Page 62 of Reckless Kiss

“Okay, I’ll see you later. If you need me to make another trip, let me know.”

He left Maggie in the kitchen, raced up the stairs to the grand foyer, and strode across the marble floor. When his aunt was holed away in her greenhouse, he’d skid along the floor in his socks as it was the only big space where he could mess about as a kid and not knock over a family heirloom when it was raining. Grinning at the memories of happier times when he and Jason introduced their dad to skidding around, he entered the morning room. When the door was open, it permitted anyone to enter unannounced. He hated he had to knock on a closed door before he was allowed to enter, especially when it was the living room.

“Hello, aunt,” he said as he entered the room.

Aunt Cynthia was in a pair of tartan slacks and a twin set. One strand of pearls around her neck.

“I hear you went into town today to see that man,” she said without looking at him.

Something had her attention out of the window. Archer betted it was a blade of grass.

“I went into town to pick up Maggie’s meat order.”

“And to speak with Imelda’s father,” she said.

Imelda was his mother, the butcher’s daughter, and not the woman his father was supposed to marry. His aunt had spent every day after Imelda had walked out of the family sayingI told you soin a million different ways.

“We spoke yes, he is my grandfather.”

“Your grandfather is dead, Archer.”

“I have two. You can’t change that fact. You can’t rub my mother’s family off the family tree.”

Cynthia turned to him, a saucer balanced on her palm and the cup midway to her lips. “You want to make a bet about that?”

“My mother has nothing to do with you. My father’s marriage has nothing to do with you. So why do you hate Mr Boyle, anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter. The fact is, you’re following in your father’s footsteps, marrying the first woman to turn your head and not look for good stock to continue the Turner line.”

“You’ve forced my hand with your ridiculous conditions.”

“I gave you three months. There’s plenty of time to find a better wife.”

“You don’t know anything about Erica.”

“I know all I need to.”

“If Erica is not good enough and I’m not allowed to whore my way around town, how the hell am I supposed to find a wife to meet your criteria?”

“We can arrange a match from the lower-level aristocracy.”

“No. We made a deal. I find a wife, and you give me the business. That’s it.”

“You’re no better than your father.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment because, despite your best efforts, he was a fantastic dad.”

He didn’t let her reply and carried on. “Where can I get in touch with the wedding manager?”

“Ask Bailey.”

“He doesn’t know who he is. So back to you, where can I get in touch with the wedding manager for Edward Hall. Does he live in town?”

“He lives on the mainland.”

“Then I need his number to help Erica, and I organise the celebrations.”

“What celebrations? You go to church, get married, and then we come back here for afternoon tea.”

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