A couple of beats of silence passed. “You know how I feel about that,” she said.
“I don’t want to fight over grandfather’s estate,” I replied. Darcy hated the idea that there would be a battle over our grandfather’s assets, because it seemed to somehow taint the importance of our love for the man. However, knowing how he wanted my sister to inherit, I knew he would welcome a solution. “But what’s our alternative?”
“I really want you to consider an arrangement with Aurora—she cares about our family, and she’d make an excellent wife.”
“I don’t want to get married.” Certainly not to someone who only wanted me for the title I’d inherit. And the alternative—that she’d want a real husband—was worse. Aurora and I had known each other as kids, first crushes, but she didn’t know me now, not as an adult.
“I’m sure most men feel like that. And it’s not like you have to . . . you know . . . live like husband and wife.”
“That’s not the point, Darce.” Fucking Aurora would be the least of my problems. She’d always been attractive. I’d have slept with her before now if I hadn’t thought she’d read all kinds of meaning into us having sex. But I knew myself well enough to know I could never be faithful to one woman. There were too many beautiful girls in the world. I preferred the ones I didn’t know. It was less complicated.
“It’s not like we’re talking about the rest of your life.” I really wanted to make this better for my sister, but she’d see that I could buy her another property, really similar to Woolton Hall. I knew it wouldn’t be exactly the same, there wouldn’t be that emotional investment she had in Woolton, but her life wouldn’t change significantly. The thing was she was married to the estate—it had been her whole life since we were kids. After university, when Darcy said she was going to work full time on the estate, I urged her to find her own path in the world. But working at Woolton was the only thing she wanted to do. She loved the place.
“I have thought about it. A lot.” We’d been talking about this for years. My grandfather’s stroke had only escalated things. “You know Aurora isn’t the right woman for me.”
“She’s as good as anyone. She’d let you do your own thing.”
I wasn’t the kind of guy who cheated on his wife. Marriage was a commitment, a promise to be faithful, and I didn’t break my promises so I didn’t make any that I couldn’t keep—I wasn’t about to become my parents. I wanted to look back at my life and be proud of the man my grandfather had brought up. I wanted to do my grandfather’s sacrifices justice.
“Let’s talk when you get here. Whether we like it or not, Grandfather is eighty-two. You’re running out of time to think about this. You need to act quickly or it will be too late.”
She thought she could convince me. As much as I hated to disappoint my sister, it wasn’t going to happen.
Fucking was my favorite sport, and I’d gone pro a long time ago. I wasn’t about to leave the field a moment before the whistle was blown. And I was determined the game would last as long as I had blood in my veins. Besides, who was I to deprive the women of Manhattan?
I tried not to shudder as I opened the door to my grandfather’s room. I hated that very particular smell you got in hospitals. I wasn’t sure if they all used the same cleaning products or whether death and disease carried their own fragrance.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Grandfather bellowed at me from his bed as I stepped inside.
I chuckled. “Now that’s not a very nice welcome. I hope you’re being slightly more charming to the nurses.” I winked at a girl in her early twenties who was checking blood pressure readings.
“Everyone is making such a bloody-awful fuss, Ryder. I’ve been falling over for eighty-two years. I’m not sure why everyone’s acting like I’m on my death bed.”
I shook my head. “You broke your hip, Grandfather. Did you expect no one to care?”
“They’re talking about surgery,” Darcy said from behind me.
I spun around. “Surgery? What for?”
My sister looked pale as I pulled her into a hug.
“The hip. They’re saying he needs a partial replacement,” she mumbled against my shirt.
I squeezed and released her. “He’s going to be fine. I’ll speak to the doctors.”
“I already did. They said surgery almost always follows a fall like this.”
“Stop fussing,” Grandfather called from his bed.
I laughed. If sheer force of will could keep someone alive, Grandfather would live forever.
“You look good.” I patted my grandfather on the shoulder.
He shrugged off my hand. “How’s business?” he asked, always ready to live vicariously through me and my life in New York. His whole life had been managing the family’s holdings, which included Woolton Hall, a large, stately home outside London, the surrounding land and nearby village, which was rented out to villagers, and a townhouse in London. I never asked him if he resented the responsibility that came with the title, or if he might have done something else, had he been given a choice over his future. But he was a man of honor and commitment, a man to be admired. The person I aspired to be.
“It’s good,” I replied. “I’m trying to buy a small luxury fragrance business at the moment.”
“Fragrance? Doesn’t really seem like your thing.”
“My thing is anything that makes money.” I had an eye for spotting growing businesses and buying them just before their loans were called in or their lack of cash flow paralyzed them. “It’s a solid business that needs investment to take a step up.”
“And you’re going to give them what they need?” he asked, pointing his finger at me.
I shrugged. “I’m a generous guy. You know that.”
Darcy rolled her eyes. “No doubt there’ll be more in it for you than them.”
I nodded. “But there’ll still be something in it for them. And that’s the point. I don’t screw them. I’m just shrewd.” I was excited about the company I was targeting at the moment. The business hadn’t been up and running very long and yet they’d done incredibly well. Retail wasn’t my sweet spot but this business was worth stretching myself for.
“How are things back at the house?” I asked as I pulled a chair up to my grandfather’s bed.
“The stables need a new roof,” Darcy replied. “And frankly so does most of the west wing.”
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” my grandfather replied.
My sister had taken over the majority of the running of the estate in the last couple of years. She’d worked side by side with my grandfather since graduating and he’d carefully passed down all that he knew.
“Grandfather, Darcy always knows exactly what she’s talking about.”
He growled and looked out of the large windows onto the Thames. His lack of argument was as much of an admission as we were going to get.