”
“I will.” She took a shallow breath, trying not to inhale his smoke which was making her feel sick. “Théo offered me a spot at his headquarters in Paris, in his mergers and acquisitions department. He said I have a fresh take on things, an original mind. But his wife Carrie and I had already decided—”
“Original mind?” her father interrupted derisively. “You can’t survive on your own, and take care of my grandchild alone. You will come home,” he ordered. “You’ll move in with me.”
Lilley sucked in her breath. “Why can’t you believe in me, Dad? Just once?” she whispered. “Why can’t you forget my dyslexia and tell me you believe in me, tell me I can do anything I put my mind to?”
Walton scowled. “Lilley—”
“Forget it.” She turned away. “Good-bye.”
Leaving the parlor, she fled the mansion. Outside, the frigid Minnesota air hit her skin with a vengeance, making her shiver in her warm jacket. Cold December light gleamed off Lake Minnetonka, and she could see a white cloud of fog rising up from the ice as she climbed back into her rental car. Starting the engine, she drove down the gravel driveway, her back tires sliding over the packed snow.
But when she reached the gate, the security guard ignored her. She waved at him furiously, but he turned the other way, a phone to his ear. Finally, she got out of the car and stomped to the guardhouse. “Open it,” she demanded. “Right now!”
The guard pushed the button to open the gate, but leaned out of his window. “Mr. Hainsbury wants you to wait.”
Lilley muttered under her breath. She was done waiting for anyone, especially men who’d proven over and over in every possible way that they didn’t love her. Climbing into her car, she gunned the engine. “Let him wait.”