Heir Today, Gone Tomorrow

by Gardiner, Jenny

  And it didn’t hurt either that he had blond hair. Caro was a sucker for blond hair on guys—maybe because it wasn’t often you came across it. Women, well, they could concoct all sorts of false hair colors that looked believable—at least within the color spectrum of nature—but guys usually stuck with what they were given, and not many still sported flaxen locks by the time they were grown up. So all in all, Darcy was the package. Handsome, earnest—at least by appearance—and she would soon learn loyal as all get-out. And so trustworthy. No doubt about it, Adrian meant the world to him, and he was willing to make sure that his friend was taken care of. How many guys were like that anymore?

  But that was just the superficial impression. Once Caroline got past the combative phase with Darcy—a phase with which she was most unfamiliar since usually things were on her terms when it came to the opposite sex—she found out they were so darned compatible. They both loved monkeys. What guy ever has a thing for monkeys? It seemed like a sure sign. She turned him on to Phish Food ice cream, her absolutely passionately most-favorite-ever ice cream. And she hoped he hadn’t had one bite of it since he left her. That would serve him right. Though he’d probably use his royal connections to order it up and have it flown in on the royal jet. Maybe along with Ben and Jerry, to get personal ice-cream-making advice. Nah, Darcy wasn’t that kind of guy.

  They loved jazz and old movies and any kind of martini that didn’t involve real martini ingredients. If these all weren’t signs of potential for a longer-term, well, longer-ish, relationship, then nothing was. Not that she was looking for that. But then, damn, she slept with him. Not right away. Well, fairly quickly, considering it was a whirlwind few days before he left in a sudden and unexpected flurry of good-byes to take Adrian back to his ailing mother—who was faking it, by the way. So not cool. They sort of had this Hepburn-Tracy relationship going, and the sparring only seemed to stir up the sexual tension, which they finally gave in to after a little friendly polar bear skinny-dip the group had taken together.

  Caroline laughed quietly. Poor Emma and Adrian. Their timing had just kept being off, and they’d never seemed to manage to get that far, but wow, with Caroline and Darcy it was like that big poof of flame that occurs when a fire finally catches. When the queen summoned Emma, by way of Caroline, through Darcy—talk about your drunkard’s path to get somewhere!—Caro was certain things would continue strongly with Darcy. Which was how it unfolded, for the most part. But then she’d returned home and nothing but crickets. And now, here she was, back on his turf, with him somehow having disappeared from view.

  It’s a good thing I’m not used to taking no for an answer, Caroline muttered quietly to the beat of Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies.” And I’m not inclined to start now.

  Chapter Five

  DARCY was bleary-eyed. He’d been living on coffee and hospital food for the better part of three months, and his body was in rebellion. Aside from indigestion—no doubt caused by the stress of keeping vigil over his dying father combined with the diet from Hell—he hadn’t slept through the night since his father had been rushed by ambulance to the hospital.

  Darcy would hang on as long as he had to, but he was burned out and could really use a break. Shame a break wasn’t on the horizon, because once his father passed, his father’s duties would pass immediately into Darcy’s hands. And so far Darcy didn’t feel they were particularly capable ones because, until then, he’d yielded to his father and let him handle the day-to-day running of what was to be Darcy’s inheritance. The estate had run with a military precision under his father’s leadership; it was going to take some training for Darcy to do even half as good a job. Yet the man to train him was before him, comatose, his death imminent.

  “Darling, you really need to return home every once in a while.” Darcy’s mother, Lady Charlotte, came up behind him, rubbing his shoulders with firm hands.

  “Gah, Mother, I’m well aware of that,” Darcy said. “But I can’t just leave him here while I go on about my business.”

  His mother nodded. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to at some point.”

  Darcy sighed and fell back into the uncomfortable recliner that had become his de facto bed. He rubbed his tired eyes and buried his head in his hands. “I’m not ready for that yet, Mum. I’m not ready to say good-bye to him.”

