Devil's Bargain

“Hawk’s mother died young and when my father married my mother and claimed me as his own blood, everything changed between Hawk and I. We were less brothers then than we were before either of us knew we shared blood.”

“That’s why he left?”

Declan shakes his head. “My mother was much younger than our father. And she was not as committed to our father as she should have been,” he says, looking away momentarily. “Hawk was trying to protect his father, but he went about it wrong.”

“Protect your father against what?”

“Having his fortune squandered. Having his new wife steal Hawk’s legacy out from under him,” he pauses, sips the last of his coffee. “When Hawk exposed one of her many affairs, I’m sure he thought that would be enough. That our father would divorce her, and they could go back to being their own little family mourning for his long dead mother. But Ann, well, I’ll just say she had a great deal of influence over my father. I think she could get away with murder when it came to him. And after the accusation, my father chose Ann over Hawk. He disowned his son.”

“How old was Hawk?”

“Sixteen.”

“That’s why he left.”

Declan nods. “And why he’s so filled with hate. Why he’s done what he’s done over the last decade of our lives.”

“Which is?”

“Look around you. This house was grand when I was a boy. Look at it now.”

“He’ll fix it, I’m sure. He has the means—”

“It’s not only that, Melissa. The family has lived in the house together for centuries. I’ve lived here since I was born, in the servants’ quarters to start, then as the laird’s son. My son deserves to grow up here. It’s his legacy as much as mine or Hawk’s. But my brother will be taking that away from the boy.”

My mouth falls open. “He wouldn’t…”

Declan shakes his head, stands. “I’ve said too much. I don’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not…it’s not your fault. I appreciate you telling me.”

“I’m going to take James into town. He needs to see the eye doctor. You’re welcome to join us if you like. You need a jacket if you don’t have one. And better shoes. Those won’t do here, not if you want to stay dry.”

“Hawk—”

“Hawk isn’t here, is he?” Declan points out, gaze locked on mine.

The door opens and James enters the kitchen wearing a rain coat and galoshes and holding a small umbrella. “Ready! You’ll come, Melissa? I’ll even take you to get the best chocolate cake in the whole world.”

Declan moves to stand beside James as they wait for my answer.

It only takes me a moment to reply because Declan’s right. Hawk isn’t here. And because Declan’s been more open with me in two short meetings than Hawk ever has.

“I’d love to. Just let me grab my bag.”

I don’t run into Hawk on the way back upstairs and don’t see him anywhere in the house. Declan lends me a jacket which is about five sizes too big. When I slip my arms into it, I realize it’s his from the scent of aftershave clinging to it. I find myself glancing back to be sure Hawk isn’t coming around a corner because if he was angry about me talking to Declan yesterday, he’ll flip when he sees me wearing his jacket.

We climb into Declan’s older model Range Rover and head into town.

“This bridge scares me,” I say as we cross it.

Declan smiles wide, glancing over at me. I see two dimples beneath the scruff along his sharp jaw. His dark hair is messy, and he looks like he hasn’t shaved in two days. He’s wearing a Barbour jacket that looks well broken in and all I can think is how opposite he looks to Hawk right now. How this is the side of himself that Hawk hides beneath his expensive suits.

“Bridge is fine. It’ll be here long after we’re gone. Don’t fret, Melissa.”

James tells me the story of how they figured out he needs glasses just a few weeks ago and how he’ll have them before starting school in the fall. The first day apparently falls on his fifth birthday. He also tells me that he’s going to be getting a nanny soon. One he hopes is as pretty as me.

I smile at him.

Declan rolls his eyes and gives me a wink at James’ stories. I see he’s proud of his son, though. I wonder about James’ mother but am not quite brave enough to ask about the woman I’d seen in that photograph.

It’s raining softly when we get into town and Declan rummages through the trunk for an umbrella.

“I don’t mind the rain,” I say as I help James open his little one.

“You can borrow my umbrella,” James says when Declan doesn’t find one. “I know girls don’t like getting their hair wet.”