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The Arrangement (Homestead Legacy Book 1)

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by Alex Jane




  The Arrangement

  A Homestead Legacy Story

  Alex Jane

  Contents

  Thanks

  The Arrangement – A Homestead Legacy Story

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  One Year On…

  Thank You For Reading

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  The Alphas’ Homestead Series

  A Mr & Mr Detective

  Love…but darker

  The Arrangement

  Copyright © 2019 Alex Jane

  First Edition –– 2019

  Cover Design by Alex Jane

  Editing by Victoria Milne

  All Rights Reserved

  This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer-to-peer program, for free or for a fee. Such action is illegal and in violation of Copyright Law.

  All characters and events and places in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  All trademarks are the property of their respective owners.

  This is a fantasy world that only bears a passing resemblance to reality.

  Thanks

  This has been such a fun story to write. Holding my hand along the way was the wonderful Kiyle, who let me know, wholeheartedly, that I was on the right track. Many thanks as always to Evelise and Ron for their feedback and support, and Lillian who did a fab job at wrestling this into shape, before the fantastic Helen worked her editorial magic on it. And a big sloppy kiss to all the readers who’ve been so brilliant at sharing my excitement about this new venture, and this story in particular. I hope you all love it as much as I do.

  For anyone trying to make the best of things.

  I hope you get the key to your glasshouse

  The Arrangement – A Homestead Legacy Story

  1895. New York.

  Gabriel Webster’s pack is in trouble. His father’s failing health and his mother’s untimely death mean that the vultures are circling. It won’t be long before his family’s assets are stripped and his pack disbanded. When an offer of help arrives in the form of a marriage of convenience, he has little choice but to accept.

  The arrangement would be the perfect solution, if not for one thing. Gabriel is to marry Nathaniel Hayward, the Alpha who was badly injured in the accident that killed his brother ten years before—and the man Gabriel has been in love with for as long as he can remember.

  Trapped in a business arrangement masquerading as a marriage—in a strange, empty house with a damaged husband who barely tolerates him — isn’t what Gabriel expected from life.

  But sometimes the last thing we want is the beginning of something more.

  And an ending can be the start of something beautiful.

  **A standalone story set in the Homestead universe**

  1

  1895. New York.

  It was a bright day, and yet the sunshine barely penetrated the windows on this side of the house. It made the short walk to his father's study all the more gloomy. Not that Gabriel would be otherwise engaged, out gamboling on the lawn, or taking the carriage to town to parade around the park. When he had been summoned, he'd been going over the household accounts with the housekeeper, hardly an arduous task given Dinah's propensity to ply him with ginger biscuits as they worked. Together, they had managed to find a way to eke out the meager allowance to feed the dwindling household this month without resorting to selling the silver and were even able to laugh about it as they penny-pinched. It might not have been hard labor, but his body was suffering the effects of the constant tension in his mind and shoulders, wondering how much longer they could go on like this.

  Gabriel had no reason to think he would be receiving any good news as he knocked lightly on the heavy wooden door to his father's study before pushing it open. And yet, he thought as he walked in, the old man was smiling, albeit fleetingly, at the papers in his hand.

  "You sent for me?"

  Looking up, his father beamed at him, the same indulgent smile he had always bestowed on his youngest—now only—son. It would have been untrue and discourteous to imagine Gabriel had been the favorite. Abraham Webster had loved both his sons equally, if differently, valuing their individual qualities and never comparing the two. Even after Reuben's untimely death, Abraham had never once asked Gabriel to emulate his sibling, to try to be more like him to keep his memory alive. It would have been impossible anyway. Where Reuben had been athletic and rambunctious, Gabriel was bookish and quiet. Either trying to blend into the other would have been impossible.

  "I did," his father said, his voice breaking a little. "I hope I didn't take you away from anything too important."

  "Dinah and I had just finished up. Do you need me to fetch you anything? Some tea for your throat, perhaps?"

  His father shook his head and gestured to the seat next to him at the large wooden desk. In all the years since his mother's death, Gabriel had never once seen his father take the seat behind the desk, always preferring instead to sit on the other side. It was an unspoken arrangement, one that needed no explanation, at least not to Gabriel. His mother had been the Alpha, the head of the pack. With her passing, the title and responsibilities should have moved to Gabriel's brother but being that he had died some years earlier, Abraham had found himself in a position where he'd had to fight to hang on to the estate—their property, and more importantly, their name—in order to keep their home out of the hands of the bank and several less savory branches of the family, who would happily strip the assets to nothing.

  Now, with his father's failing health and the effects of some bad investments, it was looking likely that all that effort might have been in vain and they would lose the house anyway. The stress of which took an even greater toll on Abraham and thus the vicious cycle ate away at Gabriel's life minute by minute.