  His mother turned to face him. “None of us is, Darcy. But we haven’t a choice in this. The doctors have pulled all life support. He’s in the hands of hospice care now, and all we can do is help make him comfortable as he slips away from our world.”

  Darcy shook his head. “I don’t want to believe this. Surely there’s something we can do.”

  His mother took both of his hands in hers. “We all love your father immensely. He’s been a wonderful husband and a loving father. We’ve been so blessed with him in our lives to this point. But we have to learn to let go. I’m sorry, my love. I know it hurts. Believe you me, it hurts me as well. But it’s not up to us how this ends.”

  Darcy looked over at his father, his ashen complexion seeming to fade more each day, almost blending into the bedding. His breathing was becoming labored, and his body’s efforts at consuming enough oxygen often made Darcy feel as if his own breaths were caught short.

  “Look, son, I insist. You need to leave for a few hours. Go, get some sleep. Maybe even walk amidst the living, just to remind yourself that it’s not all gloom and doom. Revive yourself. You have even more work on the horizon. You need to care for yourself so you’ll be up to the task. Go on, now. Go.” His mother pulled on his arms, dragging him up out of the chair, and she gave him a loving shove toward the door. “I’ll be sure to let you know if anything changes. I promise.”

  Darcy leaned over his father and kissed his forehead. As he walked away, he turned to look back, then shook his head and left, following his mother’s instructions.

  ~*~

  Darcy was in the zone, basically driving on autopilot. He was so oblivious that once he got into the passing lane he just never remembered to get back in the right-hand lane. Some Beyoncé song about putting a ring on it was playing in the background, but it could have been a heavy metal band singing about devil worship for as much as he noticed it.

  He’d never known himself to get so lost in thought before. Until now, he’d been such a frivolous young man, all about having fun and not worrying about anything. He was treading on foreign soil with this new, somber manner. He was on his way to a meeting with the estate manager, a chap named Alastair Crowell, whom Darcy affectionately referred to as Uncle Alastair. The only person who knew nearly what his father did in running the estate was Alastair, who’d been omnipresent in Darcy’s upbringing as he was frequently on-property, managing the minutia of his father’s vast landholdings and business operations. It was Alastair with whom Darcy had frequently groomed horses when he was a child, just for the fun of being near those beautiful creatures. Side by side on a cold winter day, steam rising from the nostrils of his own beloved steed, brushing the sweaty flanks and mucking the stalls, the sweet smell of hay and manure hanging in the air, Alastair dispensing advice on caring for the animals they both so loved. It was a place where Darcy always felt most alive, simply connected to his life as the son of Lord Hubert, Marquess of Weltenham. It wasn’t that he was averse to taking over his father’s holdings, but he felt ill equipped to fill his large shoes. And certainly couldn’t do so without the necessary support of Alastair.

  Darcy shook his head from his daydreams and glanced to his right. One of the royal Rolls-Royces was in the next lane over, and he could make out someone stretched across the seat in the back. A woman, her feet moving back and forth, her fingers pointing in the air as if she was dancing. Darcy smiled at the scene; lucky her, to be so carefree. He looked over again, wishing he could soak in some of her insouciant mood, a sort of highway osmosis. But as he stared, he caught a glimpse of long, red hair. It reminded him so much of Caroline it made his heart ache.

  He knew C
aroline had long since returned to the States and her impulsive life. And it roiled his stomach to imagine that by now she’d probably resumed her habit of serial dating. In an ideal world, maybe he would have pursued whatever it was they’d started in December. But his world had gone from pretty darned ideal to extremely up in the air with no apparent normalcy on the horizon for as far as he could see. The last thing he could deal with in his typical male multitask-averse brain was juggling a blossoming relationship. With a woman who lived across an ocean, no less. As if he already hadn’t been busy enough managing much of Adrian’s life, now he was going to have to not only figure out if that was even an option anymore but also how he was going to take over his father’s life. Not to mention everyone would be expecting Darcy, the firstborn son, to be the rock, to stand stoically by while the rest of the family outwardly mourned his father’s imminent passing.

