Pregnant on the Earl's Doorstep, page 16
He knew her reasons. But he couldn’t understand them.
He’d always assumed that when it came to relationships it would be him who couldn’t make it work. Who pulled back for fear of the world learning the truth about his family, or because he really was a product of his gene pool and incapable of true love.
But in the end he’d overcome all that—and it still hadn’t been enough.
He’d felt those old walls and old beliefs rising up again that night when Heather had left. But in the morning Daisy and Ryan had been there, a constant reminder of why he had to fight to be more than his own father had been. Why love mattered even when it hurt.
‘What do you and Ryan want to do?’ Cal asked, realising belatedly that he had never asked them. ‘Go to Derryford or stay here with me, even if Heather isn’t here? You’d have to go to the village school, but I always quite liked it there.’
‘Stay at Lengroth,’ Daisy said promptly. ‘Ryan would be miserable away from Lengroth. And besides, I think you need us.’
Cal smiled. ‘I think I do, too. Well, that’s decided, then.’
And with that one thing sorted, things began to fall into place.
Anna’s editor wasn’t exactly accommodating now there were no engagement photos to publish, but eventually they reached an agreement. He refused to let Anna back into the castle, but did submit to a lengthy, open and honest phone interview with one of her colleagues, and agreed that they could use the photos Anna had taken at Lengroth.
People were still going to talk. A lot. But Cal didn’t care. The truth was the truth, and lying about it wouldn’t change it.
He did have to sit down with Daisy and Ryan and tell them everything, however, in the most age-appropriate way he could manage. Apparently they were far better eavesdroppers than he’d given them credit for—as was Mrs Peterson. And the housekeeper had been far less discreet than he’d hoped.
Which was another uncomfortable conversation he’d have to have...
Cal cornered the housekeeper who’d run Lengroth like clockwork since he was a child as she was making apple pie.
‘When you called me the night Ross died you told me they were coming home from a party. But that was a lie, wasn’t it?’
She shook the flour from her hands. ‘It was.’
‘Why?’
‘Because that’s what we do at Lengroth. We hide the things we don’t want other people to see.’
‘Not any more,’ Cal said firmly. ‘Sit down and tell me the truth.’
And she did. She told him about all the women Ross had paraded through the castle, right in front of his wife and children. About the late-night poker games when the attendees had ended up taking home precious heirlooms instead of the money Ross owed them.
‘Why didn’t you call me? Tell me what was happening?’
Mrs Peterson shrugged. ‘He was the Earl.’
‘And the night they died?’
‘Janey lost her patience—finally. I don’t know what it was that did it, but it could have been any one of a hundred things Ross did. She told him she was leaving—packed a bag and everything.’
‘She didn’t take the kids?’
‘I think she knew that Ross wouldn’t let her. And as the Earl he had more power. I don’t know. I don’t think she was thinking straight. They’d both been drinking, I know that.’
‘So what happened?’
Mrs Peterson toyed with the apple peeler on the table. ‘She got in the car, ready to drive away, but he forced his way into the passenger seat. Told her she couldn’t go anywhere without him—people would talk. She drove off anyway. And that was the last time I ever saw them alive.’
Cal shuddered, thankful beyond belief that Janey hadn’t tried to take the children. He might have lost everyone in one awful night, and all because Ross hadn’t wanted the world to know that his wife was leaving him.
The magazine hit the stands the next day, with the article and photos already up on the website and gaining comments the night before. Cal woke that morning to a throng of reporters gathered around the gates, waiting for a comment.
‘What do I do with them?’ Mrs Peterson asked.
Cal shrugged. ‘Offer them a cup of tea?’
He’d told the truth, answered the questions, and now it was up to others to think what they wanted about it.
Inside Lengroth Castle with Daisy and Ryan, his family, he felt safe and happy. Or as happy as he could be with a hole in his home where Heather should be.
‘What are you going to do?’ Mrs Peterson called after him.
‘Talk to the kids about redecorating their rooms,’ Cal answered over his shoulder.
It was time to bring some new life into the castle, he’d decided.
* * *
The reporters were still there the next day, too, happily munching the bacon butties Mrs Peterson had made them. Cal ignored them, looking at wallpaper and paint swatches with the kids in the playroom instead.
At least until Ryan looked out of the window and yelled, ‘Look!’
Cal crossed to the window seat and looked. And then he smiled as, down below, Heather walked through the gates of Lengroth Castle, a rubber duck under her arm.
* * *
Heather had made it all the way to Scotland before anyone had recognised her from the magazine photos, and even then they hadn’t been too hard to put off. But here at Lengroth, with a crowd of reporters thronging around the main gate, there was no pretending to be anyone other than exactly who she was.
The pregnant one-night stand of the late Earl.
Or maybe the fiancée of the new Earl’s uncle—if the offer still stood.
Climbing out of the taxi, Heather took a deep breath, adjusted the rubber duck she’d carried all the way from London King’s Cross, and grabbed her bag.
‘Good luck, Heather.’ Harris the taxi driver threw her a grin. ‘I reckon you’ll all be fine now you’re back.’
‘I hope so. And thanks.’
