Chapter Twenty
A Lovely Morning in Hampshire
I entered the formal dining room and again had the sensation of traveling back in time. This place was seriously old school. I was expecting a pilgrim to pop out at any moment.
Remington was at the table, reading the Wall Street Journal, already fully dressed, and Odette was to his left wearing a silk robe that looked about as expensive as a bridal gown.
“Rayne, you never came back last night,” she greeted, sipping from an antique teacup.
“Sorry about that.” I poured myself some orange juice and settled in at the other end of the table. Remington glanced at me under his bushy dark brows but said nothing. “Good morning, Remington.”
“Indeed.”
I frowned and sipped my juice.
“Did you sleep well?” Odette asked.
“Like a log. I didn’t even hear Hale leave this morning.”
“Oh, is he gone?” she asked, a look of surprise on her face. “I didn’t know he had an appointment this morning.”
“He’s meeting with his lawyer.”
Remington cleared his throat. “Odette, why don’t you go take a soak in the tub and give Meyers and I a moment to discuss some things.”
Odette appeared a little surprised by his dismissal, but she placed her cup on the saucer and rose from the table. “Of course. I’ll see you later, Rayne.”
I smiled, but then frowned as soon as she left the room. “Everything o—”
“I shouldn’t have to remind you some matters are private.”
Startled by the censure in his tone, I drew back. “All I said was Hale went to see his lawyer.”
Remington pushed the newspaper away and leveled a narrow stare on me. “One response leads to another question. Odette’s an acquaintance, not a confidante. Watch what you say.”
Where was the fun Remington from last night? “Okay. Sorry. You’re grumpy this morning.”
He sat back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. “Also…”
Great. What now?
“You should know that, in old houses like this, not only do the fixtures rattle, sound has a way of echoing. I’d appreciate less noise tonight.”
My jaw unhinged as I stared, unblinking, at the top of his head. Thank God he wasn’t looking at me anymore. “I…”
“No need for further discussion. You two are adults. But a little discretion would be nice.”
The ice in my glass rattled as I placed my juice on the table. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, utterly humiliated that they’d heard us.
Remington waved a hand and pulled his paper back, opening it to the next page. “What are your plans for the day?”
Small talk? Really? It seemed more appropriate to find a hole and bury myself in it.
“Well, right now I’m thinking about driving down to the beach and throwing myself off one of those tall cliffs.”
“Well, pick a decent one. Surviving a fall like that would ruin anyone’s day.”
I scoffed. “Thanks a lot.”
“Stop being so dramatic, Meyers. If you think I was unaware you and my son have a vigorous, physical relationship, you’re denser than I thought.”
World. Swallow. Me. Now.
“Marta,” he called and the maid appeared. “Add a splash of something stronger to Meyers’ juice. She’s having some sort of fit.”
Marta looked at me and I blinked for the first time in several seconds. “I’m fine, Marta. Where’s Elara?”
“She is napping. We had a nice long tub this morning and then a big breakfast. I made her some porridge with a little sugar and she loved it.”
I smiled because I bet she did love it. Worlds were opening up now that she was starting on solid foods. “Thank you. Let me know when she wakes and I’ll take her for a bit.”
“Of course, Nena.”
As the maid left, Remington commented, “By the time she starts talking she’ll be calling you Mother.”
I stilled. He was really on a roll today. Reaching for a Danish, because I typically ate my feelings, I stuffed down several uncomfortable emotions. “I’m not her mother.”
“Perhaps you should consider changing that.”
My hand stilled, chewed up Danish soaking up all the saliva in my mouth. “I beg your pardon?” I swallowed.
“You heard me. I know you care for the baby.”
“So? I also like puppies, but you don’t see me adopting any of them.”
“It would help my son.”
Putting the pastry down so I didn’t drop it out of shock, I brushed off my fingertips and gave my head a shake. “Hold up. A few weeks ago you were badgering me about apron strings getting too tight. Now, you’re suggesting I adopt your … granddaughter?”
“If you think Hale will ever let you go you’re mistaken, Meyers. He’s too deep to turn back now. Think of it as a business merger of sorts.”
