The American Heir(5)

 

"No." There was a suspicious frown in her voice. "Is there something I should know?"

"I'm pregnant," I blurted inelegantly. "Half of England already knows. Don't blame me. Rose sold the story."

Before Sid could either squeal with delight or chastise me, the whole   story tumbled out. Everything. Clara's letter to the Dead Duke and all   its contents. Riggins walking in. The bruised roses. The bra and panties   in the box. I seemed unable to stop myself.

To Sid's credit, she didn't interrupt.

"Wow," she said when I finished. "That's all I've got. I'm thrilled for   you. I'm going to be an auntie!" She laughed, genuinely psyched and   happy sounding. "Way to go, sis!"

"Didn't you hear the part about Riggins being very angry with me? To the point of livid."

She laughed again. "What does he matter? It's all immaterial now. He   can't divorce you, even if he wants to, without losing Flashionista and   everything he's worked for. At least not until little baby heir is  born.

"I can't tell you how proud I am! You finally listened to little sis,   got knocked up, and now your future is secure." She was teasing. At   least partially.

"Yeah, that's the problem." I sighed. "That's what Riggins thinks-that I trapped him into fatherhood."

"Well, he trapped you into marriage. So there's that."

"No, the Dead Duke trapped us both."

She ignored that fact. "Riggins will come around. Especially once he   sees the adorable baby you're going to pop out. The two of you are such a   gorgeous couple-how could your baby be anything short of adorable?"

I shook my head. She was trying to cheer me up. And it was working, to a   degree. "I hope you're right. But it could be a long seven and a half   months until the baby's born."

"Not so long. You have that diamond fantasy bra to keep you company. And if worse comes to worst, you can always hock it."

"What if Riggins goes AWOL on me?" My heart broke at the thought.

"Disappear from Flash and a dukedom? It's not likely, is it?"

"My baby sis, the eternal optimist!" I could almost hear her smile. "The thing is-I don't know how I got pregnant-"

"If you don't know that yet, Hale, I can't help you. Do I have to   explain the birds and the bees to you? When you and Riggins get naked   together and he puts his-"

"Shut up!" I smiled softly.

Sid! She really did cheer me up.

"I should have been clearer. I have no idea how my birth control failed. I was so faithful … "

And then it hit me-given his mastery of manipulating lives, would the   Dead Duke leave something as important as his heir's conception to   chance? Wasn't that the main point of this entire adventure? If he'd   manipulated everything as I suspected, why wouldn't he have done   everything he could to make sure I got pregnant? Especially if he'd   known, as I was sure he had, that Riggins didn't want to father an heir.

"Hale? Are you still there?" Sid's voice brought me back to the present.

I filed my suspicions away and turned my thoughts to more pleasant topics, the real thing I was excited about in all this drama.

"Sid, hang on. I'm going to text you Clara's letter so you can read it   for yourself later." I quickly did so. "You know what this all means?" I   said in a rush of excitement. "I think the Dead Duke has been watching   us and manipulating our lives for even longer than we imagined."

My voice rose with enthusiasm as I told her my latest theory. "Sid, I   think my great-grandfather arranged your adoption. That your father is   British and somehow connected to the Dead Duke, at least peripherally."

I detailed my theory. "He didn't do anything that wasn't intentional.   I'm guessing he was helping someone out. If I'm right, someone at the   castle or in the village might know something about it. I think the Dead   Duke is leaving me breadcrumbs."

I could almost see Sid's ears perk up. I wished we'd been FaceTiming.

"Wow. That's a great theory." She paused. "You're thinking we're both   somehow connected to Witham House?" There was excitement in her voice at   the thought. She laughed again. "Maybe I'm the Dead Duke's bastard   child. And the one true heir."   





 

"It's not impossible," I said, running with the gag.

But it was preposterous. If she'd been the Dead Duke's child, I was   pretty sure Rans would have arranged for her to marry Riggins, not me. A   child trumped a great-granddaughter any day.

I looked upward, thinking and doing a little math in my head. "If that's   true, we're related by blood! And that would make you not my   half-sister." I concentrated. "My grandma?"

We both laughed because it was so ludicrous. Or was it? We spent a good   half-hour trying to figure out what our relationship would be if Rans   had sired her. Talking with my fun-loving sister, I almost forgot my   problems with Riggins.

"Should I start calling you Granny?" I said to Sid.

"Don't you dare! Let me at least turn twenty-one and go on my bar run   before you age me like that. Grannies have to act semi-respectably and   sedate, and I'm not ready for that."

I sighed. "You have to come to England, Sid. I need you here. Together we'll play sleuth and find your sibling."

"I can't," she said sadly. "Not until the quarter's over at school. End   of June, Hale. But we'll talk every night and bounce conspiracy  theories  off each other, evaluate suspects, and scheme. In the  meantime, you  have some investigative legwork to do."

"Yes," I agreed. "Where do I start?"

"Make a list of everyone who was at the estate the year I was born.   Everyone who worked there, even as a contractor or deliveryman or   newspaper boy.

"Talk to Mr. Thorne. He's been the Dead Duke's solicitor for years. It's   possible he knows something that he doesn't know he knows. Go to the   village. Chat up the longtime residents. Gain their confidence. Get them   talking about old times. Listen with enthusiasm. Espouse your love of   learning all of the village's past.

"Use your capacity as the duchess for good, sis! My good. Call on your subjects and get the scoop."

"Did anyone ever tell you you're brilliant?" I beamed with pride for her. Too bad she couldn't see it.

"I don't know about that. Someone definitely needs to inform my profs."

"Brilliant sis, font of all wisdom, I need one more piece of advice. In the meantime, how do I deal with Riggins?"

"You're asking me for advice on men?" She sounded amused and pleased.

"You have more experience than I do," I said, honestly.

"You have to ask?" Her tone was wry. "This is a no-brainer. You kill him   with kindness. Adore him. Go on as if he wants this baby as much as  you  do. Make him fall in love with the baby. Get his paternal instincts  to  kick in. You act the part of happy duchess and get the staff and  public  opinion on your side. Make it impossible for him to stay mad."

"Easier said than done." I sighed.

"Catching a fly has never been easy."

Our conversation wound down. I yawned, suddenly tired. This pregnancy   wore me out at the most inconvenient times. "It's late here. I should   go." Not that I would be able to sleep peacefully.

"Before you do. Promise you'll text a picture of you wearing that diamond bra and tell me how it feels. I can't even imagine … "



Riggins

Breakfast was laid out for us in the dining room like we were royalty.   And expecting a large crowd. Warming trays of fat English sausages, bins   of stewed tomatoes, toast racks full of toast that cooled too quickly.   The excess. The waste. As I filled a plate, I made a note to talk to  the  staff and ask that it be scaled down when it was just Haley and me.  A  bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee were all I needed. Speaking of   coffee, where the hell was it?

I poured myself a cup of the family blend of tea that Haley seemed to   prefer and made a note to ask for coffee to be put out on the sideboard   with breakfast.

The assistant chef who made breakfast came in with another warming pan of something. Eggs, I thought.

I caught her attention. "Do we have any coffee?"

"Sorry, sir." She looked properly apologetic and just a bit harried.   "I'll get you some. I didn't know you'd be returning until I got in this   morning. And then with the preparations for this afternoon … " She set   the buffet pan over the warming flame. "The duchess prefers tea."   





 

Yes, during my short absence the duchess had made herself completely at   home and taken over the estate rather thoroughly. Tea! Traitor. And  this  was the buffet that was set out for one person? I didn't give a  damn  that she was eating for two; this was still too much food.