by Lucy Farago
“I don’t know, Blake. Is it? You refuse to talk to me about it. If there’s another reason why the two of you broke off the engagement, won’t you tell me?”
Rhonda was beginning to regret eavesdropping. The rock in the pit of her stomach told her she’d overheard too much. Engaged!
“Because,” he said stiffly, “that was in the past. And it does no good to dredge it up.”
“Then let it stay in the past.” His mother’s voice softened. “Forgive each other and move on.”
“I have moved on.”
“With Rhonda?”
Was that a note of derision she heard? Rhonda tensed. More importantly, was he going to screw this up? Because of course, the woman would want her son to be involved with someone from his own class. Someone who also had a title. Not her.
“Rhonda and I are friends. Good friends. A … dramatic event brought us together and it made us close. But that’s it. She doesn’t care for me. Just today she threatened to murder me.”
“No doubt with good reason,” Lady Helen said, surprising Rhonda.
She smiled. It would appear his mother knew him well.
“No doubt,” Blake agreed. “Why have you summoned me? What is it you expect me to do to help Colin?”
“Have a baby.”
Chapter Twenty
Rhonda clamped a hand over her mouth before she gave herself away. Looking upward, she shook her head. If this was God’s way of getting back at her, it wasn’t funny.
“There must be an heir. The title will disappear and our ancestral home will no longer belong to the family. And if not you, your grandmother will continue to pester Colin, putting a further strain on his marriage. If you have a child, the pressure is off him and you can provide for the upkeep of this house.”
Rhonda rubbed her flat belly. She could be carrying that heir. Her child could grow up not wanting for anything. Except a mother who wanted to be a mother. Loving parents trumped money.
“You know damn well Colin has his pride. He’d never allow me to do that. Would you risk his resigning the title?”
“Colin can be made to see reason,” she argued.
“He’s worked too hard to be self-sufficient. He won’t accept handouts. And if I inherit, he might make good on his threat. I know he doesn’t see it that way. He thinks he’d be acting honorably but that honor could cost him the wife you so adamantly proclaim loves him.”
“She wouldn’t do that. And the Dukes of Oakley hold a place in Scottish history. To throw all they accomplished away because you want no part of it is wrong. This is your legacy, that of your children and their children’s legacy.”
She heard Blake groan and wished she could see the expression on his face. Was he giving in? Did he agree with his mother? Or was he becoming exasperated by her demands?
“Blake, Colin loves his wife. She is everything to him. If he loses her … it could destroy him.”
“Open your eyes, Mother. If Colin doesn’t inherit, he will lose her. She’s a cold-hearted, calculating bitch who only married Colin for the title and his wealth.”
His sister-in-law, his ex-fiancée, hadn’t married Colin for love? She was a bitch.
“I see you haven’t forgiven her.”
Not once in all the weeks they were together had Rhonda seen evidence that Blake was pining over another woman. He spoke fondly of his brother, so there was no bitterness there. Wouldn’t he resent Colin if Blake still had feelings for Sarah? No, Blake disliked her because he believed she married Colin for the wrong reasons. He was pissed, not jealous.
He didn’t give his mother’s comment a reply. “Are you really asking me to find a wife and produce an heir? That would make you as ridiculous as Grandmother.”
“No.” She exhaled loudly. “It’s not the same. But if you inherit the money, Oakley Manor will be secure. It will be your son’s legacy. That would alleviate the stress on your brother.”
“I’m telling you, Sarah will leave Colin if he doesn’t inherit.”
“She won’t. I’m telling you she loves him. I just thought if you had a child, then the burden would be off them. You’d see that this house was maintained.”
She seemed confident in Sarah’s love, but Blake’s next words clearly said he didn’t agree.
“Mother, and please don’t take this the wrong way, I mean no disrespect, but take your head out of your arse. She’s a gold-digging bitch who will break his heart. You want to help Colin? Find him a new wife.”
