Seducing the Lost Heir--A wrong brother romance

by Yvonne Lindsay

  Logan heard light footsteps on the parquet flooring, and Nancy came into the front entrance.

  “Keaton? Who’s at the do—” She stopped in her tracks when she saw the two men standing together in the foyer. “Oh, Logan, you’ve come. I’m so glad.”

  “Nancy, I brought you these,” Logan said, stepping toward his mother and offering her the flowers.

  She ignored them at first and stepped in close to give him a hug. “Thank you. It wasn’t right not having you here last night. I need you all more than you could ever know. We need each other at this horrible, horrible time.”

  In her tight embrace, Logan had to fight back the sting of tears. He swallowed against the emotion that swelled up from deep inside him, choking him. She had no idea how much he needed them, too.

  In typical motherly fashion, Nancy asked, “Have you eaten yet? Come through to the breakfast room. Our housekeeper does great French toast, and now that you’re here I feel a little appetite returning. Are you coming, Keaton?”

  She took the flowers from Logan, making approving noises over the blooms, and headed toward the back of the house. Logan and Keaton made eye contact.

  “We’ll continue our discussion another time,” Keaton said.

  “Yes, we most definitely will,” Logan answered.

  * * *

  The rest of the week passed in a blur with Christmas Day being the quietest Logan had ever known as they waited and prepared for Douglas’s funeral. At Nancy’s request, he’d moved out of the hotel and into a guest suite at her home. With Kristin and Keaton in their own places, Logan felt it was the least he could do to support his mom. She’d also asked that he call her Mom, and while it had felt a little awkward to begin with, now it felt right.

  Unfortunately, at the same time, that discussion with Keaton never stood a chance of happening, and the tension that simmered between the brothers only seemed to get stronger. And, at the office, Honor seemed hell bent on keeping clear of him on the few times he’d called in. She’d avoided his phone calls to check in on her, too. She was never far from his thoughts and it worried him, wondering how she was coping.

  On the morning of the funeral, the siblings met with Nancy in the foyer of the house as the driver and car from the funeral home pulled up to take them to the service. Logan had finally managed to get hold of Honor and offered her a ride to the cemetery, but she’d said she’d make her own way. Nancy, who’d been stoic and surprisingly strong in the preceding days, today appeared fragile and absolutely lost. Douglas’s wish had been for a short graveside service only, and despite the frigid weather they’d agreed to observe his request. Even so, Nancy had insisted on a catered gathering at the house immediately afterward for all those who’d wanted to pay their respects and remember him.

  When the car pulled up at the cemetery, Logan felt as if a giant weight had settled in his chest. The four of them, dressed in heavy coats, hats, scarves and gloves, made their way toward the people who were already assembling at the graveside. Puffs of air filled the spaces between them all as people talked and milled about in small groups, the sea of bodies separating slightly as Nancy and her children joined the throng.

  Logan’s eyes searched out Honor, who excused herself from a group she was talking with and walked over to Nancy, giving the woman a huge hug and sharing some quiet words. Nancy clung to her a moment before reaching in her pocket for a tissue.

  “You’ll sit with us, won’t you? And you’ll come back to the house, too?” Nancy said. “I know you and Keaton aren’t engaged anymore, but I feel like you’re one of my own and I know Douglas felt the same.”

  Honor’s eyes flicked to Keaton for a moment. Whatever she saw reflected in his face made her shoulders relax a little as she nodded and smiled back at Nancy.

  “If everyone else is okay with that?”

  Honor looked from Keaton to Kristin and finally to Logan. He stared back at her, taking in the shadows beneath her eyes and the slight frown on her forehead. He wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms and offer her comfort, as Nancy had done, but she took a step back.

  “You can sit by me,” he offered when his siblings remained silent.

  “Thank you,” she said on a tightly issued breath. It was almost time for the service to begin when a last-minute group consisting of two men and two women, related judging by their resemblance to each other, arrived and made their way toward the graveside.

