Surprise Baby for the Heir

by Ellie Darkins

She smiled. He was right. This wasn’t about them. This was about doing what was right for their baby. Their feelings for one another didn’t have to come into it at all.

  ‘To the baby,’ she said, clinking her glass against his and taking a sip.

  But just because she had let this conversation rest for now, that didn’t mean it was over. There was still so much that they didn’t understand about one another’s lives, and she wasn’t sure how they were ever going to reconcile that. There was a part of him, and of her child now, that would always feel like a stranger to her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘IS IT GOING to be big enough?’ Fraser asked a few weeks later, as they viewed an apartment in Edinburgh’s exclusive West End.

  Big enough? She looked around the room that she was standing in. The floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the old Regency room with light, which reflected back at her from the gilt work on the ceiling, the white marble of the enormous fireplace, the top of the grand piano and the polished floorboards beneath her feet.

  You could have fitted her family’s whole semi-detached bungalow into this one room. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating a little—but only a little. When Fraser had said that he was going to find an apartment in the city, she’d envisaged a two-bedroomed bachelor flat, just a room for him and a nursery for the baby. Not this luxury.

  She was reminded once again of how different their lives were. How their homes would always look so different. His filled with designer furnishings and a grand piano, just ‘because’, and hers with medical equipment and stray stethoscopes.

  ‘It’s plenty big enough,’ she said with a slightly brittle laugh. ‘How big do you think this baby is going to be?’

  ‘Ah, but I’ve done my research,’ Fraser said, smiling and pointing a finger in the general direction of her newly apparent baby bump. ‘A baby equals about seven or eight pounds and twenty inches long. The stuff that comes with one is approximately the size and mass of the Milky Way.’

  Elspeth laughed again—properly this time. ‘Well, I guess that depends on how much stuff you buy. Me and my mum and my sister manage in somewhere half the size of this, and we come with about thirty years’ worth of accumulated junk and a shedload of medical equipment.’

  Fraser’s face fell, and she guessed he was only just starting to see how different the experiences they brought to this relationship were.

  ‘But wouldn’t you want more space if it were an option? Would you just “manage” if you didn’t have to?’

  ‘I’m not good with hypotheticals,’ Elspeth said, any trace of laughter gone from her voice. Was he judging her? For having less money? A smaller house than he did?

  ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s make this less hypothetical.’

  Fraser spoke quickly, and she wondered how much of her annoyance had shown on her face.

  ‘This baby is going to have a lot of money at his or her disposal. I think we ought to talk about how we’re going to approach that.’

  Elspeth crossed her arms. Still wondering whether he was criticising. Judging. ‘I don’t want to raise a spoiled brat.’

  Fraser raised an eyebrow. ‘And do I fall into that category?’

  Elspeth shrugged. ‘I never said that.’ Out loud.

  ‘But you know that I was raised with money. Do you think it’s made me a bad person? Am I a brat?’

  Well, if he was going to ask a leading question...

  ‘You know what you want,’ she replied, not directly answering his question. ‘You’re good at getting it. You expect to get it.’

  He oozed confidence and privilege with an ease that made it apparent he didn’t realise he was doing it. It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help the position he’d been born into any more than anyone else could. But that didn’t mean he should be ignorant of it.

  ‘I’m not sure I should apologise for that,’ he said.

  She didn’t point out that she’d never asked him to. They both knew her criticism had been implied.

  ‘It’s just not what I’m used to,’ Elspeth said, trying to be conciliatory. ‘I’m sure we’ll find a middle ground.’

  ‘I want to make sure that my child is provided for.’

  ‘And I’m not capable of doing that?’ Being conciliatory didn’t extend to ignoring his criticism of how she took care of her family.

  ‘I just don’t see why you don’t want me to spend the money I’ve worked hard to make on our bairn.’

  She smiled, unable to help herself, at the words ‘our bairn’ from his lips. From the look on his face as he’d said it.

  ‘Let me look after both of you,’ he continued, sitting back on the arm of the nearest sofa, his body language relaxed and open. ‘All three of us.’

  Reluctantly, she smiled and nodded, intoxicated by the sight of Fraser in his new role as doting dad. She sat in the armchair beside him, tucking her feet underneath her.

  ‘You know, we’ve never really talked much about your family,’ Fraser went on. ‘Tell me more about caring for your sister. How is it with the three of you living together?’

  ‘It’s the only arrangement that makes sense. I do as much of Sarah’s care as I can myself. Sarah’s mentioned getting her own place, but I don’t think she really appreciates what that would mean. More care from strangers...less from me and Mum. I hate the thought of it.’

  ‘And did your ex live with you too?’ Fraser asked, throwing her a curveball by mentioning Alex.

  She shook her head. ‘No. In fact we called things off when it became clear that it wasn’t going to work for him. And he was right. We never stood a chance—not with all the other responsibilities I have in my life. He would always have had to share me with my family. It wasn’t fair on him.’

  ‘I’m starting to think he didn’t deserve you,’ Fraser said. ‘But tell me more about caring for your sister,’ he added, looking genuinely interested. ‘I want to understand what your life is like.’