Maybe this wouldn’t be all bad.
‘Heather! Heather!’
The reporters were calling her name before she even reached the gates. Heather ignored them—especially the ones calling out questions that asked her to ‘compare and contrast’ the two brothers.
Finally, as she opened the gate, she spun to face them. ‘Thank you all for your interest,’ she said, as they fell silent apart from the click of the odd camera shutter. ‘But this is a family matter. And I’d like to get home to my family, please.’
If they’d still have her.
The questions and shouting started up again immediately, but Heather barely heard it. Because when she turned towards the castle again she saw Cal, standing at the top of the seventeen stone steps that led to the front door, waiting for her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said as she reached the first step.
‘I thought you were never coming back.’ Cal jumped down a few steps to meet her sooner, sweeping her into his arms as soon as she reached the middle step. ‘I’ve never been so happy to be wrong.’
‘Me, neither,’ Heather admitted. ‘I couldn’t stay away. And my dad made me see that I shouldn’t. I love you—and Daisy and Ryan. I belong here, and so does our baby.’
‘Too right.’ Cal kissed her, hard and deep, dipping her over his arm as a cheer went up from the reporters at the gate. ‘Wait—our baby?’
‘Our family, really, I thought. If you still want to marry me?’
‘In a heartbeat,’ Cal answered, and kissed her again.
This time, the cheer that went up was much closer, and Heather opened her eyes to find Daisy and Ryan watching from the doorway.
‘You’re really getting married?’ Ryan asked.
‘You’re staying this time?’ Daisy added.
Heather and Cal exchanged a glance.
‘Yes, to both,’ Heather said, smiling widely. ‘Want to be bridesmaid?’
Daisy rolled her eyes. ‘No. But I’ll help you choose the food.’
‘Even better.’
‘Guess what, Heather!’ Ryan grabbed her arm as he spoke. ‘We’re not going away to school! We’re staying here.’
‘I’m so glad,’ Heather said. ‘I’d have missed you too much if you’d gone.’
‘We all missed you,’ Cal said. ‘So maybe it’s best that we just stay together from now on—agreed?’
‘A family?’ Daisy asked tentatively. ‘You two, us, Mrs Peterson and the baby?’
Behind them, Mrs Peterson looked surprised to be included—but Heather was almost certain she saw a tear in the housekeeper’s eye.
‘All of us,’ Heather said firmly. ‘Together.’
‘Always,’ Cal confirmed.
And as he spoke Heather could have sworn she saw another figure—a thin white figure, almost transparent in the late-summer sunshine—behind Mrs Peterson. A ghostly figure that raised a hand in farewell, then disappeared.
Heather lifted her own hand automatically, before realising there was no one there to see it. The Lengroth ghost had moved on at last. Maybe because the Bryce family no longer needed a reminder of the harm their misdeeds could cause, Heather thought with a smile.
Suddenly the whole castle felt lighter. As if years of secrets and lies had been lifted from the stones.
Heather gathered her family close and, with their arms around each other, they all headed into Lengroth Castle.
Together.
EPILOGUE
THE DARK METAL gates of Lengroth Castle were thrown open in the summer sunshine, and crowds of wedding guests were pouring through to celebrate with Heather and Uncle Cal on this glorious July day. Daisy watched them through the playroom window for a while, before deciding she probably had better put on her dress before Heather came looking for her.
It was, Daisy thought, exactly a year to the day since she’d thrown a rubber duck through that same window—the day Heather had arrived at Lengroth. She smiled to herself. Every table at the wedding breakfast had a rubber duck as part of its centrepiece—one wearing a top hat, another dressed as a centurion, a rubber duck sphinx and so on. Daisy didn’t know where Heather had found them, but they were pretty funny.
Her dress wasn’t too bad, either, Daisy thought as she put it on. Heather had let her choose—and had let her off bridesmaid duties, too, which Daisy was glad about. She didn’t want everyone staring at her today. She wanted to sit with Ryan and Heather’s dad—who had said to call him Grandpa Bill—and just enjoy it all.
Today, after all the awfulness of last year, they were going to be a family again.
And the new baby was cute. Daisy thought it was nice that they had someone they could all share, who belonged to all of them together.
Heather and Uncle Cal had called him Will, after her dad. Ryan had pointed out that it wasn’t actually the same name. He cried a lot, but he always seemed to stop when Daisy sang him songs. In the end she and Ryan had decided that Will was better than a puppy—but they still kind of wanted a dog, too.
Uncle Cal had said they’d go and pick one after the honeymoon. Heather had given him a big kiss when he’d said that, which was strange, as Daisy hadn’t thought Heather was really a dog person.
Checking her reflection in the mirror, Daisy saw a flicker of movement behind her and smiled. She knew who that was.
She turned slowly, so as not to spook the ghost, and then laughed at herself for being silly. Ghosts weren’t scared of people.
Heather thought the ghost had left the day she’d come back to the castle, but Daisy knew better. Yes, she’d mostly gone, but every now and again, on important days, she came back—just to check on them. Daisy liked her. She was the only person she’d had to talk to, apart from Ryan, when her parents had died—and Ryan had been too little and too much of a boy to understand.
