Page 60 of A Bonny Pretender
“It seems to be the curse of my existence when it comes to women,” he agreed with a laugh. “If I’d known she was pregnant, I’d have abducted her and married her in Scotland.”
“That’s why she never told you.” Frank saw the shift in the older man’s expression. The memories that offered both pleasure and pain. “She wanted to protect us both.”
“I always hoped she was happy with her choice. I didn’t like the man, and I hated him after their marriage. But I never wanted her to suffer. It breaks my heart to think of what she endured.” He looked up at his son. “Whatyouendured.”
“I came out stronger for it. And if it helps, her last years were happy and peaceful.” Frank let out another long breath, feeling the tension in his shoulders lessen. “Are you here to offer an olive branch and set terms for our relationship?”
“I came for answers. In my eyes, our relationship is established. You’re my son. After I accepted that, the circumstances were irrelevant.” He shook his head. “Why didn’t she tell us?”
Frank grunted. “Evie says she was thinking of us. We would have never formed a bond between us if she had been in the center. I would have resented another man in her life. You would have resented another man raising your son.”
“But in the end, she knew we needed each other.”
Frank drew in a breath. He locked his gaze with his father. “Do we?”
Sir Horace leaned his elbows on his knees and nodded. “I indulge my wife, too much, I fear. I love her, but your mother was the love of my life.” His voice cracked. “You are the product of that love. How can I not embrace your existence? How can I not appreciate this unexpected gift?”
They both cleared their throats in the awkward silence. Frank blinked as an unfamiliar emotion overwhelmed him. Happiness? Relief? It didn’t matter. The resentment was fading; the loneliness that had dogged him his entire life dissipated like a fast-moving storm over the moors.
Sir Horace stood. “If it would be convenient, I’d like to stay a few weeks. See your estate, get to know each other. We may have more in common than we know.”
Frank stood, a peculiar lightness in his heart. “I’d like that. We can keep this quiet and stay out of theon dits.”
“I don’t give a damn what thebeau mondesays. I have a son.” Sir Horace slapped Frank on the back, then gripped his shoulder and yelled, “I have a son!”
The door flew open, and Evie and Brigid rushed in. Evie hugged her father. “And I have a brother!”
Frank put his arm around Brigid’s waist and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.
“And ye have a father,” she said, leaning her head against his arm.
He nodded. A year ago, who would have thought he would be standing in his home with a loving wife, a doting sister, and his father? His real father.
Life was a strange mix of twists and turns. With Brigid by his side, the future suddenly looked bright. All the scenes he’d imagined as a boy, now possible. For the first time in his life, Frank felt blessed and utterly happy.
“Thank you,” he whispered in Brigid’s ear.
“For what, love?” she asked.
“For climbing trees, and shooting men, and saving boys, and loving me.”
