Page 27 of Stolen For My Spanish Scandal

Jenny

ICOULDN’TSETTLE. It was a beautiful day, with the sun shining brightly in the dense blue sky above the valley, the loch reflecting back a perfect dark green. The purple heather on the hills around us was glorious and I contemplated going on a long ramble to explore. Yet I knew I wouldn’t enjoy it. Not when all I could think about was what Con had said about sending me back to London. About me no longer being part of his life.

Mrs Mackenzie served me some lunch in a cheery dining room, which had a long, dark oak table and a huge fireplace at one end. It was pretty during the day, with the sunlight streaming in, but I could imagine it at night, with candles in the big brass candelabra flickering and a fire in the fireplace, all warm and cosy.

I’d had a lovely day exploring the manor and its grounds. It was such a beautiful place. And I should be pleased about returning to London. And yet...

Something cold sat inside me.

I’d had all those questions I’d wanted to ask Con, and had faced him expecting a fight. Yet all he’d had to do was tell me he was going to send me home and my questions had gone straight out of my head.

I hadn’t expected him to just...give me up.

He can’t want you. Why would he?

I knew that was the truth, yet it hurt all the same. After that kiss I’d hoped... But, no, he didn’t. It was only my stupid optimism. After all, he’d never given me any sign that he was attracted to me in particular, and that night in the garden, when he’d turned on me so ferociously, he’d been angry and upset. I’d thought afterwards that had been the reason he’d taken me. Not because he wantedmebut because I was...what? Simply there?

Upstairs this morning, that kiss had been the same. He’d been angry and, again, I’d been there. It wasn’t me he wanted, notme.

My gut twisted and my heart ached, but I ignored them.

I couldn’t think about me. Our child was more important. And if Con was sending me home then that was a goodthing, right? I would be the one to provide all the security and stability our child needed, and all the love too. Our child would grow up safe and secure and happy, the way I’d initially expected right from the start.

But shouldn’t a child know its father?

Glumly, I moved a tomato around on my plate. I wanted to tell myself that of course a child didn’t absolutely need to know its father. I’d never known mine and I was fine, wasn’t I?

Then again, perhaps if my father hadn’t left my mother I’d have had a more stable upbringing. Perhaps if he’d stayed for my birth he might have wanted me. I might have gone to live with him, and things might have been different...

Except that hadn’t happened, and things weren’t different.

And by refusing marriage to Con you’re denying your child the chance to know him and for him to know his child.

My fork dropped onto my plate with a clatter and I stared down at it, unseeing.

I couldn’t deny him that. It wasn’t right. Yes, it had been his decision to take himself out of my life and out of our child’s, but there had to be a reason for it.

He hid it from most everyone, but he had a deep, caring nature that he’d never hidden from me. Once, back when I was eleven, I’d found a tiny nest of sparrow chicks that had fallen out of a tree in the mansion’s garden. The mother bird had been nowhere to be found, so I’d picked the nest up and taken it straight to Con.

I’d known he would help and he had. He’d taken that nest to his study, kept the heat cranked up so the chicks would be warm, and then we’d both sat down at his computer to look up what to feed them. The nest had stayed in his study for a couple of days, and we’d looked after those chicks together until he’d managed to find a local bird sanctuary. Then he’d transported them there himself.

He was a protector, a caregiver. And not just with birds. He’d always made sure that I had a blanket to snuggle under, and he’d made sure that my favourite drinks and snacks were always stocked in the mansion’s kitchen. When I’d got older, we’d discussed his plans for Silver Inc, and how he’d wanted to improve conditions for employees. It hadn’t seemed to be a simple thing, though I hadn’t been sure why.

What I was sure of now, though, was that he’d be a wonderful father, and I couldn’t deny him the opportunity to have that connection. Some part of me sensed that he even needed it. Which meant I couldn’t allow my own conflicted feelings about him get in the way.

Yes, I wanted love. But my child was more important than my feelings. Con could give me everything I’d always hoped for except love, and while he might not love me, he would love our child. I was sure of it.

Then there was the issue of his donations. The shelter always needed money, and plenty of other charities did too. I could help a lot of people if I married him.

I picked up my fork and shoved the tomato around a bit more. I would be like my mother, of course, marrying a man for his money, and she’d be very pleased to know I was even contemplating it. She’d been encouraging me to get closer to Con for years. But, again, refusing him just because I didn’t want to be like her was all about me. It wasn’t thinking of our child.

I bit my lip, then speared the tomato with my fork and popped it into my mouth, chewing slowly as the determination that had driven me to Madrid to catch one last glimpse of him hardened inside me once again.

Marriage. It had to be marriage. But I wasn’t going to let him have it all his own way. I had to demand a few things of my own, set some boundaries. Otherwise he’d think he could tell me what to do. I wasn’t the little girl who’d curled up in his chair and had only wanted to please him. Who’d rushed to get him drinks or snacks, or talked to him when he was sad. The little girl who’d once thought he could walk on water.

No, I wasn’t that little girl any longer. He’d seen to that.

If I had to give up what I wanted, then he’d have to give up what he wanted too.

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