  Gabriel took the chair next to his father, twisting on the hard wooden seat to face him. There was a curious look in Abraham's eyes, which Gabriel couldn't quite read.

  "I received a letter yesterday." Abraham paused, as if waiting for a reaction or response.

  Having none to such a blank statement, Gabriel could only reply, "Oh?"

  "You have something you wish to tell me?"

  Gabriel was genuinely perplexed, and must have looked so, as his father's teasing smile dropped away. "I see. This makes it all the more curious."

  "What is it and why is it curious? Father. Honestly, you do talk in such riddles."

  "A solution, I think," Abraham said solemnly, holding out the papers in his hand. "Although, what you'll think of it, I have no idea."

  Drawing the letter slowly from his father's grip, Gabriel didn't know what to expect, and indeed, the words on the page were the last thing he would have ever anticipated.

  Reading intently, he reached the bottom of the page and swiftly returned to the top, tracking the meticulous handwriting yet again, this time mouthing each syllable carefully, too afraid to actually speak them aloud but needing to make sure he was fully understanding what was in front of him.

  Finally, he let his hand fall to his lap, the page crumpling in his grip, and looked up at his father. "Is this decided then? Do I get any say in the matter?"<
br />
  "Of course you do. If you really can't stomach the idea, then I will refuse him immediately."

  "But?" Gabriel knew there was a but coming.

  The lines on his father's face deepened as he frowned, etching his countenance with sadness. It was all the reply Gabriel needed and the burning fear the letter had stoked in his chest snuffed out, leaving only a cold stone of resignation lying heavily within him.

  The old man cleared his throat; his voice weaker than Gabriel could bear to hear. "If there was any other way… I have tried, Gabriel, I have. But there is no denying the reality of our situation. I'm not much longer for this world, and when I die the vultures will descend on this house and they will strip it bare. My greatest fear is that you will be left with nothing and no one. This arrangement would stop that from happening. You and the household would be under the protection of someone we know to be a good man and an Alpha I trust. I can die knowing you'll be taken care of. "

  Reaching out, Gabriel took his father's hand. The old man had been failing since the death of his mate, and in truth had never truly recovered from the death of his oldest son ten years before. The grief may have lessened over time, but the damage was done, and the strong, vibrant man he had once been had died along with Gabriel's brother. Since the passing of his wife, there was very little doubt in anyone's mind that his time was short.

  "I don't blame you. I just—" He sighed. "I suppose I'm simply a little surprised you should have asked him, of all people."

  Abraham shook his head and smiled softly. "I didn't ask him. That's why I thought maybe you had taken the initiative."

  Gabriel didn't know quite what to think. He screwed up his nose and grimaced. "So, you didn't—" His father shook his head. "So, that means…" Amusement crept onto Abraham's face. It was the first time in a long while Gabriel had seen anything but worry and sadness there, and regardless of logic and good sense, that alone was a good enough reason to go along with it. Gabriel slumped down and let out a long breath. "Well, then," he said quietly, "it seems I'm to be married."

  "I'm sorry, Gabriel. I know this isn't want you wanted. And you must know I've always wished for so much more for you."

  His father sounded so apologetic and guilty, Gabriel forced a smile and reached for his other hand. "I know and it's not that. It's just…" His father looked questioningly at him, but all Gabriel could say was, "It's just—Nathaniel Hayward? Of all people. Really?"

  They took lunch in the dining room with the others: a light soup and some sandwiches made from the remains of the beef from the previous night's dinner. The room wasn't exactly elegant, with most of the paintings taken down to be sold, and the good sideboard that was an heirloom put out of sight in case any relatives should call by and take a liking to it.

  Abraham had made sure much of the furniture was covered in sheets and had mothballs strewn around after his wife had died. With their Alpha gone and none to take her place, guests would be few and far between; the only visitors coming to take a surreptitious inventory in the event of his death. Judith Webster had hardly been a social animal, wanting only her family around her. But in her absence, any of their limited social obligations were generally fulfilled by dining out. It saddened the pack somewhat but it kept the cleaning to a minimum, as Gabriel tried to cheerfully remind them.

  Gabriel's meal went largely uneaten, his sandwich pushed about and the soup stirred until the vegetables in it had all but disintegrated. That was until his father fixed him with a look that was both worry and reprimand, whereupon Gabriel forced the food down so as not to give away his concerns to the household about his impending nuptials. He wasn't, and would never be, Alpha, but he still had the responsibility that his position gave him to set an example.

  When he rose to help clear the plates away, he asked, "Do you think I might take the buggy out this afternoon?"

  The question was directed partly to his father for permission but it was worth saying in front of Elon who managed the stables. Abraham looked to Elon for confirmation and got a shrug in reply.

  "I was going to send Frank over to the Johnson's place to pick up the new bearing rein. Could he drop you somewhere?"

