“I hope no one heard. I tried, Ryder. I really tried.”
I grabbed her wrist, pulling her arm over my belly. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I don’t think I exactly held back either.”
“But your grandfather,” she said. “It’s so disrespectful.”
“Don’t sweat it.” I threaded my fingers through hers. “He’s on the other side of the house. He definitely won’t have heard.”
“You think?”
“Absolutely.” I glanced at her tight nipples, flat belly and glossy hair that spanned across my bed in a fan of black. “You wanna test my theory and go again?”
If I was going to fake-marry someone, I could have done a lot worse. Scarlett King was clever, beautiful and fucking fantastic in bed.
Fifteen
Ryder
Even nice days in October began with bleak, cold mornings. That I’d been pulled out of bed and away from Scarlett’s warm body to go hunting with Frederick, of all people, only added to the misery.
Still, I knew I was going to have to have a conversation with Frederick on my own at some point. I just had hoped it wouldn’t be while we both were carrying guns.
Merriman, the gamekeeper, pulled up and put the hand break of the Land Rover on. “Let’s go from here,” he said.
I opened the door and headed to the trunk, Bracknell, Merriman’s golden retriever, following me.
I hated shooting. Some people enjoyed it because of the land, the fresh air or being with their dogs. But for Frederick I knew it was the sense of power he had from killing things. He made me sick. For Merriman, it was all about estate management. That was the only way I could justify it. I knew Frederick went on organized hunts, where they were shooting pheasant especially bred to be shot. That was just fucked up as far as I was concerned—creating something to kill it.
“I doubt you do much shooting in New York,” Frederick said. “You a little worried about being rusty?” he asked, handing me a shotgun.
I’d always been a better shot, even though Frederick did it so often. “Not that worried, no. No doubt Merriman will be better than both of us as usual.”
Merriman pretended he couldn’t hear us bickering as he always did. Everyone at Woolton had gotten used to our fighting. Even as children, there’d never been a time when we were friends, despite us being just a year apart in age. Frederick had always been so resentful. So keen to find fault in everything and everyone. Being near him had been exhausting, even as a kid.
Merriman led the way with Bracknell and the cartridges, luckily, and Frederick and I followed over the uneven, dew-covered ground.
“You should have worn walking shoes,” I said as Frederick stumbled. Why had he worn wellies? And why the fuck was he wearing tweed? Merriman and I were happy in our wax jackets and jeans. This wasn’t a formal day shooting with all the pomp and ceremony. It was two cousins out with the gamekeeper.
“Rubbish. Just because you live in America doesn’t mean I have to let my standards slip.”
I sighed but didn’t reply. There was no point. He was always so keen to look like he fit in, rather than just relaxing and letting it happen.
I glanced up at the sun, pushing through the mist of the morning. I hoped Scarlett would be okay at the spa. I knew Darcy would look after her, but Victoria? There was no telling how she’d treat my fiancée. I was even worried that Aurora would be less than friendly when I wasn’t around. She was a sweet girl, but I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t married by now because she’d thought I’d eventually come to my senses. She’d been close to my mother, sister and grandfather as a child, but why she still spent so much time here as an adult? It didn’t make sense to me.
Merriman stopped and took off his bag, setting it on the ground. Without glancing behind him, he tossed a small bottle of water toward us. It was unexpected and I didn’t quite catch it, and it bounced at my feet.
Frederick chortled as he caught the second one. “You still think you’re going to beat me?”
“What can I say? If it happens, it’s because my beautiful fiancée kept me awake and, rest assured, it will not bother me in the least.” I grinned, happy to fuck with Frederick and tell the truth at the same time.
“Yeah, right. What an excuse. As if you two are actually sleeping together,” he said. Interesting. He clearly suspected my relationship with Scarlett.
I chuckled, trying not to show any weakness. “You think we’re saving it until our wedding night?”
“I doubt she’ll go through with it. If she’s got any sense, she’ll take the money you’ve obviously paid her and walk away. Unless, of course, you’re paying extra for the sex.”
If I hadn’t been holding a shotgun, I was pretty sure I’d have taken a swing at him. Scarlett wasn’t marrying me for money—not really. She was only trying to save the company she’d put everything into. Just like me. And she wasn’t sleeping with me for money, that was for sure.
“Or maybe she just wants to be a duchess.”
“She didn’t know about the title when I proposed.” That was true too. I hadn’t deliberately left that part out but I’d not really considered the fact that while she was married to me, she’d be my duchess.
“Yes, all very convenient. She’s the perfect woman, who suddenly has you popping the question, and just in the nick of time, too.”
“What exactly are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything. I think I’m saying it quite openly. There’s no way your romance, or whatever you want to call it, with that woman is real. You just want to inherit.”
“You’re a dick, Frederick. If what you were saying is true, why on earth wouldn’t I have married before now? Why didn’t I simply marry when Grandfather had his stroke?” Lying didn’t sit easily, but what choice did I have? “Or at any time in the last decade?”
He didn’t know anything had changed. There was no way he could know how the Westbury Group was linked with the estate.
“I’m not quite sure yet.” He shrugged. Confidence and swagger weren’t attributes that fitted him and he looked stiff instead of relaxed. “But these things tend to have a habit of revealing themselves as I’m sure that woman will.”
That was a threat if ever I heard one, but I was too incensed to worry about what plans he had to try to reveal the true nature of our relationship.
“That woman? My fiancée’s name is Scarlett. You might not like it, Frederick, but Scarlett is going to be my wife.”
“Your whole relationship is a fake, and we both know it.”
“Because it’s not convenient to you? You should have been a fly on the wall in our bedroom last night—no one was faking anything. You might have a sexless marriage, but I certainly won’t. Hell, take one look at Scarlett.” I scoffed. “As if I can keep my hands off her.” I didn’t have to lie to him. Everything I was saying was true.