“Are you my grandpa?” she finally asked him in awe.
The man’s simple “Yes” also sounded a bit awed.
“I love you,” she said, 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 he was a child.
He cleared his throat, for a strange scratchiness 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 for any of them in this palace of a home. Liam and his brother had never been encouraged to show open affection. Too unseemly.
“Well, then, it’s very nice to meet you, Miss Ally,” Frederick finally said. He brought his hand up and rubbed her head for a moment before setting her 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, then 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 being created by the splashing of liquid as she dropped soup only to begin the routine all over again.
“Yes, I am,” Liam 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, Liam was only a couple 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.
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 at the table fell silent as the soup was taken away and the next course brought out. Frederick finally began speaking softly with Whitney, and her delicate laughter drifted across the table and along Liam’s veins. For this reason, 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.
“It’s just a 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 of 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 wanted to rise from the table and walk away. He wanted to do anything other than talk about the brother he’d lost too soon. But instead, when Ally spoke, he found himself answering.
“Did you play with my Daddy, like I play with Brayden?” Ally asked.
“Yes, we played sometimes when we were very young,” Liam said. 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 do hope the food suits you,” Frederick broke in.
His father seemed far more uncomfortable than he’d ever seen him. 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, while they all went back to eating, the man looked at each of the people at the table individually. “Please feel free to ask any questions you want of me.”
“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. 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.
“Well, can you forgive an old man for mistakes he’s made in the past?” Frederick asked.
“That depends,” Brayden said. “What do you plan to do for us now?”
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 it 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 common manners. 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 without anyone saying anything further. 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, and don’t even think about protocol,” 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 with all the power he could manage in his voice.
“Well, you’d better get used to it, because I’m hoping and praying that they don’t want to leave right away.”
Liam said nothing further. What would be the point? His father was obviously amused by the rude 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 on doing next.
Chapter Seven
Whitney tucked Ally beneath her beautiful pink satin coverlet and sat there while the child said her prayers. Bedtime was special, and 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 b
rought a tear to Whitney’s eye.
“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 Snow White princess story, and, after giving her a goodnight kiss, went to find Brayden. He was sitting in his room, listening to music, and 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 nine 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 her nephew’s life.
“What does it matter to you?” he asked with suspicion. And then fear entered his eyes. “Are you just trying to get rid of us?”
“You know I wouldn’t ever do that. I love you so much,” she insisted. She grabbed his hand and was surprised when he didn’t brush it off. “I just want for you to not be so angry, Brayden.”
“Whatever. You’re not my mom, not even kind of close to her, so why don’t you quit trying to act like it?”
That broke her heart in half, and she had to fight not to cry.
“I know I’m not your mom, and I would never want to replace her. But I do love you and your sister more than anyone else on this planet, and not a day goes by that I don’t miss your parents as much as you do.”
“Well, I think you just want these strangers here to take us so you can go away like my mom did.”
“Brayden, I can’t even imagine my life without you. I have loved you from the moment I first held you in my arms, and that was when you were only a few minutes old. I love you even more as I watch you turning into a young man. I will never leave you, not ever. I know you’re having a hard time trusting people right now, and you’ve been through more than any child should ever have to deal with. But in time you’ll know that you can trust me to never leave you. Give things time. As an old saying tells us, time will heal your wounds, I promise.” Whitney leaned in and gave him a kiss on the forehead.
“I want to go to sleep,” Brayden said with a suspiciously tight voice.
She could tell he was done listening, so she left his room with her heart heavy. Was she doing more harm than good with her sister’s children? She honestly didn’t know, but she wouldn’t give up on either of them, even if she had to tell Brayden every single day for the rest of her life how much she loved him.
They would all stop hurting so much — eventually. Today wasn’t going to be that day.
Chapter Eight
Whitney didn’t see the extra shine on the newly polished marble floors, and before she knew it, her feet slipped out from beneath her, and a crack sounded as she landed hard.
Tears sprang to her eyes, but with nearly inhuman restraint, she managed to push them back. She scooted backward against the wall and decided to stay put.
“Are you okay?”
Her head whipped up. Of course. It was the man who’d been making her feel unwelcome almost from the moment she’d entered the family home. Okay, home wasn’t quite the word, maybe estate, or whatever. Rich bastards.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Go ahead and carry on.” She’d tried but failed to hide the pain laced in her voice.
“Most people learn how to walk by the time they’re one,” Liam said, but he reached out a hand.
She gasped. “You insult me and then offer to help me to my feet?”
“A gentleman would never fail to assist a lady when he found her in difficult circumstances.”
The sarcasm was oh too clear. He didn’t think of her as a lady at all. Screw him.
“Well, since we both know I’m not a typical woman, and certainly not in your class — whatever that is — you’re free to be on your way.” She could do sarcasm too, though she was better at veiling it.
But he just stood there with that same look of superiority, and she struggled to her feet. It seemed to take forever, and Liam, realizing she wasn’t going to accept his help, just stood there, damn his hide, looking down his nose at her.