  "If it's no trouble," Gabriel replied. "I'm sure I can get a ride home later."

  His father smiled. "I'm assuming you're going to talk things over with your new friend?"

  "Thaddeus's hardly a new friend," Gabriel shot back, half-smiling. "But yes, I think it would be wise, don't you?"

  "I think if anyone can advise you well it's him. Give me a few minutes to compose a letter and you can take it with you."

  By the time Gabriel strode up the drive to the Fletcher house it was mid-afternoon and he was still no clearer on how he felt about the morning's revelation. Not even the bright sunlight dancing through the trees in full green leaf could clear the fog from his head.

  Clutching the letter his father had handed him, he progressed to the house unhindered even though the place was bustling with activity as always. For some time, he'd been a regular, if currently infrequent, visitor and had no qualms about arriving unannounced. Some might have thought a well-to-do, high society family would balk at the idea of any-old-body inviting themselves any time they fancied. But the Fletchers, for all their status, were unusual if they were anything at all.

  The gravel drive swept up, surrounded by trees on either side, a gate leading to a large pond strewn with a significant number of noisy fowl to the left as he walked. There was space enough for several carriages to stand in front of the house itself—which was large and glaringly white from a fresh coat of lime by the look of it. A high wall attached to the main building stretched out on the left-hand side, interrupted only by creepy ivy and passionflower, and there was a large open gateway through which Gabriel could glimpse the cobbled yard and stables beyond.

  Gabriel didn't bother going to the front door, not when he'd already spotted the person he needed to speak to in the stable yard as he was walking up.

  From an outsider's perspective, the scene might have been deceiving.

  Two men were standing practically toe-to-toe. The younger man was slightly taller, slender, in a loose white shirt and gray sackcloth trousers, his hands were in his pockets as he smiled and spoke quietly, a gleeful look on his face while his long blond hair caught in the wind and fluttered free from the band holding it back.

  The older man in contrast was somewhat broader and dressed as a gentleman, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his waistcoat, pushing his dark jacket back to reveal a smart watch chain. His weathered face was handsome, with a smart mustache and short beard in the imperial style, the laughter lines creasing the corners of his eyes as he looked up adoringly into the other man's face.

  If someone who didn't know them had been told they were looking at one of the city's most powerful Alphas and his mate, there would be no doubt of the assumption that most people would jump to. And they would be wrong.

  The smile on the younger man's face was unwavering as his blue eyes caught sight of his friend approaching. "Gabriel. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

  "A letter from Father. And I wondered if you had a moment to talk?"

  "For you, always." The sentiment was genuine, as was the crushing embrace.

  Gabriel thought the life was going to be squeezed out of him before he could squeak out, "Thank you, Alpha."

  That earned him a cuff on the shoulder and a sharp, "Uh, none of that, please. We've been in meetings all morning with 'Alpha this' and 'Alpha that'. "

  Gabriel chuckled. "Fine, Tad. I promise to be as disrespectful as possible."

  Thaddeus smiled even wider. "That's my boy." It was mostly funny as, at twenty-four, they were almost the same age.

  Gabriel shook his head and turned to Thaddeus's companion, asking, "How are you, Samuel?" as he took the offered hand.

  "Very well, Gabriel. I hope you didn't walk the whole way?" Gabriel liked Samuel very much. It had been somewhat of a shock when Thaddeus had arrived two years ear
lier to take over the running of the Fletcher estate with a mate no one had heard of in tow. Even more so when the Were in question turned out to be a long-lost heir to a family thought to have been wiped out in the war. A few had their doubts about the veracity of his identity but with Thaddeus's father himself vouching for the man, it seemed there was evidence enough that Samuel Carter was exactly who he claimed to be. Regardless, Samuel was kind and hardworking and made Thaddeus deliriously happy. Gabriel had hoped one day that he might be half as content with a loving mate and companion. Though that didn't look likely any longer.

  "Frank dropped me on his way into town. Though I'm flattered you think I could manage such a trip and be so composed. Likely, I would have had to crawl the last few feet up your drive if I had done."

  Thaddeus laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, regardless, come into the garden and we can talk. Maybe have some lemonade? Esther made a fresh batch this morning."

  "I'll bring some out to you," Samuel said as they all turned to walk to the back of the house. "Then I'll be getting back to work."

  "Is Tad giving you all the really dull paperwork?" Gabriel teased.

  It earned a gratifying snort from Samuel. "Not likely. I have my limits. And I'll be glad to get out of this suit and get to chopping some firewood as befits my station."

  Thaddeus groaned. "Well, at least move the block closer to the garden so we can admire your form from our seat."

  The glare Samuel shot him was playful, as was the muttered, "We should find you some limits, Tad."

 

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