Rhonda left then, tiptoeing slowly into the hallway and returning to the foyer. She could understand a mother wanting to protect a son, a brother protecting a brother. But Colin was a big boy. What made her more curious was what she hadn’t heard. Was this the reason Blake didn’t do long term? He wanted to ensure Sarah didn’t leave Colin? So why couldn’t Colin protect himself? Also, if she’d had any thoughts about telling Blake she might be pregnant, they were gone.
*
Blake had told Rhonda dinner was never casual at Oakley Manor. What did “never casual” mean? Thinking she couldn’t go wrong with the little black dress, she chose the one someone had packed. She slipped on the black pumps and added a simple pearl bracelet she’d found among other jewelry in a smaller bag inside the suitcase and headed downstairs, fingers crossed she wouldn’t make a fool of herself.
Unsure as to which direction to head, her confusion must have shown, as a uniformed servant approached.
“The family is in the Great Room.”
“Ah, thank you. And where might that be? Back home I only have a mediocre room at best.”
“Yes, miss,” he said, turning to escort her down one of the halls.
As stony faced as he was, Rhonda swore she saw the corners of his mouth kick up. She guessed grandma didn’t approve of joking with the help.
She entered the room and tried desperately not to look like a peon as she forced her mouth shut. This room predated the others she’d seen by at least two centuries. The elaborate hammer-beam ceiling had to be fifteenth century. An ornate medieval stone fireplace, large enough to hold a baseball team, heated the room. Rhonda felt sorry for whoever had to clean the three massive iron chandeliers hanging at least twenty feet in the air. The sheer size of the room was ridiculous… and awesome. This was “not casual”?
“There she is.” Lady Helen was the first to see her.
Blake stood and came toward her, her heartbeat kicking up a notch. The last time she’d seen him in a suit had been the tux for Maggie’s wedding. She’d nearly forgotten how good he could look all decked out—nearly. Tonight he wore a blue Armani, with matching tie and silver blue shirt. If that didn’t make a woman want to tear his clothes off, she was blind.
“You look lovely.” His politeness was a contradiction to the lecherous leer on his face. He truly was the cad his mother had accused him of being.
“Thanks, you too.” An understatement. “Nice room,” she whispered.
“One of many. Unfortunately, in the fifteenth century, size mattered.”
Rhonda refused to take the bait and gave him her best you’re not funny glare.
Blake shrugged. “Have to amuse myself somehow. I’m sorry, but father left for London. You might not meet him on this trip. He’s trying to find another way to contest the will.”
This trip? She brushed it off as a slip of the tongue.
“What are you two whispering about?” his grandmother called out.
“Nothing of consequence,” Blake replied without turning to address her. “Come.” He held out his arm.
She took it, assuming this was acceptable behavior and not another attempt at screwing up their deal. “Wow, that was almost civil.”
“Blame my mother,” he replied, leading her into the massive room.
Seated on a chocolate-colored leather sofa were unmistakably Blake’s twin and his stunning wife. The brothers resembled each other, but she was thankful she could tell them apart. Could the world handle two such beautiful men?
/> Colin was more handsome than beautiful. The men shared their mother’s sparkling eyes, but she remembered Blake’s hair as lighter. But who knew? Blake was quite adept with hair dye. His wife could have passed for Nicole Kidman’s twin—after Tom Cruise. The actress had always been beautiful, but after the drama of her divorce, she’d become an iconic beauty, a woman who, like Sarah, seemed to have the world at her feet.
Blake introduced them. “This sod,” he indicated his brother “is my brother, Colin, the seventeenth Duke of Oakley. And beside him is his wife, the Duchess.”
If Sarah was offended by the flippant introduction, she didn’t let on. Instead, she extended her hand, or rather four fingers. “We’ve never met any of Blake’s co-workers. We certainly never thought to meet one so pretty.”
She appeared intrigued by Blake’s coming home with a woman and genuine in her compliment. Who did she think she was kidding? Rhonda couldn’t help but notice the pendant around Sarah’s neck. At least three inches and encrusted with diamonds, it resembled the blade of a sword. But the sharp edges on the piece didn’t come close to the woman’s cutting blue eyes. Rhonda returned the fake smile. “Nice to meet you too, your Grace. That’s a lovely pendant.” Sooner or later she was going to mess up the title thing, but for now, Rhonda thought she’d gotten it right.
