Page 59 of A Bonny Pretender
“The same fickle man, indeed,” verified Evie. She stood and smoothed her apricot muslin. “Well, I must begin packing. We’ll be leaving in a few days, and I don’t want to forget anything.”
“I promised to help you,” added Brigid, jumping to her feet. She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed Frank’s cheek, then whispered in his ear, “I’ll stay if ye prefer.”
He shook his head, tempted, but smiled. “I’ll see you before dinner.”
The silence screamed around them after the ladies left the room. Sir Horace resumed his chair in front of the hearth. Frank took the chair opposite him. How did they approach this… topic? Two men who had not known of the other’s existence until the past year, now thrown together by the confession of a dying woman. Both had been her world at one time. The elder represented her dashed hopes of a bright future. The younger had been her sole reason for surviving a cruel marriage.
“I—”
“We sh—”
They both spoke at once. Frank nodded to indicate Sir Horace continue.
“Your estate is impressive.”
“Thank you. I’m happy here.”
More silence.Bloody hell!“Why did you come?” It was out. Not the most diplomatic beginning, butabeginning.
“I wanted to see what you’d done here.”
“You wanted to see if I needed your money.” He wasn’t going to mince words. This was his house, and he would take the lead. There would be no strategic back-and-forth while they stumbled through this subject. “And as you see, I don’t.”
Perhaps this visit would help after all. By touring the grounds, it would be obvious that Frank had little to gain by pursuing their relationship. Except a family. A grandfather for his future children.
“Your attitude will not make this any easier.” Sir Horace ran a hand through his silver-blond hair. “If we can be civil—”
“My attitude?” Frank tried to tap down the temper growing in his chest. He’d been the epitome of patience. Well, he’d remained calm and hid his irritation and growing anxiety. What more did the man expect of him under these unusual circumstances?
“You’re defensive. It won’t help matters.”
“You come intomyhome and comment onmyattitude?Who do you think you are?” His voice rose as control slipped away. Frank hated the tightness in his chest, the heat of anger flooding his face. He sucked in a breath and ground his teeth.
“Your father!” Sir Horace yelled back.
It was like a douse of cold water.Your father. The words slowly sank in. The older man had just admitted their kinship. He closed his eyes and drew in deep breath. His lungs filled, then he blew the air out slowly. Words formed in his brain, but his mouth refused to open.
“I’m sorry. This is difficult for both of us.” Sir Horace ran a hand over his face, the creases around his eyes and mouth deep. “Can we try again?”
Frank nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak. After convincing himself that life with Brigid was enough, that he didn’t need approval from this man, Frank realized it had been a lie. Emotion swelled in his throat again at Sir Horace’s admission and the possibilities that opened.
“As you can imagine, you were quite a surprise. I had no idea.” Sir Horace chuckled with a half-smile. “Looking at myself thirty years ago scared the bloody hell out of me.”
Frank nodded again. A slight smile curved his own lips, remembering that night in London and the jolt through his body when he’d first seen an older version of himself.
“And there were others to consider. Fenella, Evie… my wife. She’s a good woman, but not always amenable.” He cleared his throat. “Lady Franklin surprised me, though, insisting I make amends.”
Frank’s head jerked up and met his father’s eyes. “She did?”
Sir Horace nodded. “As did both my daughters.”
“I’m very fond of your daughters. They are warm, intelligent women.”
They both sat, staring at their boots.
“She was my first love, you know,” ventured Sir Horace, his voice thick. “I would have done anything for her.”
“But you didn’t have a title.”
