Castles (20 page)

Alesandra's voice lacked conviction. She was having trouble hiding her unhappiness now. She hated what was happening. She felt out of control of her future and her destiny. Just as horrible to her, she was beginning to feel like a charity case.

“I can't give you an opinion of Morgan,” Caine remarked. “I've never met him.”

“I've met him,” his father said. “I liked him well enough. Perhaps we could invite him over for . . . Why in God's name are you shaking your head now, Colin?”

“Yes, brother,” Caine interjected. “What's wrong with Morgan?”

Colin let out a sigh. He was having difficulty finding anything wrong with the man. Caine wasn't helping him concentrate. He started laughing.

“This isn't amusing,” Colin snapped.

“Yes, it is,” Caine contradicted. “Let's see now,” he drawled out. “So far we've discarded nine possible candidates because of drunkenness, averice, gluttony, jealousy, perversion, greed, lust, and so on, and I'd really love to hear your reason for finding Morgan unsuitable. I believe you've used up all the seven deadly sins, Colin.”

“What are you suggesting, Caine?” Colin demanded.

“You don't like any of them.”

“Damned right I don't. I'm thinking of Alesandra's happiness. She's a princess. She deserves better.”

That last remark told Caine everything he needed to know. He now understood why Colin was in such a foul mood. It was obvious to Caine that his brother wanted Alesandra, but in his mind he had decided he wasn't worthy enough. Oh, yes, that was it, Caine decided. Colin was the second son and therefore hadn't inherited land or title. His obsession with building an empire was all part of his quest to achieve recognition on his own. Caine was proud that his brother was an independent man, but, damn it all, that pride would force him to let Alesandra slip away.

Unless he was forced into marriage, of course.

“But what about Morgan?” his father asked again. “What's wrong with him?”

“Nothing,” Colin snapped.

His father was beginning to smile when Colin added, “If Alesandra doesn't mind bowlegged children.”

“For the love of . . .” His father slumped back against the cushions in defeat.

“Is Morgan bowlegged?” Caine asked Alesandra. He was feeling quite proud of himself. He'd been able to ask that question without even cracking a smile.

“I must confess I didn't notice his legs, but if Colin says he's bowlegged, then he must be. Will I have to have children?”

“Yes,” Colin told her.

“He won't do then. I don't wish to have bowlegged children.”

She turned to look up at Colin. “Is it a painful condition?” she asked him in a whisper.

“Yes,” Colin lied.

The discussion continued for another hour. Caine and his father both took turns tossing out names of possible husbands and Colin found something wrong with every one of them.

Caine was thoroughly enjoying himself. He pulled the footrest over, stretched out, and propped his feet up so that he'd be more comfortable.

Colin was becoming more and more agitated. He'd removed his arm from Alesandra's shoulders and was now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees while he waited for his father to think of another candidate.

The longer the talk continued, the more upset Alesandra became. She hid behind her mask of serenity, but her hands were clutched into fists in her lap.

Just when she thought she couldn't stand to hear another name offered, Colin leaned back and covered her hands with one of his.

She didn't want his comfort, yet she clung to his hand.

“Alesandra, what do you want to do?”

Caine asked her that question. She was too embarrassed to tell him the truth, to admit that more than anything she wished she could marry a man she loved. She wanted the kind of marriage her parents had had, but that wasn't possible.

“I thought I wanted to become a nun, but Mother Superior wouldn't let me.”

There were tears in her eyes and for that reason no one laughed. “And why wouldn't she let you?” Caine asked.

“I'm not Catholic,” Alesandra explained. “It's an important requirement.”

He did smile then. He simply couldn't help it. “You wouldn't have been happy as a nun,” he predicted.

She wasn't particularly happy now, but she didn't believe it would be polite to mention that.

“Alesandra, why don't you go and find Gweneth,” her guardian suggested. “You haven't met Jade yet, now have you? Go and introduce yourself to Caine's lovely wife.”

She acted as though she'd just been given a reprieve. The look of relief on her face was there for all of them to see.

Alesandra had stood up before she realized she hadn't let go of Colin's hand yet. She quickly pulled away, and then left the room.

The three men stood up until she'd left the salon, then resumed their seats. Colin dragged the footrest over, propped his feet up, and leaned back.

“This is damned difficult for her,” he muttered.

“Yes,” his father agreed. “I wish there was time for her to adjust to her circumstances, but there isn't, Colin.”

Caine decided to turn the topic. “I'm curious, Father,” he remarked. “How did you meet Alesandra's father?”

“It was at Ashford's annual bash,” his father explained. “Nathaniel and I took to one another right away. He was quite a man,” he added with a nod.

“And so are you to take on responsibility for his daughter,” Colin remarked.

His father's expression underwent a dramatic change. He looked terribly sad now. “No, you've got it all wrong,” he said. “There is something neither one of you knows and I imagine now is the time for me to confess my sins. You're going to find out sooner or later.”

The seriousness in their father's voice told both sons the matter was of grave importance. They gave him their full attention and waited for him to compose his thoughts.

Long minutes passed before he spoke again. “I got into trouble just after your mother died, Caine,” he explained. “I hadn't met Gweneth yet and I had started drinking—quite heavily, as a matter of fact.”

