by Melody Anne
“Yes, thank you,” Whitney said.
They left Elise, and after walking for what seemed to be a mile, they stopped in front of an ornate door.
They were shown Brayden’s room first, and then Ally’s, which Whitney was grateful to learn was next to her own. She tugged on the girl’s hand anxiously.
“I’m fine, Aunt Whitney,” Ally told her. “I want to jump on my bed.”
“I’ll keep a good eye on her while you rest up from your trip,” Elise said, and Whitney walked reluctantly to her room next door.
“I’ll have your personal maid, Darcy, unpack your belongings while you take a bath,” Mr. Smotter said.
“I don’t need any help of that sort, but thank you.” Whitney turned the knob and opened the door to a room easily the size of her last apartment, the one she’d been renting before that tragic accident.
“Nonsense,” Mr. Smotter said, and he turned and walked away.
She barely made it inside before she was joined by a woman who looked old enough to be her great-grandmother. How could she possibly have the poor old woman do anything for her?
“I’ll begin putting your things away,” the woman told her briskly.
“That really isn’t necessary,” Whitney began as the woman unzipped her suitcase and dove on inside.
Whitney’s cheeks grew flushed. Just her luck — right on top were a couple of her favorite romance novels, with very risqué pictures on the cover. The maid looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
“Just so you know, we do have an extensive library here; you’ll have a lot of good books to read.”
Whitney couldn’t miss the disparaging look that the maid gave to those poor half-naked beauties on the covers, their bodices sadly ripped.
“I really can unpack on my own,” Whitney told the harpy, and quickly snatched the books from the woman’s hands.
Darcy was openly affronted, and Whitney could feel her face turning redder by the minute as this oh-so-proper maid stood there staring at her less than impeccably packed suitcase.
“It’s my job to get you unpacked,” Darcy said, and then turned away and continued what she was doing.
Whitney decided it was far easier to just let the woman do the work and not argue. So she stepped into the adjoining bathroom and felt as if she’d died and gone to heaven.
The bathtub against the back wall was big enough to swim in, and it had a window beside it with a view of the snowy rolling hills that seemed to stretch for miles. Maybe, just maybe, she could relax with a nice hot bath.
She turned on the tap, then took her time brushing her teeth and putting her hair up. The tub filled with amazing speed, and, after she added fragrant bath beads to the water, she sank down and let her worries melt away.
Somewhere in the distance she heard a knock on the door and a voice saying something or other, but she just didn’t care. The knocking became more insistent, and that’s when she shot awake.
“Dinner will be served at eight on the dot. Don’t be late. Mr. Liam doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Darcy called out through the closed door.
“Okay, we’ll be on time,” Whitney replied in an equally loud voice. She was willing to say anything to make the maid go away.
This tub and the relaxation it offered might be the only thing in the monstrous mansion that let her keep her sanity.
Chapter Six
They’re late,” Liam grumbled, and he looked at his father with evident impatience. He was a busy man, dammit.
“Son, they’ve had a long journey and could very easily have lost their way in this behemoth of a house,” Frederick said with a smile, which further irritated his son. The maid had been right, he didn’t like to be kept waiting. His time was valuable and he’d expect the guests they’d invited to appreciate that.
“Maybe asking them here was a bad idea. If they have such a lack of manners as to make their host hold dinner for them, perhaps we should have left them on the other side of the country,” Liam said. “I’d never thought of Oregon and hillbillies together, but I’m considering doing so now.” He turned to one of the staffers standing by and asked him to search for the missing trio. Before the man could leave, there was a ruckus outside the dining hall.
“Weren’t you the one who insisted on inviting them?” Frederick asked pointedly, but Liam ignored that remark.
Frederick and Liam turned toward the open double doors and watched as Whitney went racing by, quickly followed by a laughing Brayden and Ally. The chaos obviously amused Liam’s father. It most assuredly didn’t amuse Liam.
“Ah, they are a fresh wind blowing through these cold walls. Don’t you agree?” Frederick said with a chuckle.
“That’s nothing but unnecessary noise, Father.”
“It sounds as if our guests have arrived,” Mr. Smotter said.
Liam sent him a withering stare, which wiped the smile from the man’s face. What in the world was going on that his father’s butler would be making a joke about the barbarous behavior of these houseguests?
Liam winced when the three new people finally stepped into the formal dining room. He looked toward the staff members, but they refused to make eye contact with him. They weren’t supposed to, in any case. Liam wondered if no one had told Whitney or the children to dress more appropriately for dinner.
He and his father were both wearing exquisitely tailored dark suits, silk ties, and starched white shirts, as was expected when having guests. No, their clothes weren’t on the level of a tuxedo — this wasn’t that sort of an occasion — but they were sternly elegant. The most the two men dressed down for any meal was to don a fresh business suit. Even at picnics …
The little girl was wearing a summer dress, and the boy had on jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. Heck, headphones were hanging around his neck. Who had raised these children? Certainly not his brother. A man couldn’t have changed that drastically in a decade — or a little over a decade. Could he? Had Vince rejected everything he’d learned as a Felton?