My mouth pinched as I grit my teeth, trying so hard not to snap at him. But I couldn’t hold back. “Why do you always have to make ordinary things feel like acquisitions?”
He raised a brow and looked at me. “Is that what you two have, something ordinary? I don’t think Hale would appreciate that definition.”
“You know what I mean. Why can’t we just be in love? No pressure. Just enjoy it like everyone else in the world gets to.”
His laughter came out so jaded I knew I’d miscalculated. “Fucking is pleasurable, Meyers. Love is painful. You should be aware of the difference.”
Narrowing my eyes, I said, “I don’t like this side of you. Why are you acting like this today?”
“Will you marry my son?”
“Answer my question first.”
He held my stare for a long moment and I was certain he wouldn’t answer, but then he said, “I didn’t enjoy the show last night.”
“I said I was sorry! Believe me, the last thing I wanted was for you to hear us!”
“Another thing I doubt you and my son see eye to eye on.”
My nostrils flared as my hands folded into fists on the table. “You aren’t going to make me feel cheap or make me question Hale’s motives about things that are none of your business. It was an accident, Remington. Get over it.” There was so much venom coming from my pores, yet he didn’t seem concerned in the least.
“You owe me an answer. I answered your question, now answer mine. Do you plan to marry Hale?”
“I don’t know! Jesus, can’t things just move at a normal pace?”
“Not when there’s a woman out there trying to bleed my son dry!” he snapped. “Open your eyes, Meyers. Davenports never renegotiate. Hale knew better than to alter the terms of his original agreement and you talked him into it anyway. If you think that woman’s walking away now, when she has my son by the balls, you have no business sense at all!”
Suddenly terrified, I sat back in my seat. This was about Jasmine? “What are you talking about?”
“He’s now up to a hundred and twenty thousand dollars on top of what he’s already paid. I didn’t teach him to negotiate like that. He’s doing this to please you and now her lawyer has him in a goddamn vice. They know what the Davenports are worth. They’re not going to stop until they’re certain they’ve taken as much as they can get.”
“Hale offered her more money?” I had no idea. He hadn’t said anything in a few weeks. Today they were going to go over other options. More money? None of this made any sense. “How would me adopting Elara change anything?”
“What do you suppose they’ll go after when Hale finally stops giving in to their demands? They have him in a corner.”
My blood ran cold, my greatest fear creeping in. “Elara.”
“There’s no tidy way out of the mess he’s made, but presenting a wife or a mother for the child would certainly help matters when the court gets involved.”
I needed to talk to Hale. I wanted to rush through the house and take Elara in my arms and run somewhere safe with her. “She can’t do that.”
“She can. It’s her baby.”
A white-hot rage rushed through me as I hissed, “And yours, Remington! You have to stop her.”
He shook his head. “That baby—”
“Say her name!”
He paused, notably startled by my protective command. “Elara … is Hale’s child. If you love him and want to protect what’s his, you’ll do something. You’re the one who told me throwing money at a problem doesn’t make it go away. I suggest you give my son the same advice.”
A draft teased my ankles as I stared at my half-eaten pastry. Would marrying Hale really better his situation? Would it make Jasmine back off? It might protect Elara and she was what mattered most.
For as much as I adored the Davenports, they had a way of making me sick. Mostly Remington. Pressure built in my chest and I wanted to cry.
It was so unfair to put me in a position like this. I loved Hale, and yes, I’d probably marry him, but it was too soon. All of this was happening too fast and for the wrong reasons. And I hated Remington for even suggesting such a cold arrangement in the face of what I believed was a good and true love.
“You expect me,” I whispered, “to speed up my life and take the fall for something you’ve done.”
I shook my head, feeling robbed by a friend I trusted. He was a bully and somehow I thought I had a pass when it came to playing his victim.
“I won’t do it, Remington. I love your son, and I love his daughter, but this is my life. I’ll marry him when we’re ready and the time’s right. Not a minute before. And certainly not for you. You want everyone to clean up your mess. If you’re so damn worried, you do something.”
With that, I rose from the table and left the room.