“Thank you.” She brushed her fingers over it, oddly protective. “Colin surprised me last year for our anniversary,” she said, shifting her attention to Blake.
Someone could slice the tension between these two with a plastic knife.
Rhonda reached out and shook hands with Colin, who strangely remained seated. “Nice job,” she said, cringing, when she realized she’d let them distract her and she’d forgotten to add his title. That was going to start sounding really dumb soon. “Er, your Grace?” Did one curtsey to a seated person?
“Please call me Colin, and thank you. Sarah got me that.” He pointed to the ghastly mounted stag’s head over the fireplace. “She’s an excellent shot.”
Was it rude to gag? Rhonda forced herself to smile. “It’s impressive.” Afraid the woman would see just how impressive Rhonda thought it was, she avoided eye contact with Sarah.
“And my wife is right,” Colin continued, giving his wife such a loving smile that any woman would be envious. “Blake never brings anyone home. It would be a shame to scare you off with all these formalities.”
She heard a snort from their grandmother, who was seated to Colin’s left, in a gorgeous chair that Rhonda was certain was an original Chippendale.
“Actually, he’s doing me a favor. I’ve always wanted to see Scotland.”
Colin nodded with genuine interest. She hadn’t lied. She’d always wanted to travel.
But something didn’t feel right. Sarah was easy. She saw Blake as a threat, ergo Rhonda could also be a threat. But Colin? Wasn’t it bad manners not to stand when a woman came into a room? Back home, she might be lucky to get a wave from a guy just before he plunked his ass in a chair. But here, in this aristocratic family?
“Make sure he takes you to McDonough’s Pub. It’s a lot more fun than drafty castles.”
“Colin,” the dowager chastised, “the last thing this family needs is yet another incident at the hands of your brother.”
“She does realize I’m in the room?” Blake asked his mother who had remained standing by the fire. “She hasn’t gone entirely bonkers, has she?”
“You can insult me all you want. ’Tis you who has embarrassed the family,” the old lady said in her defense.
“Mother, that was more than ten years ago,” said Lady Helen. “Can you not let it go?”
“Oh, I see.” Clearly she didn’t. “I must let it go, but it’s perfectly fine if he insults me?”
“No, it is not. Blake, hold your tongue,” Lady Helen chastised.
Blake didn’t look happy about being reprimanded, but said nothing.
Great. What a fun dinner this is going to be.
“Rhonda, can Giles get you something?” Lady Helen asked. “A glass of wine, perhaps?”
Giles, she assumed, was the uniformed dude with the gloved hands. How many servants did they have?
“Soda water, Giles, please, and a slice of lemon,” Blake answered for her.
She was going to smack him. No way in hell was he not doing this on purpose. Ordering her a drink wouldn’t necessarily look like they were more than friends, but add it to the hand holding and telling his mother he’d told her everything, and no one would believe they were just friends. Blake did a good job of avoiding eye contact, proving her suspicions were not unfounded. Was he trying to make Sarah jealous?
The woman was the epitome of the kind of lady she’d expected Blake to date. Blond and beautiful, sophisticated and polished enough to have been born with a silver spoon jammed in her mouth. So why had they broken up? She doubted Colin had anything to do with it. Rhonda took the drink from Giles and caught Sarah giving her the stink eye. Was it possible the woman still had feelings for Blake? Had there been some kind of love triangle? The unanswered questions were driving her crazy.
Luckily, the pre-dinner conversation pretty much ignored her as the brothers played catch-up. Funny, she didn’t see Colin as the weak man who wouldn’t be able to handle his wife leaving him. He appeared as confident and capable as his twin. The dowager took no more potshots at Blake, but rather had turned her evil, assessing eyes to Rhonda, who did her best to look invisible.
“Dinner is served,” said yet another servant.