  “Do you know them?” Logan asked his sister.

  “Never seen them before,” she replied. “Maybe they’re business associates of Dad’s.”

  To Logan’s surprise, they assumed seats in the first row in front of the waiting casket. Seats that had been reserved for Nancy, Keaton, Kristin and Logan. The eldest woman, in her fifties by the look of her, appeared quiet and composed but pale. Her children, too, had similar expressions, and Logan couldn’t help but feel there was something familiar about them. He watched as the funeral director approached them.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. Could you move to the next row back, please? These seats are reserved for the widow and children of Mr. Richmond,” Logan heard the man say discreetly.

  They were all surprised when the woman vehemently shook her head.

  “Ma’am, please,” the funeral director urged again, a little less gently this time.

  Logan stepped up to the newcomers and put a hand on the funeral director’s shoulder.

  “Let me,” he said firmly before turning to the newcomers. “Perhaps you could move back a row, please? These seats were reserved for my family.”

  The woman looked at him, and for a moment her eyes blazed with suppressed fury.

  “Your family? I have every right to be at the graveside of my husband’s burial and so do our children!”

  “Logan?” Nancy drew closer. “What is that woman saying?”

  The woman in question stood, her children following suit, almost as if they formed an honor guard flanking her. Nancy’s children did the same.

  “I’m saying I have every right to be right here,” the other woman shouted as she pointed to the seat she’d just vacated. “I am Douglas Richmond’s wife and I can prove it.”

  “Ma’am... Mrs. Richmond, perhaps now is not the time.” The funeral director tried to insert himself between the families.

  “Really?” said the second Mrs. Richmond. “If not now, when? My husband has died and this woman has organized his burial without my permission.”

  She turned to face Nancy, who looked incapable of speech. “I was prepared to let this go, to let you go ahead and bury my husband before stating my claim, but now I’m not feeling so inclined. In fact, I want Douglas’s body brought back to Virginia where he belongs.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s my husband and he’s being buried in accordance with his wishes.” Nancy’s voice shook with the emotion evident in her strained features.

  “Well, they’re not my wishes and as his wife, I’m telling you this is not going ahead.”

  “I’m his wife,” Nancy countered.

  Logan looked from one woman to the next and back again as their voices rose in anger. Then Keaton and Kristin entered the fray together with the other Mrs. Richmond’s children. This had to stop before it became some sordid story in the news. Logan tugged on the funeral director’s arm. The poor man looked as though he was paralyzed in shock.

  “Obviously this can’t go ahead until we’ve sorted this mess out,” Logan said firmly. “Let’s clear everyone away and take this elsewhere.”

  The man looked relieved to be given a clear instruction, and he and his staff moved to shepherd the gathered mourners well away from the verbal fracas taking place at the graveside. Logan stepped back up to the melee and held up a hand.

  “People, can we please stop for a minute. Obviously, there is some discussion to be had and proof to be given before we ca
n go any further. Might I suggest we take this back to the house?” he said in a voice that brooked no discussion.

  “Good idea,” said Keaton. “This is preposterous. This woman is saying she and Dad were married two years before him and Mom. It can’t be true. That would make him a bigamist.”

  The daughter of the other Mrs. Richmond cast a scornful glance at the highly polished, flower-bedecked coffin poised over the grave. “If the shoe fits,” she said succinctly.

  Nancy and Kristin both looked as though they were about to launch themselves at her. Honor, who’d been standing nearby, stepped between them. Grateful to avoid a full-on physical confrontation, Logan suggested everyone get back to their cars and reconvene at Nancy’s house.

  “I’m not setting foot inside that woman’s house,” the other Mrs. Richmond stated firmly.

  “Then perhaps you’d prefer to leave and allow us to continue with my father’s farewell,” Logan said darkly, his eyes flicking from her to her children and back again.