  She didn’t bother correcting him about Alex. She had been right to call things off. But Fraser had asked about Sarah, and she smiled, much happier talking about her sister than her failed attempt at being a fiancée.

  ‘My whole job is to make sure she can do whatever she needs to and to help her do as much for herself as she can manage. A lot of it is pretty basic: cutting up food, making drinks, driving her to medical appointments. Then there’s the more specialised stuff, like physio, her medication—that sort of thing. She’s stubborn and fierce and independent, so I’m just there to fill in the gaps when she can’t do something she wants to. She was born when I was twelve; I’ve helped to care for her all my adult life, so I don’t really know things any other way and nor does she.’

  Fraser smiled. ‘Sounds like you two are quite the team. Do you have outside help?’

  Elspeth shrugged. ‘Only in an emergency. Why would we have someone else in when we are such a good team?’

  ‘It would give you more time,’ Fraser suggested gently.

  ‘I don’t want time. Not if it means compromises for Sarah.’

  ‘You love her very much,’ he said plainly. ‘I can’t wait to see you love our baby like that.’

  She met his eyes, and for a second they held each other’s gaze, feeling all the potential of a future life, their future family, between them.

  ‘I’ll get in touch with my lawyer, then. Start sorting out some paperwork for our finances.’

  Elspeth sat back, dropping her feet to the floor and straightening her spine, surprised by his change of direction. ‘Lawyers? We’re at lawyers? What happened to “We’ll find a middle ground”? I thought we were working this out ourselves?’

  ‘We will. We are—of course we are. But I want the baby to have security. For ever. I want you to know that whatever happens you’ll be provided for.’

  ‘Well, there’s nothing melodramatic in that sentence to t
errify me,’ Elspeth replied, taking a step away from him.

  What was he planning on happening? Was he creating an escape plan for himself?

  ‘I’m not being melodramatic.’ Fraser’s voice was darker now. Serious. ‘I’m being practical. Families break up. Parents make mistakes. I just want to know that our baby is always going to be taken care of.’

  Her instinct was to bite back, to remind him that he was going absolutely nowhere and neither was she. They were going to raise this baby together, just as they had agreed. But then she remembered the look in his eyes when he had spoken about his father. That sad, confused teenager he had been was still just under the surface, still didn’t understand why his relationship with his father had broken down, and she decided not to push it.

  This conversation was just a symptom of a deeper problem. And the only way to deal with that was for Fraser to come to terms with what had happened between him and his dad.

  She thought about the money too. Thought about the years of medical costs and on-call shifts and waiting for payday ahead of her. Knowing that at least her baby would be well provided for had relieved her of a pressure she hadn’t even realised she was feeling.

  ‘You’re right. Have your lawyer do whatever you think is necessary.’ She waited a beat and then asked, ‘Have you thought any more about your dad?’

  Fraser shot her a dark look, but she decided to press on. She and Fraser didn’t know each other that well, but it was clear that his relationship with his father was going to affect his relationship with their child. She didn’t want this baby born into conflict or uncertainty—if there was confrontation to be had, it would have to happen before the baby arrived.

  ‘About going to see him?’ she added, when Fraser stayed silent.

  ‘It’s complicated,’ he replied, as if that was an end of the matter.

  ‘Of course it is. That’s why if it’s going to happen I think it’s best to do it well before the baby is here. The last thing we need is to be trekking up to the Highlands when I’m nine months gone.’

  ‘We?’

  Elspeth felt her cheeks colour. She’d assumed that she would be going with him. This was all about the baby, after all. And it wasn’t as if the baby could go up there without her right now. But obviously Fraser hadn’t been planning on introducing her to his family yet. Oh, well, she was too far into this thing to succumb to embarrassment now.

  ‘Yes, we,’ she said. ‘I thought you wanted your dad to know about the baby?’

  ‘I know I have to tell him about it. I thought I’d call him. He’s not exactly going to demand to see the evidence. I’m not going up there and you don’t have to either, Elspeth. It’s going to be...awkward.’

  ‘Of course it is. That’s why I’m offering to be your wingman. Wing-woman. Whatever.’

  She strengthened her resolve. He needed her there. This was going to be a hideously awkward family reunion, and a neutral observer would keep things on track.

  ‘This is not the sort of conversation you have on the phone. I think you should just go up there and get it done. I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Really? You’d do that? Walk smack-bang into the middle of someone else’s family drama?’

  She shrugged. ‘Well, I think we’re family now. Your family drama is my family drama. And in my experience awkward family stuff usually goes better if you have a drinking partner.’

  At last he cracked a smile. ‘You’re not going to be much use on that front.’

  Elspeth threw up her hands and laughed softly, relieved that the tension in the room had broken. ‘I will happily drink cups of tea while feeding you whisky and mopping up your tears.’

  ‘Well, that’s a definition of love if ever I heard one.’

  Elspeth laughed again, but couldn’t deny to herself the warm glow of something that she felt in the pit of her stomach. Fraser was right. That was family. That was friendship. Wanting to sit with someone and share their pain. To offer support through something difficult even when you stood to gain nothing. That was what you did for someone that you loved. She’d do it unquestioningly for her mother and Sarah. For a handful of her friends. And now, it seemed, for Fraser.