Then Liam turned toward the children’s aunt. The first time he’d met her, the punch in his gut at the sight of her had shocked him. This time, he was more than irritated by the feeling because of the instant heat traveling straight to his loins at the sight she made standing there, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright, her smile almost … infectious.
He ran his eyes lower, noticing her nearly fitted cotton shirt and slacks. Was that her idea of sprucing up? No doubt. Still, at the same time that he damned her outfit as improper for the occasion, he found himself a bit envious. It did look more comfortable than what he was sporting.
“Mr. Felton, may I present Master Brayden, Miss Ally, and their aunt, Ms. Whitney Steele?” Mr. Smotter said to Frederick as the three approached the table.
The smiles of the newcomers dimmed as they apparently caught on to the mood of the room.
“I’m so sorry we’re late, but we got lost in the hallways, and then we seemed to be going in circles. I hope you didn’t wait on us,” Whitney said in one breath. She led the children to two open seats, and took one herself, not waiting for guidance. Little did she know that that, too, was a faux pas.
“I assure you we would never be so rude as to begin dinner until our guests managed to grace us with their presence,” Liam said stiffly.
Whitney’s already faltering smile now died completely.
Ally jumped out of her chair and ran over to Frederick. She, at least, was smiling once again; in fact, she was beaming.
“Are you my grandpa?” she asked him in awe.
The man’s simple “Yes” also sounded a bit awed.
“I love you,” she said. She launched herself into his lap and threw her arms around him.
Liam felt himself stiffen again. The love this child could share with a stranger was absolutely unexpected. When she turned, he had another shock — her profile was almost the spitting image of his brother’s when Vince was a child.
He cleared his throat, for a strange sc
ratchiness had suddenly made him feel unable to speak. His father, it was clear, also didn’t quite know what to do with the girl. Love hadn’t been an open invitation, or welcomed, for any of them in this cavernous home. Liam and his brother had never been encouraged to show affection. Too unseemly for people of their class.
“Well, then, it’s very nice to meet you, Miss Ally,” Frederick finally managed to choke out. He brought his hand up and rubbed her head for a moment before setting her gently back down on the floor.
“We really should start dinner now,” Liam said, giving Ally a stern look when she glanced his way. He didn’t want her to launch herself into his arms next. As soon as his words were out, the staff jumped to attention and sat Ally in her chair, and the first course was served.
“Are you my uncle?” Ally asked as she played with the soup in front of her, but didn’t bother to taste it.
Liam was almost mesmerized by the bubbles she was creating by her ritual splashings with the rounded silver spoon.
“Yes, I am,” he told her.
“That means you’re my father’s brother.”
“Was,” Liam corrected her, and he instantly felt like a heel. But he could tell from the way the little girl looked at him that she didn’t understand what he’d meant.
“Yes, Ally, your uncle Liam was only a couple of years younger than your daddy,” Whitney piped in.
“I am capable of answering the child’s questions,” Liam told her with a look that had stopped grown men in their tracks and reduced them to Jell-O.
It didn’t work on Whitney.
“It’s obvious you haven’t been around a lot of children, Mr. Felton. They don’t understand subtext or undertones. Ally still loves her father very much, even if he can’t be with her anymore, and you are still his brother.”
Everyone among the staff gasped as the soup was taken away. Liam understood the breach of behavior — his father’s servants never heard anyone put him in his place. It wasn’t a feeling he wanted to get used to.
Instead of replying with some biting remark, he sat back and said nothing. It was something else he wasn’t used to. He’d never felt a need to censor himself. So why in the hell was he doing it now?
After several moments of uncomfortable silence, Frederick finally began speaking softly with Whitney, and her delicate laughter drifted across the table and straight through Liam’s veins. It was maddening. And so, when she turned to him and spoke again, he wasn’t as kind as he could have been — to be honest, he wasn’t kind at all.
“Your home is truly beautiful,” Whitney said.
Liam looked at her with surprise. Why was she speaking to him when he’d made it so obvious that it was the last thing he wanted? Was she just trying to bait him? Break the tension? What was the deal with her?
“It’s just an old, cold, drafty house,” Liam told her without even breaking a smile. Still, he had to admire her for not giving up.
“Why don’t you tell the children some stories about when their father was young?” she said, challenge in her eyes.
Liam wanted to tell her to mind her own freaking business, except he never used the word freaking. He wished he could rise from the table and walk away. He wanted to do anything other than talk about the brother he’d lost too soon. But Ally spoke next.
“Did you play with my daddy, like I play with Brayden?” the little girl asked.
And Liam found himself answering. “Yes, we played sometimes when we were very young,” he said.
“What kind of games?” Ally pushed.
“We did fencing, basketball, and baseball sometimes, though that wasn’t my favorite.” He hoped this would be enough to appease her.
“Did you play board games?”
“Board games?” he questioned.
“You know, like Candy Land?”
“No, I never played Candy Land,” he replied, almost with a sneer. Again he had to wonder what in the world was wrong with him. To try to feel better about himself he said a little more. “We did, however often play Scrabble, which I was excellent at, and chess, which your father always seemed to win.”