“My father would like to speak to you if you can follow me,” he said when the silence stretched on for what seemed an eternity.
“I would love to see him,” she replied.
“Right this way.”
She made sure to stay by his side. None of this two-steps-behind-richer-than-sin-monarchs bullshit for her. She’d prefer to walk ahead, actually, but she had no idea where they were going until they approached the large ornate doors of what probably counted as the den —though who knew what these snooty people called it? No, it was probably the sitting room, because weren’t dens smaller? And this room wasn’t small. But it was still Whitney’s favorite room of the house, warm and cozy and with furniture that was actually comfortable. You couldn’t say that for most of the rest of the sad mansion.
When she and Liam stepped inside, Whitney stopped in her tracks, because a large group of people were sitting and chatting, dressed to the nines. For just a moment she felt the smallest trace of insecurity as she stood there in her sweater and jeans. But that was until she reminded herself that these people now looking at her in a most disapproving way would be nothing but memories in a very short time. They could all lead their incredibly boring, proper lives, and she could enjoy her freedom.
“Liam, where have you been hiding?” A woman looking to be in her mid-twenties rose quickly from her chair and rushed over. She gave Liam a chaste kiss and then returned to her seat, where she seemed to be holding court for the room full of people.
“Alexandra, I’m sorry,” he said coolly. “I didn’t realize we had guests.”
“How could you forget, darling? We’re supposed to be discussing the spring fundraiser.”
His gaze flicked upward, but the move was almost imperceptible. “You know I don’t get involved with that sort of thing,” he said.
“I thought things were different.” The woman’s whine grated on Whitney’s nerves. But this blue blood was ignoring her presence completely, so maybe she could slip back out of the room unnoticed.
No such luck. Liam turned back toward Whitney, and much to her distress, she felt the smallest leap in her pulse as his sharp blue eyes focused on her.
“This is Whitney Steele. She’s the aunt of my niece and nephew — I spoke of them earlier in the week. Whitney, this is Alexandra Masterson.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alexandra,” Whitney said, sticking out her hand.
The woman ignored the gesture and turned back toward Liam. “Let’s go talk privately.”
Before Whitney knew what was happening, Liam and Alexandra disappeared, and the chatting began again. She wasn’t sure if she should retreat or sit. Where was Frederick? Wasn’t he supposed to be meeting her?
Before she could decide what to do, Liam returned and, without even asking for her permission, he took her elbow and led her to a chair. Immediately, a maid offered her tea or coffee. Whitney chose tea.
The people were all so proper —hell, tight-assed was the way to describe it — and she found herself sitting there uncomfortably. Alexandra seemed to have a constant pout on her face while she sat quietly back, every once in a while shooting Whitney a questioning look. Who would want to associate with these people? To tell the truth, who would ever cared to be around these idiots?
“Here are your finger sandwiches, sir,” Mr. Dixon, the butler, said, while setting down a beautiful dish on the antique table. “I hope you enjoy them, Ms. Steele.”
“Thank you, Mr. Dixon. They look very … appetizing,” Whitney said, eyeing them with doubt.
Alexandra took the opportunity and pounced. “Have you not had a proper tea before?”
The woman could only be described as catty
. But even the worst of cats were better than her. The woman, that detestable woman, delicately picked up a tiny sandwich and didn’t even eat the whole thing. One tiny bite, damn her. Alexandra then set it down and picked up her wretched porcelain cup of tea, her face sweet and angelic.
“No, not really. I think the closest I’ve come is happy hour with barbecue wings and two-dollar drafts,” Whitney said with a smile. “If you don’t need at least five wet napkins, then you haven’t had very good wings.”
While Whitney delighted in the expression on Alexandra’s face, she was afraid to see Liam’s expression. But when she heard a chuckle escape him, she turned toward him in shock. He quickly covered up the short-lived amusement — he’d have probably called it mirth, the pompous asshole — by coughing, and then once again making his face a blank.
“Barbecue wings? Interesting. I’ll have to see whether the cook might prepare some for you.”
At this point, a man who was obviously a member of the Felton staff came up to her.
“Ms. Steele, a package has arrived for you,” he said.
She rose slowly. “Are you sure it’s for me? No one that I know is aware I’m here.”
“Your name is on the box,” the man said. “It was left at the front door.”
“Um, thank you,” Whitney said before standing and turning toward Liam. “Please tell your father I will look for him in a little while.”
With that, she turned and followed the man with the package from the room. She was more grateful to him than anyone she’d ever met before.
“Would you like me to take this to your room?” he asked.
“No, I’m sure I can lift it,” she told him, and wondered what it could be. It wasn’t exactly heavy, but it wasn’t light, either.
When she got to the privacy of her room, she opened the box and broke out in a smile. Several beautifully wrapped gifts sat inside the cardboard, and it took everything in her power not to immediately tear into the wrapping.
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