  “I most certainly would not,” she spluttered indignantly.

  “Then I would respectfully ask you to put your emotions aside for a few hours while we discuss this in a reasonable and rational way,” Logan suggested. “Mom? Are you okay with that?”

  Nancy wavered slightly where she stood, prompting Kristin to take her arm to steady her.

  “I don’t understand this, but I guess it will be okay. Where’s Hector?” Nancy asked, scanning the crowd for the family’s lawyer. “I saw him here before. He should be there, too, shouldn’t he?”

  She looked to Logan, who nodded and said, “Yes, he should.”

  “He’s heading to his car,” Honor said. “I’ll go stop him.”

  Logan murmured his thanks and watched as she briskly walked toward the roadside, where groups of people continued to linger despite being asked to move on. He saw Honor catch up with Hector Ramirez and watched as the two of them spoke before Hector nodded and waited by his car. Gratitude mixed with pride for her filled him—even given how she was being treated by Keaton and Kristin, she was willing to step up and help.

  “I’ll speak with him now if we’re all agreed?” Logan asked.

  He looked at each person in turn, not moving onto the next until they’d all nodded their consent. The funeral director scurried toward them.

  “I’ve never had this happen in forty years of business. What am I to do with Mr. Richmond?” he asked.

  “Perhaps you could take him back to the funeral home until we clear this up.”

  “Yes, yes. That’s what I’ll do.”

  Muttering to himself, the man gestured to his staff, and they began to assemble their equipment to return the coffin to the hearse parked by the curb. Turning his back to the activity, Logan followed his family, and the other family, back to the waiting cars by the sidewalk. He gave Nancy’s address to the driver who’d brought the other family and suggested the man follow behind Nancy’s car.

  “Look after Mom,” Logan directed Keaton and Kristin, who appeared to be equal parts stricken and furious right now. “And don’t allow any discussion until I get there with Hector.”

  “You’re coming with him?”

  “I am.”

  “And Honor?”

  “I think Nancy would want her there. Besides, you’ll need someone to deal with the caterers and staff while we’re all dealing with that lot,” Logan said firmly. He wasn’t about to cut Honor out now.

  To his relief Keaton nodded. “Okay. We’ll see you back at the house. Thanks for stepping up and taking charge there.”

  “Hey, what else is a big brother for?” Logan said in an attempt to defuse the tension that now gripped everyone.

  Keaton snorted a laugh. “You’re not so big I couldn’t take you.”

  Logan smiled back, feeling something ease deep within his chest. They might not be the perfect family and he might not be close to his siblings, but he had the feeling that right now they needed him more than they’d ever dreamed possible—and he would be there for them, one hundred percent.

  Fourteen

  Hector and Logan spoke in undertones up front as Hector drove them to the Richmond family home. Honor listened but didn’t contribute to the conversation. In fact, she had no idea what to say or think about any of this aside from agreeing it was almost farcical to have a whole other family arrive at Douglas’s funeral claiming to be his.

  She looked out the window and tried to figure out how Douglas could have possibly maintained two completely separate lives and families for so long without being caught. Why on earth would a man do something like that? Surely he knew that eventually his deceit would be discovered. Was that what he’d been talking about the day he died when he mentioned people making mistakes—some more than others? Had he been thinking of his own decisions? Either way, if these people’s claims were true, what he’d done was immoral, not to mention illegal.

  And speaking about the legality of it, where did this leave everyone in terms of succession at Richmond Developments? Had Logan and Keaton even thought about that yet? Douglas had never made any secret of the fact that his firstborn heir would be appointed to head up the company on his death. What if his son from his first wife was older than Logan and Keaton? And were Logan, Keaton and Kristin now illegitimate?

  Her mind spun on the possibilities until she felt dizzy. One thing was absolutely certain, however, and that was the effect this betrayal by their father would have on his children. All of them. Honor knew a lot about betrayal. The scars ran deep and had lifelong ramifications. From what Honor could tell, for all their privilege, Kristin and Keaton had spent their whole lives trying to please their father. Finding out he might have had another family had to be doing a number on both of them.

