Royal Bastard (Instantly Royal 1)

“This entire discussion is ridiculous,” the earl said, a red splotch of anger at the base of his throat. “This is a historic structure on the national registry that has been home to Vanes for hundreds of years.”

“And it needs an influx of cash or it’s going to fall even further into disrepair until it’s only a ghost of what it could be,” Brooke said, jumping in and hitting the older man exactly where it hurt—his legacy.

The earl’s right eye twitched, but he didn’t immediately argue. That was a good sign. Nick opened his mouth but shut it as soon as she shot him a death glare. He might be the earl’s heir, but she’d worked for the man for years. She knew the signs of giving in without admitting defeat. The eye twitch. The disappearance of the red flush at the base of his throat. The steady, assessing look that never wavered. If she could keep Nick from backing the earl into a metaphorical corner, they could walk away from the table with more than a pending heart attack from all the bacon she’d ingested.

Finally, the earl turned to his grandson. “If I say yes to this, you’ll go along on the next grouse shoot with me and meet some of our kind of people.”

Nick stiffened. “I like the people in Bowhaven.”

“That may be so, but they aren’t our kind of people,” the earl retorted.

Nick snorted. “Neither am I.”

The earl looked down his partition nose at his grandson. “Which is exactly what I’m working to rectify.”

Brooke gulped. Well then, this was not going anywhere productive. Both of the men were all but pounding their chests and declaring themselves the king of testosterone island. If she hadn’t already known they were related, this little display would have confirmed it. Nick’s shoulders went back and his chest puffed out, but before he could say anything, his attention landed on Brooke. She couldn’t say anything—that was beyond her station—but she thought it hard. Real hard. Don’t make this go tits up, Yank.

“The movie shoot for a grouse shoot?” Nick asked, each word coming out like a curse.

The earl nodded but managed not to gloat—much.

Nick’s jaw went tight enough to make it look like he could crack a walnut, but he managed to get a single word out. “Fine.”

Right then, this changed everything. Brooke’s attention flicked from one satisfied man to one who looked like he might snap the Vane silver between his fingers. He’d done it again—taken on something he didn’t want to help someone out. For all he professed to keep everyone at a distance, it was obvious that the truth of it was something different. Not that she was going to say anything about that, now or ever. She had more important things to deal with rather than the mysteries of Nick Vane that were snagging more of her attention than they should. What she needed to contend with was how Dallinger Park and Bowhaven could capitalize on this movie shoot.

“We’ll have to hire some help from the village to assist Kate with cleaning in preparation here at Dallinger Park,” she said.

“Agreed.” The earl nodded. “However, the east wing will continue to be off-limits except for myself.”

That was a problem. “The only bedrooms in the west wing, though, that are in good-enough shape to work for the movie’s two leads are the rooms Nick…” She started at her public overstep as the earl’s gaze narrowed. “Excuse me, Mr. Vane and I are assigned.”

“I guess we can’t accommodate them, then,” the earl said without an ounce of regret. “What a shame.”

Not ready to give in, Brooke grasped ahold of the first solution to pop into her head. “Actually, I can stay in the stable house.”

&nb

sp; “That only frees up one bedroom,” the earl said.

She was going through the big house’s layout in her head when Nick spoke up.

“The stable house sounds perfect for me, too,” he said. “That frees up two rooms and gets us all in alignment with the movie people’s needs. Problem solved.”

Her mouth went dry at the same moment that other parts of her went soft and wet with anticipation. Oh no. That’s not what she’d been wanting at all. That wasn’t things sorted. That was problems ahead. The how-to-keep-your-knickers-on kind of problems. And judging by the cocky wink he gave her, he knew it.

Chapter Eighteen

Hours later, when Brooke finally stepped onto the path that led through the trees surrounding Dallinger Park and to the stables, she never wanted to talk to another human again. Considering that was coming from her, that meant something. She’d spent the day in the village hiring extra help for the big house, reserving rooms at the inn, and making sure the village shops were ready for the influx of Americans. Now she had one more thing to mark off her to-do list and she could dive beneath the duvet with a good book and a fabulous glass of wine.

Still, even as tired as she was, she couldn’t help but appreciate the view as the setting sun poked through the trees. The soft-focus light highlighted the deep greens, browns, and pops of blue from the wildflowers along the path and gave it all a dreamy, anything-is-possible feeling. As she walked through the kissing gate, she turned toward the east and took a second to admire the golden hue of the wheat in the field overshadowed by the crumbling remains of a centuries-old church leading toward the village. The yellow stalks rocked from side to side in the cool breeze while the cows in the fenced paddock next to it went about their business, oblivious to the complicated world turning around them.

She’d been like that once, so ready to accept whatever came her way. It was amazing how having to deal with the bloodsucking press, cheating shit of a boyfriend, and the eyes of an entire country on her could change that. Now, she was determined to never be that passive woman again. So what if she’d turned all her energy on fixing up the big house and the village? They needed her attention. And what was left over for her? Not worth worrying about.

“On that cheery little thought,” she mumbled to herself and took the left toward the stone stables that had been converted decades ago into a residence that in reality was more for storage than anything.

Of course, that meant that it probably hadn’t been cleaned since before she’d been born. Good thing she was armed with allergy tablets, cleaning supplies, and a flask of tea—in other words, ready for battle. As soon as she turned the corner, though, and spotted the windows flung open with music blaring out of them, she stopped in her tracks. Who in the bloody hell…?

“Hello?” she yelled, going inside, repeating herself a few times as she walked through the sparkling clean sitting room.