“Excellent, I’m famished.” Sarah, the first to rise, smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her expensive fit and flare peach evening dress, a color Rhonda wouldn’t have expected someone with such pale skin to be able to pull off. But Sarah did. One more reason to hate her.
Rhonda remained seated as the others rose, all except Colin. And she began to suspect she understood the reason why Lady Helen was protective of her son. Could Colin not walk? Was that why Sarah leaving would destroy him? She waited and watched as he braced his hand on an arm of the sofa and pushed himself to his feet. She let out her breath. She’d been wrong. Then he took his first step and then another, the movement jerky, awkward. He couldn’t bend his knees.
She stood, embarrassed to see Blake catch her staring at Colin’s legs. He gave an almost imperceptible shrug, his smile apologetic. They met halfway.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” he whispered, escorting her out to the dining room.
But it wasn’t a dining room. It was a dining hall, big enough to host at least sixty. In the center was a cherry table, capable of seating thirty but set only for their group. On either side of the row of dishes were two tall candelabras lit up with six candles each. There was enough glam on the table to rival Vegas. She didn’t want to guess at how old the plates were.
As the others took their assigned seats, Blake pulled out a chair for her, oddly next to his mother. Lady Helen smiled as Rhonda sat.
“I requested that you sit by me. Normally it would be Blake, but he’s not in my good books these days, and I’d like to get to know you better.”
Oh goodie, she was going to have to lie even more. Could she feel any worse? To top it off, Sarah tossed another evil glare her way. Ah yes, they were going to be the best of friends.
“Mother, don’t hound her. You know what we do is confidential,” Blake said, making any questions about work off limits.
Wow, she hadn’t thought of that. A good thing he had.
“Blake, darling, the last thing a mother wants to hear is all about the dangers her son puts himself in. Now sit down and be quiet.”
“Yes, Blake.” Colin commented from the opposite side of the table. “Be a good boy and allow Mother to interrogate the poor woman.”
“Don’t listen to my sons, dear. I should have let their father take the switch to them, instead of interfering.”
The dowager harrumphed, but to her credit said nothing.
“Where in New York do you live
?” Lady Helen asked, as one of the servants ladled soup into her bowl.
She reminded herself not to slurp. “I don’t. I live in Las Vegas.”
“Oh?”
Had all of Blake’s games made Lady Helen think they lived together? Clearly everyone had, because the relief on Sarah’s face was almost comical. But Colin shared the disappointment with his mother. His grandmother was unreadable. If she’d known it would have this effect, she’d have mentioned where she lived sooner.
Luckily, Lady Helen was more curious about Vegas than anything else, and dinner conversation was limited to life in what the grandmother considered one of the gaudiest cities in the world. Rhonda didn’t take too much offense. She wasn’t that far off. But it wasn’t fair to confuse the tourist trade with the entire city. Vegas had many good points.
The second course was a shrimp cup with shrimp the size of a child’s fist.
“How are you liking Scotland?” Sarah asked, lowering herself to speak to Rhonda since the first course had been served.
She’d opened her mouth to answer, when the grandmother answered for her. This family had a bad habit of doing that.
“They only flew in this morning,” she snapped. “Miss Deagan hasn’t seen anything of consequence.”
Rhonda would beg to differ. What she had seen was breathtaking, but she kept her mouth shut.
“Oh yes, of course, I apologize.” Sarah shot an additional dagger Rhonda’s way.
What—now it was her fault she got yelled at?
“Don’t apologize for asking a simple question,” Blake jumped in, being civil to Sarah for the first time all evening. “It was all I could do to keep Rhonda in the car on the drive up. She was practically jumping up and down.”
“I was not.” She was.
“Yes, you were. I’d say what you saw, she liked. Didn’t you?”
Rhonda grinned from ear to ear, recalling the landscape. “God’s country,” she exclaimed. “I’ve never seen anything so breathtaking.” She bit into a shrimp and chewed. She wasn’t much into seafood, but this was good.
“Were you born in Las Vegas?” Colin asked.