The Price of Pleasure (Sutherland Brothers 2)

"Sit. Sit, please."

Tori dragged a chair to his bedside, settled in, and wondered what to say.

Her grandfather wasted no time. "Do you remember me? You were so young the last time you visited. How old were you? Eleven or twelve?"

"Eleven, but I remember you. You built a tree house for me. We stole food from Cook."

His hearty laugh stuttered and pitched into a deep cough. Tori could tell he fought to suppress it. "You do remember," he finally managed. "What happened out there, dear? I've lain awake so many nights wondering."

Tori took a breath and swiftly described the wreck. She highlighted her father's bravery and quick thinking and her mother's courage, and, of course, downplayed the horrors of herself and Cammy struggling to find water and food. But she didn't think she fooled the man before her, with his clear, lucid gaze.

"My boy. My poor Anne..." His voice trailed off, his eyes watering. Though she thought she'd be well past it by now, Tori's eyes did as well. "And what you must have gone through."

"In the beginning it was hard. But after a while it was very comfortable living there."

He studied her as if to determine how truthful she was being. Satisfied, he sank deeper into his pillows.

"They loved you very much," Tori said. "Before she died, Mother told me that you would come after us and wouldn't stop until you found us."

That seemed to please him very much. "She told you that?"

"Told me to count on it."

She could swear his chest puffed with pride. But then a cloud passed over his face. "I'm afraid I used up any legacy for you and your children." He looked away. "It's almost a blessing that Edward didn't come back. Letting go of this place would have broken him. He loved it so." He fell silent, alone in his thoughts until he turned to study Tori. "You know I promised Sutherland this estate?"

"I know," Tori said with a harsh laugh. "Believe me, I know that."

He frowned at her, then said, "When I die, he's going to take it. I've got to see you married and secure before then. I didn't bring you all this way to leave you in a vulnerable position."

Tori felt her heart drop. She didn't want to marry some stranger. Her emotions were raw, and she couldn't even contemplate a husband. She forced a smile and said, "We've got plenty of time to worry about that. Right now I'm wondering if the tree house still stands...."

And so for another two hours, Tori and her grandfather asked and answered questions, until she watched him resist sleep and lose. She surveyed her aged grandfather as he slept. Here was the man who'd set Grant into unwavering action.

He'd altered the course of her life, giving up everything for them, and she was, for the first time, truly humbled by his gift. She smiled, recalling a time when they had been friends planting thorny bushes to protect their fort, or coconspirators stealing whatever was warm and sweet cooling on the kitchen window ledge.

She leaned down and kissed his cheek, then left him to his dreams.

When she walked out into the hall, she realized the rest of the house was abed. She was too conflicted to sleep, so she checked on Cammy, found her softly snoring, then set off to explore the main wing of the house in the dim light. She came upon a battered vase prominently displayed on the center table in an empty salon.

Seeing it brought on a flood of memories. She remembered her mother had told her not to play in the house. Tori had disobeyed and broken what must have been a very old vase. Grandfather arrived at the scene first--Mother and Father a few moments later. Mother had looked aghast at the ruined pile of fragments. "Victoria Dearbourne! I told you not to play inside."

Grandfather had interrupted, "Anne, it was I. Getting so old I'm running into things." Mother had eyed him doubtfully, but before she could say anything, the earl grabbed Tori's hand and took her off to search for help to clean up. Tori had nearly forgotten that the next night when they'd all retired to the salon, he'd winked at her and then pushed another vase off a table to solidify his tale. "There I go again...."

But she had felt awful for breaking something of her grandfather's. To dry her tears, the earl had collected all the pieces of the original vase, and for the rest of the summer they'd spent evenings patching it back together, in a rough facsimile of the original, but whole again.

When Grant woke, he lay for some time under the frayed coverlet, staring at the peeling ceiling above him. Staying in this manor, so full of potential, and essentially his, was awkward. He should be glad that his mission was finally complete, but as was usually the case since he'd met Victoria, he felt unsettled, conflicted.

