Warming to his theme, Harry said, ‘A gift shop with plant sales and a café will create jobs and bring in visitors to help the local economy. Everyone wins. Dom, Sally, Nell and Tris all work really hard and they’re doing a brilliant job. We all ought to appreciate that.’
More silence, and this time he could see that his brother and sister were squirming just as much as their partners.
He’d gone too far.
But he really wasn’t going to apologise. Not this time. He hadn’t said anything offensive. And he was so tired of treading on eggshells around his irascible father. Viscount Moran and his moods had dominated the family ever since Harry could remember, and it was way past time that changed. Harry was sick of having to kowtow to an entitled bully. ‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and get some more water.’ He picked up the jug from the centre of the table and headed for the kitchen.
Ellen followed him. ‘Are you all right, Harry?’
‘Yeah.’ He sighed. ‘Sorry, Nell. I didn’t intend to stir things up. But I’m so sick of it. This is why I hardly ever come back to the abbey. I’m tired of Ma and Pa sniping at each other all the time. And I’m really tired of them treating you and Dom as if you’re useless, when actually you’re brilliant and without the pair of you Beauchamp Abbey would’ve collapsed under a pile of debt years and years ago.’ He grimaced.
‘In my professional life, I stand up to bullies. Especially if I see one of the older men trying to put the younger women down, or leering at them and trying to do the equivalent of the casting couch. It’s absolutely not OK, and I’m not going to stand aside and watch it happen.’ He sighed. ‘I just wish I knew how to deal with Pa.’
‘Just let it go,’ Ellen advised. ‘Pa can threaten whatever he likes, but he can’t actually carry any of it out. Grandpa Beckett left the majority share in the biscuit business to me, so Pa can’t sack me. The house is entailed, so Dom’s the only one who can inherit it; and it’d take an Act of Parliament for Pa to make anyone other than Dom the next Viscount—which we all know isn’t going to happen, because even people who’ve had a really good case for disinheriting their kids haven’t been able to stop them inheriting the title and estate. Pa has absolutely no grounds for disinheriting Dom. He’d be laughed at if he tried.’
‘I guess,’ Harry said.
She hugged him. ‘And ignore those stupid comments about your career. We’re so proud of you.’
‘Yes. Your quartet’s booked up for two years in advance, which is pretty amazing,’ Dominic said, walking into the kitchen, ‘and what about the awards you’ve won? Plus whenever I play any of your recordings it takes me into another world. You’re brilliant at what you do. Don’t listen to Pa.’
‘I was all ready to yell at him and tell him to stop being such a bully,’ Harry said, ‘but I stopped myself because I know I won’t be the one who has to put up with the tantrums, and it isn’t fair to make things worse for you. But I really, really hate the way he treats you all.’
‘It is what it is,’ Dominic said with a shrug. ‘I don’t think you’re old enough to remember, but Grandpa Moran was even worse than Pa.’
‘So why doesn’t Pa think about how Grandpa Moran made him feel, and ask himself if that’s how he wants his own children to think about him?’ Harry asked.
‘Because I don’t think he can. He’s too set in his ways,’ Ellen said gently. ‘But we love you, Harry. And we’re hugely proud of you.’
‘Seconded,’ Dominic said, clapping him on the shoulder.
‘Though,’ Ellen added, ‘he might have a point about letting someone back into your life. I know you were in pieces when Rochelle... Well.’ She coughed. ‘But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t work with anyone else.’
Oh, but it would. Harry had faced a stark choice: his marriage or his career. And he’d chosen the thing built on solid foundations. The thing where he could be himself and not think about the might-have-beens: the little boy or girl who would’ve been five years old now.
‘Thank you for your support,’ he said, ‘but I don’t need anyone. I’m fine.’
‘We worry about you,’ Ellen said.
‘I’m fine. Really,’ he said. ‘Just sick of the parents.’ He grimaced. ‘They loathe each other, but they’ll never get divorced. They always bang on about divorce not being the done thing—’ and they’d both gone on about it most when he could’ve done with a bit of support, in the middle of his own divorce ‘—but I think we all know Ma married Pa for his title, and Pa married Ma for Grandpa Beckett’s money. Divorce means she’d lose the title and he’d lose the money. So they stay together and just make each other—and everyone around them—utterly miserable.’
‘Which is why we don’t live here with them.’ Ellen ruffled his hair. ‘Living in the village means there’s just enough distance between us to protect the kids. But not all marriages are like theirs, Harry. Or like yours was, sweetheart. Look at me and Dom. I’m happy with Tris.’
‘And I’m happy with Sal,’ Dominic said. ‘I know it was hard, what happened with Rochelle, but surely it’s worth trying again?’
Harry sighed. The wreckage had proved that he should never have married Rochelle in the first place. Marriage wasn’t for him. Not then and not now. ‘The women who want to date me nowadays don’t see the real me—they see either Harry the musician in the public eye, or Harry the younger son of Viscount Moran.’
‘Then you’re meeting the wrong women,’ Ellen said. ‘Why don’t you let me—?’
‘Thanks for the offer, but no,’ Harry cut in gently. The last thing he wanted was for his sister to start match-making, even though he respected her judgement. He didn’t want to fall in love again, only for it to go wrong. He couldn’t face any more ultimatums with a woman saying he had to choose between her and his music. Clearly it was greedy to want love and his job. But at least his job never let him down, unlike love.
Ellen took a key from her pocket. ‘Here. Escape back to ours, and get some fresh air. I’ll tell the parents you’ve got a migraine.’
‘You,’ Harry said, ‘are the best sister ever.’
She grinned. ‘I hope so. Do you really have to dash off tomorrow?’
Harry nodded. ‘Sorry, I have rehearsals.’