  Fact was, the whole Caroline affair was by default going to be relegated to the category of passing fancy. And certainly a whole lot of bad timing. Shame it hadn’t all unfolded under other circumstances. Because he really, really liked her. A lot. As in far more than any woman he’d ever encountered. There was something so different about Caroline and her devil-may-care attitude. Yet Darcy could see a hint of vulnerability. He felt he’d barely scratched the surface of the enigmatic, dazzling woman. And he knew, if he had his druthers, he’d be on the next plane back to the States to see where things would go.

  Sometimes it sucked when you had to grow up.

  Chapter Six

  BY the time the limousine crossed the ornate gates at the threshold of the Grand Palace, Caroline had nodded off to sleep. Sure, one could argue it’s hard to fall asleep when you’re en route to a Really Big Deal, but that last mimosa must’ve done her in more than she’d realized. As the car came to a stop, she wiped her tired eyes and tried to clear the cobwebs out of her groggy head. For a second she wasn’t quite sure where she was until the car door was yanked open and her very enthusiastic friend squealed in joy.

  “It’s about damned time!” Emma said, pulling on Caroline’s arm to get her out of the car. “I can’t give you a proper hug while you’re sprawled out in there. Glad to see you didn’t worry much about protocol, by the way, spread out over the entire row of seats as you were. Next time I’ll get them to throw a comforter and pillow in for you.”

  “Next time?” Caroline said. “There won’t be one of those, baby, because I’m not going anywhere. I’m moving in right proper. Plan to occupy an entire wing of the palace. Might even escort you two lovebirds on your honeymoon to the Seychelles.” She twirled a pretend handlebar moustache as if she were scheming.

  “I’m sure my husband would love that,” Emma said. “Oooh, it’s not bad luck to refer to him like that before we’re married, is it? I meant it as if by then he’d be my husband.”

  Caro shook her head. “I gotcha. No worries. I won’t report it to the bad-luck police or anything.”

  The two women reached out and pulled each other in, squeezing hard.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t meet you at the airport,” Emma said. “I was in a session with Gareth, the protocol chief.”

  “Gareth? That sounds like exactly what he would do for a living. What else would you call someone who is an expert on protocol but Gareth?”

  “Stop with the jokes. I think you’ll love him.”

  “You know me, Ems. I don’t love any men. Date ’em and forget about ’em is my motto.”

  “You don’t have to have relations with the man. In fact, that might be against his instincts—it’s hard to tell. Which is why I think you’ll like him. He’s so much fun, and he’s got all the dish around here. He’s like my very own home away from home E! News.”

  “Sounds like a perfect match for me.” Caroline closed her eyes for a quick second, thinking about the actual perfect match, the one who clearly didn’t want to be matched up with her.

  “Still no word on Darcy, by the way,” Emma said. “Even though I know you weren’t asking.”

  Although it was pretty obvious that she was wondering and would never dream of actually asking, because that would only show that she was wondering. Even though she feigned that she wasn’t wondering. Classic Caroline way of thinking.

  Caro waved her had dismissively. “Eh. I’m over him. It’s really not a big deal.”

  But of course it was.

  “Look, honey, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Just give me time,” Emma said. “Adrian had an extended trip to Asia on the books that he had to continue with. I know he brought along another valet to take Darcy’s place. But I’ve hardly been in touch with Adrian except to discuss wedding plans and the like.”

  “And the like being phone sex?” Caro asked with a laugh.

  Emma blushed. “Well, yeah. I mean what else are you gonna do, so far away from each other.”

  “So in the midst of all that, it’s impossible to delve into the mystery of the missing equerry...”

  “Honestly, Caro, you can’t imagine how busy I am from the minute I wake up until I pass out asleep each night. I’ve got so much to learn, so much to see, and so much to decide upon for the wedding.”

  “Me, on the other hand, well, I’ve been preoccupied with choosing between Honeycomb and Frosted Flakes for breakfast,” Caro said. “Honeycomb wins every time, by the way.” She held her thumbs up in mock approval.