That was how it was with her in his life.

This was not how he wanted to spend his life.

After wearily rising and dressing, he made his way to the earl's apartment and found Victoria and Belmont playing chess, with Camellia reading before the fire. Grant would've been content to watch the game, perhaps spend the morning with them. He had to admit he liked the old earl. Still, some instinct of self-preservation screamed for him to leave Victoria.

"Lord Belmont, I'm going to show myself out."

"No breakfast, Sutherland?"

"I've been gone for more than a year. I need to get back and get my affairs in order. Good-bye, my lord." He bowed. "Camellia, Victoria."

"Actually," Belmont began, "I think I'd like to ask Camellia about her hometown in Kent. My best friend hailed from those parts. Tori, why don't you show our guest out?"

"Certainly. I'll just see him on his way." She smiled at Grant, too sweetly.

At the front door, Grant hesitated. "Are you going to be all right here?"

"Yes, I believe so." He knew her well enough to know she wasn't saying what was on her mind. What was she thinking? Did she regret pushing him the day before? Against his vow, he decided to broach the subject once more. "Can I convince you to marry me?"

"Can I convince you to love me?" she countered.

He leaned his forearm against the doorway. How had he ever dreamed that he could wrap this up with a speedy conclusion? "We've been through this."

"Well, I'm not satisfied with what we decided."

"So this is it. It ends here. You made your decision."

"And I stand by it."

He straightened. "When I leave now, there will be no second chances. This, whatever is between us, is over."

Her eyes slit. "Good. Because I don't suffer fools gladly. And I don't want a husband who's so stubborn he can't see what's just before him. As for second chances, there is no need. We've said all that needs to be said, I think, except good-bye."

"Fine, Victoria. You're making your bed," he grated, but he didn't turn to leave.

"Are you leaving now?"

"I'm going."

"Why won't you leave?" Before he could, he saw her expression change to one of realization. "The estate," she muttered. "For pity's sake, you'll just have to wait until he dies. Perhaps you can go count the sheep to make you feel better."

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; Grant was taken aback by her words. Though it had taken months for him to decide to make the voyage, in a heartbeat he knew he couldn't take the Court from her. "I don't," he bit out, "want it."

She was obviously shocked, but retorted, "Well, I assure you I don't either."

"I won't come claim it."

"I won't stay."

They stared at each other, neither prepared to back down. Why did everything have to be so bloody complicated with her? It was a constant test he was ill prepared for. "Just end this idiocy and marry me."

She recoiled from him, then leaned in aggressively. Her eyes glittered with fury. "Idiocy?" she hissed. She drew herself up to her full height and glared at him with will firing in her eyes, resolve powerfully thrumming through her. She'd made a final determination about him, here on this doorstep, and she would be unbending about it. He half-feared what she would say.

"I waste my time with you. I never want to see you again."

The door was towering and heavy, but it rocked on its hinges when she slammed it in his face.

Grant stared at the battered door for many moments. Damn it, had she wanted him to promise something he didn't feel? To lie to her and say he loved her?

How the bloody hell should I know if I'm in love when I've never felt it before?

He'd chosen the only path open to him, so why did the finality of their parting make him ache?

He was lost in thought as he drove away, leaving this place for good. He'd been surprised to hear himself relinquish the Court after dreaming of it for so long, but as he'd said the words, he'd known them to be true. He would never drive her out of her ancestral home, and he sure as hell couldn't live there with her.

Why did she have to be so stubborn? Wasn't it enough that he respected and cared for her? He was continually amazed at her intelligence and charmed by her humor. He could make love to her every night for the rest of his life and die a happy man. He wanted a passel of children with her--sons with courage and daughters with inquisitive green eyes. Wasn't that enough? Thinking of a future without her made his mood blacker than before.

Think of something else. Like what to do with his life now that he'd given up the object of his longstanding quest. He supposed he'd start at Peregrine again. His brother and Nicole had kept it running smoothly, even gaining accounts since her father's shipping company had bowed out of their market.