Page 39 of A Rogue to Cherish

The gasp at the door caught their attention. Grant turned to see Wren in the doorway holding a tray with the items for their tea, stock still, her eyes wide. His father motioned for her to enter. “I did not mean to shock you, lass. I should have closed the door.” He smiled at Wren. “We will serve ourselves.”

His stomach sank at how she’d visibly paled. Once again, his actions caused someone he cared for hurt and anguish. Without looking at Grant, she hurried out.

His father motioned to the door. “Close the door, for goodness sakes. The lass looked about to faint. Not often we see such innocence.”

There was nothing to be done about Wren at the moment. Once he finished, he would seek her out and explain. How he would explain it, he wasn’t sure. He closed the door with a quiet click, then turned back to his father. “I will ensure Lucinda gets every cent back,” Grant said. “You are correct, she did gift me the funds because we were lovers. However, I am determined to put that lifestyle behind me.” Grant poured the tea, his gaze moving to the decanter on the side table, wishing he could drink something stronger. But perhaps it was time to put that behind him as well.

His father watched him pour the tea and reached for his cup. “I hope so. It is time for you to consider marriage and a family. Society’s memory is very long. You may find it difficult for a family of good standing to approve of you as a match for their daughter. Not impossible, of course, but it will not be easy for sure.”

Grant nodded and sat back in his chair. “What about us, Father? Where do we stand?”

His father stood and went to the window. “What you did was careless and without thought. I understand you were young, and that the woman was as much to blame as you. Especially since, being almost twenty years older, she should have had better control of her…passions.”

Turning to Grant, his father scanned over him with serious eyes. “I was able to rescue my professional reputation by explaining that you were young and impulsive. However, my friendship with Dupree was ruined. We have never gotten past it.”

“I am so very sorry,” Grant said, meaning it. “I can speak to him if you wish.”

“Too many years have passed. There is naught to be done at this point.” His father shrugged. “He, too, has gone to live at the country estate. I hear he is quite unwell.”

Hopefully, it meant the couple had reconciled now that they lived together again. Grant wasn’t sure what could be done if they had not. “What else can I do?” he asked, hoping his father would come up with a list. Whatever was needed, he was determined to make things better. If he was to settle down, the most important thing was to have a good relationship, once again, with his father.

“Show me that you mean what you say. I want to be proud of you, Grant. My wish is to have a son that I can boast about.”

“I will do whatever it takes to make it so,” Grant stated. “Whatever it takes.”

His father drank deeply from the teacup and met his gaze over the rim before lowering it. “I hope so.”

“Will you maintain my accounts once the ship returns?” Grant asked in a teasing tone, although he did wish his father’s attention to his accounts.

“Of course.” His father’s response formed a lump in his throat, and he had to swallow past it.

“I do love you, Father.”

“I have never doubted that, son.”

The two men finished their tea and sat in comfortable silence for a bit, both enjoying their newly made peace and the time it granted them. Enjoying the familiar warmth of the study and the memories it gave him, Grant decided to avoid speaking to Wren for the moment. He needed time to consider how to explain to her about Lucinda.

He stood to leave. Grant hesitated, unsure how to part ways with his father. Thankfully the senior man stood as well. He rounded the desk and placed a hand on Grant’s shoulder. “I am glad you came today.”

Grant could only nod, unable to trust the ability to speak at the moment. When he walked out of the house, it was as if a boulder had been lifted from his back.

*

That evening overdinner, Evan informed Grant that Miles had stopped by. Obviously, the man was on the brink of getting almost double the amount needed from a woman who was practically buying his affection for her daughter.

“It would be wrong of him to take the money if he doesn’t plan to marry her,” Grant said, the situation rolling about in his mind. “What does he plan to do?”

Evan laughed. “It seems he finds it comical that he attempted to seduce the woman, and that when he mentioned the sponsorship, the woman offered double the amount and told him that the only repayment she desired was that he court her daughter.”

Miles had never expressed any interest in courtship. If anything, he avoided any kind of social entanglement. Whatever rumors swirled about him were machinations of gossips’ imaginations, as other than his mother or sister, he’d never escorted anyone to functions and was very rarely seen in the company of a woman to whom he was unrelated.

“I cannot imagine he would say ‘yes’ to such an offer,” Grant said, lifting a piece of meat to his mouth.

Felicity, Grant’s sister, rolled her eyes. “He may do it. The lot of you are of little honor. Once she gives him the money, he will ensure the lass is the one who wishes not to continue with any kind of entanglement with him. Poor girl.”

“Did you just include me as having little honor?” Evan, her husband, pretended to be deeply insulted.

His sister didn’t attempt to soothe Evan’s feelings. “If not for being married to me, I shudder to think to what lengths you would go to so you could get the funding for your portion of the endeavor.”