  “You’re going to make me feel really bad that I’ve not been there for you.”

  “No, seriously, do not under any circumstances feel bad for me. You are living the dream, and I am thrilled to live it vicariously through you. And I can’t believe you’re sharing it with me now. I am here and at your service and ready to get to work!”

  “Why don’t we start with setting you up in a room and giving you a chance to nap? You must be exhausted.”

  Caroline yawned. “Yeah, well, that little limo nap only reminded me how much I could use a real one, so I won’t turn it down.”

  “You’ve picked a good time to arrive since the family’s scattered right now, so you won’t have to do all the meet and greets quite yet.”

  “Good. I can remain invisible for a while,” Caroline said. “Give me a chance to get my bearings and figure out how to stalk that rat bastard. Kidding.”

  Emma shook her head. “God, you scared me for a minute there. But I know you wouldn’t really go on a hunt for him, would you?”

  Caroline smiled a mysterious smile. “Oh, I don’t know about that. I am all about the chase.”

  Emma just shook her head and grabbed a bag before a valet freed her from the burden, and the two friends climbed the spiral staircase to find Caroline’s room.

  Chapter Seven

  DARCY found Alastair with his nose practically buried in paperwork when he arrived at his office above the barn. Barn would be a loose term, considering this barn—which housed some twenty prize-winning thoroughbreds—was impeccably decorated with gleaming mahogany and spit-polished brass fixtures, and wrought iron chandeliers hung from the rafters. The floors were so clean you could practically eat off them. As pristine as the barn was, it was still filled with the unmistakable scent of horses, which always gave Darcy great comfort. He inhaled a deep breath, feeling a moment’s peace.

  Darcy gave a cursory knock on the door, which was slightly ajar, then let himself in.

  Alastair looked up from his work, and a broad smile crossed his face. “Darcy, my boy, so good to see you here,” he said, standing up to greet him.

  Alastair’s full head of alabaster hair seemed to have whitened even more since the last time Darcy had been home. But it didn’t serve to make him look old as much as look even more genial. His soft blue eyes, framed by snowy brows, were so clear they seemed almost transparent. He knew his father had a good decade on Alastair, which was reassuring. Darcy couldn’t afford to worry about losing the second most important man in his life on the heels of the impending loss of his own father.

  Darcy walked over to Ala
stair, and the men clasped arms around one another.

  “How’re you holding up, then?”

  Darcy shook his head and breathed a heavy sigh. “I’m here, if that’s saying anything.”

  “Sometimes that’s all you can do, son. You’re here, and you’re providing the support your mother needs. And this”—he gestured around the room and barn—“well, we’ll figure this out.”

  “I’m not worried about figuring it out. I’m worried about carrying the weight. I don’t feel ready for this. Nor was I supposed to be, or so I thought. I figured it would be years until I took over here. I wasn’t done sowing my wild oats.” Darcy stuck out his lower lip, pretending to pout.

  Alastair laughed. “Maybe we’ll get you out in the fields sowing actual oats. That’ll show you.”

  Darcy rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll leave that up to the experts. We don’t really grow oats in these fields, do we?”

  “You’ll learn soon enough all that’s planted. But we have people who take care of that, so you’ll not need to fret over such details. We have to get you focused on the big picture,” he said, putting his arm around Darcy. “But for now, just take things as they come. Your priority is to wait it out with your father and to help your family weather the storm. It’s not easy to lose a parent, especially so unexpectedly. So take care of yourself, and try to get some sleep.”

  “You have no idea how amazing sleep sounds. I took it for granted for so long, but sleep is entirely elusive now. I’d about kill for a good night of it.”

  “Well, let’s not go that far. You’ll have plenty of time to rest. But for now, why don’t you tuck yourself away in my bunk and see if you can catch up on a little shut-eye? I know you love to hear the horses whinnying below; it’ll soothe you just like a lullaby.”