“And you refused?” Ryan cut in, not bothering to hide his disgust.
Arthur pressed his lips together. “Not everything is black and white, Hardaway. She came at a bad time. James’s grandmother was living with us at the time, since her health was deteriorating. So I turned them away, but I did intend to find them and to offer them help discreetly. But it turned out to be more difficult than I expected. When the private detective I hired finally tracked them down months later, she was dead and the boy had been adopted already.” Ryan didn’t think Arthur was aware of it, but his eyes softened a little. “He was a beautiful child, so I wasn’t surprised he had been adopted so quickly. I had people watching him, even when his adoptive parents moved to France. After they died, I was forced to interfere, but generally I stayed away from him.”
Ryan could no longer feel his fingers because of Jamie’s grip.
“Why?” Jamie said. “Nothing would have stopped you from taking him in after his adoptive parents died. Grandmother died when I was seven, and Mum and you weren’t at each other’s throats at that point.”
“I wanted to claim him as mine. But your mother wasn’t happy when I told her. That’s why we’ve been ‘at each other’s throats’ ever since, as you put it.”
“What?” Jamie said with a frown. “She wouldn’t.”
A wry smile touched Arthur’s lips. “She would. She did. It is rather understandable. She would have been humiliated if I claimed the boy as my own and society found out about it. She threatened to divorce me and move away from England, taking you with her.”
Ryan’s heart clenched when Jamie’s face lit up. “You didn’t want to lose me?”
Arthur gave him an unimpressed look. “Of course I didn’t. You’re my son and my legitimate heir. Tristan could never inherit the title. I couldn’t allow my heir to be moved to another country.”
Jamie’s face fell. Ryan wondered if Arthur was just insensitive or didn’t care.
“Besides, I knew the boy wouldn’t forgive me.” A faint smile appeared on Arthur’s face. “That boy is a Grayson, through and through. He’s too proud and strong-willed.” There was some irritation in Arthur’s voice—but there was reluctant admiration, too.
Ryan could almost physically feel how much it hurt Jamie. Arthur had never given Jamie any indication that he admired him: loved, yes, but admired? No. In Arthur’s opinion, Jamie was too soft-hearted and weak.
“Tristan is gay, too,” Ryan said, squeezing Jamie’s fingers.
Arthur’s expression didn’t change. “I have been aware of that for quite some time, but at least he knows how to be discreet about his personal life. And he is not my heir, so what he does in his bedroom is irrelevant, in any case.” He shot Jamie a sharp look. “I will see you at home. I expect you to have come to your senses by that time.”
Jamie’s face remained blank until the door closed after Arthur.
Then, he said, without looking at Ryan, “Can we go to your place? I want to be somewhere without people.”
“He’s full of shit,” Ryan said.
Jamie shook his head. “Not now. Please. Just take me home.”
Ryan took him home.
Chapter 17
An hour later, Ryan watched Jamie sit on the floor of his living room, sagged against the couch. Jamie’s unseeing gaze was fixed on the ceiling, his hands curled around a bottle of vodka like it was his lifeline.
“Stop staring at me,” Jamie said, without looking at him. “Drink with me. I feel even more pathetic drinking alone.”
Ryan got a bottle for himself and sat down by Jamie’s side, pressing their shoulders together. He opened the bottle but didn’t drink. “Don’t say that. You’re not pathetic.”
“I feel pretty damn pathetic,” Jamie said, his gaze still on the ceiling. Ryan watched Jamie’s Adam’s apple bob up and down as Jamie murmured, “A complete failure on all fronts.” He took a swig from his bottle, his pale eyelashes concealing his expression. “You know the worst part? I think: what’s the point in going against him? If I had something to fight for, I would have. But I don’t.” He smiled. “At least I’ll make one person happy if I marry Megan and continue the line of obscenely rich, aristocratic bitter sods.”
“Don’t say that.”
Jamie looked at him for a long time, his eyes too bright. “But it’s true,” he said quietly. “I’m a disappointment to everyone. To Dad, because I’m not like him—or like Tristan.” Jamie chuckled. “You know, it’s funny. I’ve thought a couple of times that Tristan would have made a far better Grayson than me, and now…Now I have a brother who probably hates me and a dad who secretly wishes I was the bastard one.” He looked down at his bare toes. “I can’t even do the gay thing right. I fucked up even that when I went and fell in love with the one man I could never have.”