“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 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, 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.