  Friendly love. Family love. That was what he had meant. Not love love. He didn’t think she loved him. And she absolutely didn’t—she was quite sure about that. But just the mention of the L word had done something to the atmosphere in the room.

  The sun had set while they had been talking, and the lamps placed around the room now seemed more mood lighting than bright and welcoming. The soft throw rugs on the white sofa looked sensuous and inviting, and the candle burning on the mantel seemed romantic rather than staged to sell a house.

  Suddenly she was standing too close to him, and yet not close enough. Before she realised what she was doing she had taken half a step forward, and he had done the same. Leaving only the space of a breath between her face and his chest.

  Elspeth looked up, surprised all over again by how he towered above her, and she felt a shiver of desire as she remembered what it was to be dominated by him. How it had felt to be with him...how aware she had been of his height, his size...how powerful she had felt giving up control to him.

  His hand landed on the small of her back at the same moment that her fingertips brushed against his chest, and she had a split second to decide whether she was pulling him closer or pushing him away. Her body swayed towards him, leaving her in no doubt about where her baser instincts wanted her to take this. But reason won out at the last moment and she held her breath, pressing gently against Fraser’s chest as she retraced her steps, putting some much-needed space between them.

  ‘I like the apartment,’ she said, aware of how inane the words sounded given what had just almost happened between them.

  She looked up, curious to see how Fraser would take the change of direction. He raised an eyebrow, and that tiny gesture showed her that he knew exactly what had just nearly happened between them, and that he had seen her swerve perfectly clearly. But he let it lie, and she figured he was as relieved as she was that they hadn’t complicated things by giving in to a momentary spike of lust.

  They had been perfectly clear with one another that nothing like that was on the cards between them. They just had to be sure to remember it when they were tempted.

  ‘I’ll take it, then,’ Fraser said.

  It took Elspeth a moment to remember that he was talking about the apartment. And then another to marvel at the fact that he could make the decision just like that on a property purchase that must run into seven figures. And then she took another moment to remember that this was the life her child was being born into. Would it feel normal for her child, one day, to drop upwards of a million pounds on a second home just because it was more convenient than the castle out in the country where it normally resided?

  No, she reminded herself. Because regardless of where Fraser had been born, and regardless of whether he patched things up with his father, this baby would be living with her. Her and her mother and Sarah, in their comfortable bungalow with only a few decades of memories and zero coats of arms on the walls.

  ‘We’ve not even seen all of it yet,’ she reminded him.

  Though, on reflection, reminding him that they hadn’t seen the bedrooms maybe wasn’t her most sensible move. He stood back, gesturing her towards the hallway from where several doorways led off. She tried not to feel self-conscious as she walked ahead of him. Tried not to wonder whether he was looking at her bottom in the close-fitting shift dress she had chosen to wear that morning.

  It had seemed sensible and professional when she had chosen it. Now it seemed sensuous. She knew that it made the most of the few curves she had, and she couldn’t help but wonder whether Fraser had noticed. Had that been what was really on her mind when she had taken it off the hanger a few hours before?

  She opened the first
door she came to and gave the opulent bathroom a nod. It was big, luxurious and marble. Exactly what she’d expect of a bathroom in an apartment in this part of town. The next door revealed a bedroom, its enormous bed piled high with more pillows, blankets, bedspreads and throws than a bachelor could ever need.

  She had a brief thought, not quite fully formed, that this would be where Fraser would sleep—and that he wouldn’t always do so alone—and shut the door. Both on the thought and on the bed.

  She caught Fraser’s eye, and knew that he had clocked something but decided not to say anything. Wise man.

  She opened the next door, prepared just to glance inside and then close it as quickly, but the sight of an enormous white cot-bed made her pause with her hand still on the doorknob, temporarily winded.

  ‘Wow...’ The sound fell out of her mouth, barely a word, and she found she didn’t have any more to follow it.

  She couldn’t look away from the cot. The changing table. The tiny wardrobe and the baskets stuffed with toys. This was where her baby would sleep. This was where they would change her or dress him. Rock her to sleep in the chair by the window. Would he learn to crawl on the plush rug in front of the fireplace?

  It took her a few moments more to remember that she had the picture all wrong. Her baby might sleep here sometimes. Fraser might change him or her on that table. Might see first steps on that rug. But she wouldn’t be here. This was where her baby would live when she didn’t live with her.

  A pain spiked at Elspeth as the knowledge that they were far from a perfectly nuclear family struck her afresh.

  Her child would have two homes. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to a child. Not least because it meant that it would have two parents who were completely devoted to it. But not to each other. There would always be hard choices. Awkward Christmases and long holidays without one parent or the other.

  Elspeth reminded herself again of all the ways her baby was lucky. All the incredible advantages he or she would have in life. But she couldn’t help feel a little sad that this unconventional but oh, so practical parenting arrangement meant that a lot of the time one parent or the other would be conspicuous by their absence.