And just like that, the child was beaming at him — hell, her eyes, the same color of blue as his brother’s, were shining with joy. And then the strangest thing of all happened. Liam found himself wanting to keep that light in the child’s eyes.
“I don’t like Scrabble. Aunt Whitney likes to play, but she always gets the big words.”
This statement made his father chuckle, and then Liam looked up and his eyes meshed with Whitney’s, which was a huge mistake. For just a moment he couldn’t tear his gaze away. Thank goodness his father broke the tension.
“I do hope the food suits you,” Frederick broke in.
His father seemed far more relaxed than he’d ever seen him before. The man Liam had known for having a back of steel wanted to do anything and everything to please these strangers. Strangers with no sense of style or class.
“It’s wonderful, but I hope you didn’t go to any extra trouble for us,” Whitney told Frederick as she reached out a hand and patted his.
“I am just so pleased to have you all here,” Frederick said, gripping her fingers for a short moment. Then, when they all went back to eating, the man looked at each of the people at the table individually. “Please feel free to ask me any questions you want.”
“Why didn’t you want to know us before now?” Brayden said instantly.
Liam had to wonder how long the boy had been holding that in.
“Your father and I had a falling out — a disagreement. I’m not happy to say that I was very angry for a long time.”
Frederick lowered his eyes and didn’t see his grandson’s reaction. But he continued. “Because I held on to that anger, I lost out on the best years of my son’s life, and I also didn’t get to know I had two beautiful grandchildren until now. It’s something I will regret to my dying day. But if you allow me to get to know you, it will make everything better.”
“My father never spoke once of you,” Brayden said testily. “He said his family was all gone.”
Liam had to fight not to step in and stop this.
“Do you think you can forgive an old man for mistakes he’s made in the past?” Frederick asked.
“That depends,” Brayden said. “How do you plan to make it up to us?”
Whitney threw the boy a look that guaranteed that he’d be getting talked to later. Liam felt grateful the look wasn’t directed at him.
“Ah, Brayden, you’re a treat, and very wise. I think we’ll get along just fine,” Frederick said, much to Liam’s surprise.
They finished the rest of their meal in relative silence, and Liam could see the look of relief on Whitney’s face when the ordeal came to an end.
“Thank you so much for a wonderful dinner,” she said, “but Ally is barely able to stay awake. I’ll go ahead and get her tucked into bed.” Whitney rose from her chair.
Liam stared at her, as did the staff. No one ever left the table before his father — it was simply basic etiquette. Anyone should know that. But the woman was obviously unaware that she’d done anything wrong. Good grief.
She gathered Ally into her arms and walked from the room. Liam let his eyes trail after her as she left, and he liked watching her departure — nice view from the rear! — almost as much as he’d liked her arrival.
“I’m gonna catch some z’s too. Thanks for dinner,” Brayden said, and quickly followed his aunt and sister.
“Some people simply don’t have any manners,” Liam finally said as he tossed down his napkin with some vehemence.
His father made a valiant effort to look serious and then his lips twitched before he burst into laughter.
“I’m sorry, son, but I think you need to lighten up. They’re a delight, and you wanted them here as much as I did, so you’re just going to have to deal with it.”
“I don’t think I like their effect on you,” Liam said in the very tightest of voices.
“Well, you’d better get used to it, son, because I’m hoping and praying that they don’t push to leave right away.”
Liam didn’t respond to that. What would have been the point? His father was obviously amused by the rustic behavior they’d both witnessed, so what good would it do to say anything more?
The funny thing was that as he and his father sipped on their after-dinner cognac, Liam’s gaze kept returning to the open doorway. He wanted to hunt down a certain woman and see what she planned to do next.
That was a dangerous road, and he knew he should stay as far away from it as possible. But he suspected that he might miss some of the warning signs.
Chapter Seven
Whitney tucked Ally beneath her beautiful pink satin coverlet and sat there while the child said her prayers. Bedtime was special, the part of the day she enjoyed with the kids the most. She loved the intimate time with her innocent niece, and Brayden also seemed to let his guard down just the tiniest bit, sometimes even enough to allow his aunt to kiss him on the forehead.
“Please bless Mommy and Daddy, and watch over them. And please take care of my new family, especially my grandpa. Oh, and please keep Aunt Whitney safe, too. Amen.” Ally’s words made Whitney choke up.
“That was a beautiful prayer, my sweet angel.”
“I love you, Aunt Whitney,” Ally mumbled sleepily, and she rubbed her eyes.
“I love you, too.” Whitney read Ally her favorite princess story, “Snow White,” and, after giving her niece a goodnight kiss, she went to find her nephew. He was sitting in his room, listening to music, and, as usual, he refused to acknowledge her.
“Oh, Brayden, you don’t have to be so distant,” Whitney said as she sat next to him. “This is your family. They want to know you.”
“They sure didn’t want to know us for the past ten years,” he said with a pout.
“Honey, they didn’t know you were alive until now, and look how quickly they begged to see you. Maybe it’s time for you to let go of the past and focus on the future instead.” If only she could simply erase all the hurt from the little boy’s life.
