Maybe I should have been furious with him. Maybe I was too forgiving. But I'd come to love the old Dead Duke, flaws, eccentricities, and all. Maybe it was in our blood to understand each other. Or maybe he'd simply done a superior job of laying out his case for me.
I understood. He was granting Clara's last request on a grand scale.
I shook my head. I still couldn't think of him as my great-grandfather. That was surreal. He was much too larger than life to be a mere great-grandpa to me. I was torn between regret that I never got to meet him and intimidation at the thought.
Whatever he was, he was making things up to us. And making sure his bloodline, the rightful line, continued in the ducal line. It was ingenious and cunning. Almost diabolically clever.
I realized with a start just how many years he'd been planning this. Had he been watching over us like a benign grandfather all along?
Thoughts rattled and bounced around my mind, seemingly random, and yet a pattern emerged. I remembered, vaguely, my parents needing money. I was young. The details were foggy from first memory. I just remembered the hushed conversations and worried looks on my parents' faces. Would they lose the baby?
Sid!
It was when they were trying to adopt Sid. They got the money from somewhere. Where? Where?
I squinted, deep in thought.
An unexpected windfall. Some distant relative had died and left them just what they needed!
"Damn."
My heart raced. My hands shook. I held the Bible tightly and shook my head, trying to remember. I was only four when we got Sid. All the memories from then were fuzzy first memories of life.
I took a deep breath. The Dead Duke. It had to have been. If he gave Mom and Dad the money, then he knew what was going on. Was there more to it than that? Had he gone as far as setting up the adoption?
I was both giddy and sick at the thought.
Was that why he knew how to find the cure for Sid? Because he'd arranged the adoption in the first place? And if he had, why had he picked a Chinese orphanage? A half-Chinese, half-Caucasian girl?
Oh my God. What if Sid was half British? What was the connection to Witham House and the Dead Duke? There had to be a connection.
I took a deep breath and reminded myself to breathe slow and steadily. I was onto something. I was getting closer to the thing Rans wanted me to find. To Sid's cure.
Just how far into my life did the Dead Duke's tendrils entwine? If he'd set up Sid's adoption, like I suspected, had he also planned this marriage from the beginning? Had he figuratively stood over my cradle like a fairy godfather, or a feudal king, and decided to arrange for me to marry his heir?
Had he watched me grow? Kept tabs to see if I was worthy to inherit? Looked for ways to bring Riggins and me together from the start?
I probably should have felt like a puppet in the Dead Duke's game of life. Instead I was filled with a sense of awe and destiny. I'd been deemed worthy to carry on the Feldhem line. I'd been given great wealth and responsibility.
I wouldn't let my great-grandfather down. The Dead Duke could count on me to take care of our dukedom. Not even Riggins could stop me.
I smiled to myself and realized I was grinning at the Bible. I had to keep this letter safe. I slid to my feet. And what better way to protect it than hiding it in plain sight? In the library. Out of order, of course. Sorry, Dead Duke!
I put my slippers on. And then, on a whim, I texted the photo of the letter to Riggins. He deserved to know who and what he was up against. He thought the Dead Duke was determined to get his way! He hadn't seen anything yet.
Chapter 3
Riggins
I gave the woman two million dollars' worth of lingerie and she sent me a damn thank you text. And a picture of an old letter. To be technically correct, I'd left the valuable lingerie behind. So was it a gift? Or a statement about how much she'd lost by her deceit and betrayal?
I was still shaking with anger and hurt as I lay in bed and stared up at the canopy above me. Everything in this damn castle was ornate and antiquated. I longed for the sleek, modern lines of my home in Seattle. I didn't want to live in another century. I liked the twenty-first century just fine.
I wanted my old life back. The one where I expected people to let me down and women to sleep with me for my money. It was the betrayal that hurt the worst. Haley had seemed so honest.
Oh, shit, of course I knew who was behind the leak to the media. Rose. Who else? Haley would have told me about the baby, probably sooner rather than later. I didn't know Rose's exact motives, but revenge was a probable cause. She didn't understand that I wouldn't want her, even if given the opportunity. I could have chosen her, had I been inclined. Or so I'd thought at the time.
As nasty as it was, I couldn't get the niggling concern out of my mind that Haley had gotten pregnant on purpose. Yeah, I knew I was complicit. But … I shouldn't have had to wear a condom every damn time when she'd assured me she was on the pill. Was that all a ruse?
I read her text again.
Don't say it. Don't ever say that you don't want this baby. You'll regret it forever.
I swallowed hard, gulping back my guilt and thinking about my old man. Did I have any sympathy for him now? What if he hadn't wanted to be a father either? Was that an excuse worthy of not manning up to the task?
Was Haley right? Would I regret it? Anger was a nasty, blinding beast, and I was furious right now. There was more to her text.
You can say whatever else you want to me or about me. Yell and scream. Call me names. Even threaten to throw me out. But don't reject your child. Don't pass that legacy on.
And whatever else you're thinking or imagining, I didn't plan this pregnancy. I didn't trap you into anything. I'm as surprised as you are.
Surprised, was she? I was in shock.
But I'm already in love with this baby. Partly because it's yours. Yeah, you big douche. Get over yourself and I think you'll come to your senses.
I know. It's the shock. I've had longer to get used to the idea. Give it some time to sink in and you'll realize this is the best thing that ever happened to you, too. This isn't how I wanted you to find out, but it is what it is.
And as for you and me, read the letter. We're fated to be together.
Thanks for the bra and panties. Won't they be a scandalous addition to the duchess' jewels?
I smiled despite myself at her attempt at humor, picturing future duchesses parading around in their tiaras and diamond underwear. Very dignified. The other dukes may have had their extravagances, but diamond and jeweled lingerie? That was a new excess.
My amusement was short-lived. I scowled. Damn her. My heart pounded. I swallowed hard. I wanted her worse than anything. So desperately I was feverish for her. I wanted her to be guileless and telling the truth. I needed her to be the Haley I'd fallen in love with. Which raised the question-assuming Haley was telling the truth, how did our birth control fail?
I read Clara's letter for the third time.
Rans, you dead bastard, we've both been taken in by women. Two women who look eerily alike.
Haley
I called Sid, still trembling. I had to tell her about the baby before the news reached her. I'd always imagined telling her in some fun way. Curses on Rose for ruining things.
I glanced at the clock. It was the middle of the afternoon in Seattle. Sid would be out of class and hopefully someplace she could talk.
When she picked up on the second ring, I nearly collapsed with relief.
"So. Are you wearing that diamond-crusted bra Riggins is rumored to have bought before he jumped on a plane and raced to you?" she said.
At the sound of her voice, I almost cried. I missed her, obviously, but I hadn't realized just how much.
"What?" I was momentarily caught off guard by her flippancy.
"Oops! Obviously not, I guess." She laughed. "I hope I didn't spoil the surprise. If he bought it for a mistress, I'm going to kill him myself."
"Since when did his underwear-buying habits become public?" I bit my lip.
"Since he became a duke and a billionaire. It's all over the entertainment news." She laughed again. "So is it true? Are you wearing diamond underwear right now?"
"Not exactly. Though I can confirm I'm in possession of a jewel-encrusted lingerie set." I paused, hoping that the underwear was all that had been in the American press and that social media hadn't picked up the British story. Poor Riggins. It was hard to keep a surprise secret.
How much had someone been paid for the diamond underwear story? At least Rose wasn't the prime suspect this time. "Has anything else about us been in the news?"