  She looked at the back of Logan’s head and wondered how he felt about it all. He had barely had a chance to get to know Douglas, so was he even surprised about today’s events? He certainly had stepped up and taken control pretty quickly. Even Keaton hadn’t pushed back when Logan had done that. She was relieved to see the brothers working together and it firmed her resolve to create as much distance between herself and Logan as she possibly could. He deserved his family, unfettered by the complications she brought to everything, no matter how deeply she felt for him.

  The lawyer pulled into the driveway at the Richmond house and parked outside the front door. They alighted and the men went inside, but Honor paused to ensure the gate at the end of the driveway was closed first. The last thing they needed now was rubberneckers joining the party; she had no doubt that the gossip mill was already churning away over what had happened at the graveside. She then went out to the kitchen and advised the caterers to contact a local homeless shelter to see if they’d accept the food that had been prepared for the guests who would now no longer be coming. She suggested to Nancy’s housekeeper that she keep some platters aside for the family, who were now assembled in the parlor at the front of the house.

  When she joined the family in the formal parlor, you could just about cut the seething, silent atmosphere with a knife. Her eyes sought out Logan, who remained standing as everyone else took their seats. The families lined up facing one another on Nancy’s favorite chairs, all bearing very similar expressions. This wasn’t going to be pleasant but she felt a swell of respect for Logan, who looked as if he’d more than capably chair this awkward meeting. Her instincts urged her to stand by him and offer him the support he was due but she knew she couldn’t, and that just about crushed the air from her lungs. She’d thought she would cope with being near him again today, but it was proving more difficult than she’d imagined. Even so, she couldn’t just desert him, or Nancy for that matter. Not when they might need her help.

  “I think we can agree that today’s developments have come as a shock,” Logan started.

  “I am not a development,” the other Mrs. Richmond stated firmly.
“I am Douglas’s first and legal wife. She and her spawn are the development, and a very unwelcome one, I can tell you.”

  “Mom, don’t. We are all shocked. There’s no need to be unkind. None of this is anyone’s fault except for Dad’s,” her daughter said firmly.

  “You’re right,” Logan said in agreement. “First, I think we need to introduce ourselves, then, if you have no objections, we can ask Hector for his legal opinion on the situation.”

  The woman snorted. “As if his opinion will be unbiased. You can rest assured, my lawyers will be all over this no matter what your man says.”

  Logan said nothing but fixed his gaze on her and raised a brow.

  “Fine,” she said on another outraged huff of breath. “My name is Eleanor Richmond. I married Douglas on the first of July, thirty-six years ago, in our hometown in Virginia. We were high school sweethearts. These are our children—Fletcher, Mathias and Lisa.”

  “And I am Nancy Richmond. I, too, married Douglas thirty-six years ago, on the second of September, here in Seattle. We had a whirlwind courtship. He told me he couldn’t live without me and begged me to marry him. And these are my children—Logan, Keaton and Kristin.”

  “And this is Hector Ramirez, our family lawyer,” Logan introduced the attorney, who was sitting quietly to one side of the room observing the proceedings. “Hector, would you like to say a few words?”

  “Thank you, Logan. I knew Douglas for many years, and I have to say this development has shocked me as much as it has clearly shocked you all. The first step I believe we need to take is to ascertain whose marriage has legal standing. Once that is done, the way forward will be clearer.”

  “The way forward?” Nancy asked.

  “In terms of the execution of Douglas’s final wishes. Aside from his personal effects, which he has been quite explicit in naming the recipients of, there’s the matter of his business.”

  “My husband maintained a well-respected construction company in Virginia,” Eleanor interjected. “Don’t for one minute think that her children will be entitled to any of that or my home or financial portfolios.”