‘Hello,’ Daisy said. ‘Have you come to check that we’re still all right?’
The ghost nodded.
Daisy sat down on the bed to pull on her shiny silver shoes. ‘We’re fine. Better than fine, really. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but Uncle Cal and Heather are getting really good at this family thing. I still miss Mum and Dad but...we’re happy. All of us together. So you don’t need to worry any more.’
The ghost smiled. Daisy didn’t think she’d seen her do that before.
‘Oh, and if you come to visit over the next couple of weeks we won’t be here,’ Daisy added quickly as the ghost started to fade. ‘We’re all going on honeymoon together, you see. Uncle Cal says it’ll be more fun if we’re together. Mrs Peterson is coming, too—to help with the baby.’
And, Daisy suspected, to let Uncle Cal and Heather have some time alone. Really, she was eleven now. She understood more than they thought.
She wondered if maybe their family might grow again soon. That would be okay, she decided. Especially if she got a dog, too.
‘Daisy? Are you ready?’ Heather appeared in the doorway just as the ghost vanished completely. ‘Oh, you look beautiful!’
‘You look nice, too,’ Daisy said.
It was true—Heather’s copper hair was tied up in some complicated plait at the back of her head, and her dress was ivory lace and pearls. But mostly she just looked so happy it shone out of her.
‘Shall we go and find the boys?’ Heather asked, holding a hand out to Daisy. ‘The sooner we get the wedding part over with, the sooner we can get to the dancing.’
Daisy rolled her eyes. Dancing was Heather’s favourite thing about getting married, it seemed. ‘Might as well.’
As they walked down the stone-floored hallways to the castle chapel Daisy thought she saw the ghost peeping out at them one last time.
‘Heather? You’ll never leave again, will you?’
When she’d first come back Daisy had asked her that every day—usually in a whisper at bedtime, so she could pretend she hadn’t really said it. But now she hadn’t asked her in months, she realised. Maybe because she already knew the answer. But it was still nice to hear it.
‘Never,’ Heather promised. ‘Nothing could take me away from you and Ryan, or Will, or Uncle Cal.’
‘Good.’ Daisy sneaked a look back at the ghost, who smiled again, then disappeared.
Somehow Daisy didn’t think she’d be back.
The Bryce family didn’t need watching over any more. Not now they had each other.
* * *
If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Sophie Pembroke!
Carrying Her Millionaire’s Baby
CEO’s Marriage Miracle
Road Trip with the Best Man
Island Fling to Forever
All available now!
Keep reading for an excerpt from Cinderella and the Billionaire by Marion Lennox.
We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Romance.
You adore a feel-good story! Harlequin Romance offers uplifting escapes featuring real, relatable women and strong, deeply desirable men. Experience the intensity, anticipation and sheer rush of falling in love.
Enjoy four new stories from Harlequin Romance every month!
Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!
Other ways to keep in touch:
Harlequin.com/newsletters
Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks
Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks
HarlequinBlog.com
Join Harlequin My Rewards and reward the book lover in you!
Earn points for every Harlequin print and ebook you buy, wherever and whenever you shop.
Turn your points into FREE BOOKS of your choice
OR
EXCLUSIVE GIFTS from your favorite authors or series.
Click here to join for FREE
Or visit us online to register at
www.HarlequinMyRewards.com
Harlequin My Rewards is a free program (no fees) without any commitments or obligations.
Cinderella and the Billionaire
by Marion Lennox
PROLOGUE
THE LACEWORK ON McLellan Place’s gatehouse looked almost perfect. From the helicopter, Matt and Henry saw the last piece being fitted into place. Once they landed they admired the result, agreeing with the foreman that it had been a major storm. The damage wasn’t the fault of workmanship.
If Matt had come by himself he might have headed straight back to Manhattan, but he was entertaining a seven-year-old. He and Henry therefore walked across the vast sweep of lawn to the main house beyond.
‘It’s big,’ Henry whispered as Matt led him into the massive kitchen and through to the butler’s pantry to find juice and cookies. The place was always stocked, even though Matt was lucky to arrive once a month.
The house was big, Matt conceded. With eight bathrooms and ten bedrooms, it was far too large for one semireclusive bachelor. But the East Hampton home, two hours’ drive or a short chopper ride from Manhattan, had been in his family for generations. Its upkeep kept a team of locals employed, its seclusion gave wildlife a precious refuge and it was as much a home as he’d ever known. It had been his refuge as a child from being dragged from one international hotel to another by his jet-setting parents.
Henry should have somewhere like this, he thought. McLellan Place was a far cry from the Manhattan legal offices where Henry seemed to spend half his life.
The seven-year-old was now sitting at the vast stretch of granite that formed the kitchen bench, seriously concentrating on his juice. He was nothing to do with Matt, but there was a part of Matt that connected with him.
Henry’s mother, Amanda, was one of Matt’s employees, a lawyer and a good one. Nothing got in the way of her work, including her son. When he wasn’t at school she left him in her office and often, somehow, he ended up in Matt’s office, reading or playing computer games.