“You? But you never drink,” Colin argued.

“I don't drink now,” his father agreed. “I did back then. I gambled too. The debts, they piled up, of course, and I kept fooling myself into believing I would win back enough to cover my losses.”

Colin and Caine were too astonished to say anything. They stared at their father as though he'd suddenly turned into a complete stranger.

“This is a difficult confession for me to make,” he continued. “No father likes parading his sins in front of his sons.”

“The past is over,” Colin told him. “Let it go.”

His father shook his head. “It isn't as simple as all that,” he explained. “I want you to understand. I was almost ruined, you see, and would have been if it hadn't been for Alesandra's father. Everything I'd inherited and worked so hard to build was in the hands of the moneylenders as collateral against the loans. Yes, I would have been ruined.”

“What happened then?” Caine asked when his father didn't continue.

“Nathaniel came to my rescue. I was at White's one minute and the next I remember I was back home. I was told I blacked out at the tables from too much drink. When I next opened my eyes, Nathaniel was standing over me, and, Lord, was he angry. I was so hung over all I wanted was to be left alone. He wouldn't leave, however. He threatened me, too.”

“What was his threat?” Caine asked. He was so surprised by his father's confession he leaned forward and clasped his hands together in expectation.

“He told me you were downstairs,” his father said. “You were so young and impressionable and Nathaniel threatened to bring you up so you could see what your father had become. Needless to say, the threat sobered me up. I would rather have died than let you see me in such a humiliating condition.”

No one said a word for several minutes. Caine didn't have any memory of his father's drinking days. “How old was I?” he asked.

“Almost five.”

“If I was that young, I probably wouldn't have remembered if I had seen you drunk,” he remarked.

“Nathaniel knew how much I loved you,” his father said. “Oh, he was clever, all right. It was my darkest hour, my turning point as well.”

“What was done about the debts?” Colin asked.

His father smiled. How like Colin to be the one to ask that question. His younger son was the most practical member of the family—the most disciplined, too.

“Nathaniel went to all the moneylenders. He purchased the notes. In less than one day, I was completely out of debt. He tried to give me the notes, but I refused his charity. I wouldn't let him tear them up either. I wanted him to hold on to them until I could repay. I even insisted he add interest.”

“And has the debt been repaid?” Caine asked.

“No, it hasn't. Nathaniel took his wife back to Stone Haven. He gave me that beautiful treasure before he left,” he said with a nod toward the castle perched on the mantel. “Imagine that, giving me a gift after all he'd done. We kept current through letters, of course, and the next time he and his wife came to England, they had Alesandra with them. I tried to give him half of what I owed, but he wouldn't take it. It was damned awkward. Because he had acted so honorably with me, I couldn't ask him where the notes were. He died the following winter. Lord, I still mourn his passing. He was my dearest friend.”

Both sons agreed. Nathaniel had been a good friend.

“Who holds the notes now?” Caine asked.

“That's the dilemma, son. I don't know.”

“Have you asked Alesandra?” Colin wanted to know.

“No,” his father answered. “I doubt she knows anything about the transaction. As her guardian, I have access to some of her accounts. Dreyson, her agent, takes care of investments, but I don't believe he knows anything about the notes either.”

“Would you be able to repay the full amount if the notes and interest were called today?” Caine asked.

“Not all of it,” his father replied. “But I'm in a strong financial position now. If the notes were called, I could borrow what I need. I don't want to give either one of you the impression I'm worried. Nathaniel was a methodical, careful man. He put the notes in a safe place. I'm just curious to know where they are.”

“I'm curious, too,” Caine agreed.

“The purpose of my confession is twofold,” their father continued. “First, I want both of you to know the kind of man Alesandra's father was, and to understand the debt I owe him. Second, I want you to understand how I feel about his daughter. She's all alone in this world now and it is my duty to see she's protected from harm.”

“It is our duty as well,” Caine interjected.

Colin nodded agreement. The three men lapsed into silence again, each caught up in his own thoughts.

Colin tried to consider all the ramifications.

He had nothing to offer her. He had an empire to build, damn it, and there simply wasn't room or time for a wife.

She would drive him to distraction.

But there was the debt to be repaid, and all three of them were bound by honor to look out for Princess Alesandra.

His father was too old to take on the duty of keeping her safe. He didn't have the experience dealing with bastards either, Colin decided.

And then there was Caine. His older brother was busy running his own estates. He was married, too, and had his own family to consider.

There was only one son left.

Colin glanced up and noticed both his father and his brother were staring at him. He let out a loud sigh. They had known all along, of course, and were only waiting for him to come to the same conclusion.

“Hell, I'm going to have to marry her, aren't I?”

C
olin's father wanted to be the one to break the good news to Alesandra. Colin wouldn't let him. He thought he should be the one to tell her what had been decided.

“May I offer a word of advice, brother?” Caine asked.

He waited for Colin's nod, then said, “I don't believe you should tell her anything . . .”

His father wouldn't let him finish. “She'll have to know, Caine.”

His son smiled. “Yes, of course she'll have to know,” he agreed. “However, from my rather limited experience with women I've still been able to surmise that they don't like being told anything. Colin should ask her to marry him.”