A Bride's Tangled Vows

скачать книгу бесплатно


Aiden frowned as his grandfather’s head eased back against the pillows, as if he simply didn’t have the energy to keep up his diabolical power-monger role anymore.

“As your grandfather told you, I’m his lawyer,” Canton said as he reached out to shake Aiden’s hand, his grip forceful, perhaps overcompensating for his thin frame. “I’ve been handling your grandfather’s affairs for about five years now.”

“You have my condolences,” Aiden said.

Canton paused, blinking behind his glasses at Aiden’s droll tone.

James lifted his head, irritation adding to the strain on his lined face. “There are things that need to be taken care of, Aiden. Soon.”

His own anger rushed to replace numb curiosity. “You mean, you’re going to arrange everything so it will continue just the way you want it.”

This time James managed to jerk forward in a shadow of his favorite stance: that of looming over the unsuspecting victim. “I’ve run this family for over fifty years. I know what’s best. Not some slacker who runs away at the first hint of responsibility. Your mother—”

He fell back with a gasp, shaking as his eyes closed.

“Christina,” Canton said, his sharp tone echoing in the room.

Christina crossed to the bed and checked James’s pulse on the underside of his fragile wrist. Aiden noticed the tremble of her fingers with their blunt-cut nails. So she wasn’t indifferent. Did she actually care for the old buzzard? Somehow he couldn’t imagine it. Then she held James’s head while he swallowed some more water. Her abundant hair swung forward to hide her features, but her movements were efficient and sure.

Despite wanting to remain unmoved, Aiden’s heart sped up. “You should be in a hospital,” he said.

“They couldn’t make him stay once your grandfather refused further treatments. He said if he was going to die, he would die at Blackstone Manor,” Canton said. “Christina was already in residence and could follow the doctor’s orders....”

His grandfather breathed deeply, then rested back against the pillows, his mouth drawn, eyes closed.

“Can you?” Aiden asked her.

She glanced up, treating him to another glimpse of creamy, flawless skin and chocolate eyes flickering with worry.

“Of course,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Mr. Blackstone isn’t going to die. But he will need significant recovery time. I’d prefer him to stay in the hospital for a bit longer, but...” Her shrug said what can you do when a person’s crazy?

Something about her rubbed Aiden wrong. She didn’t belong in this room or with these people. Her beauty and grace shouldn’t be sullied by his grandfather’s villainous legacy. But that calm, professional facade masked her feelings in this situation. Was she just here for the job? Or another reason? Once more, Aiden felt jealous of her, wishing he could master his own emotions so completely.

But he was out of practice in dealing with the old man.

This time, Christina retreated to the shadows beyond the abundant purple bed curtains. Close, but not hovering. Though keenly aware of her presence, Aiden could barely make out her form as she leaned against the wall with her arms wrapped around her waist. It unsettled him, distracted him. Right now, he needed all his focus on the battle he sensed was coming.

“Your grandfather is concerned for the mill—” Canton said.

“I don’t give a damn what happens to that place. Tear it down. Burn it, for all I care.”

His grandfather’s jaw tightened, but he made no attempt to defend the business where he’d poured what little humanity he possessed, completely ignoring the needs of his family. The emotional needs, at least.

“And the town?” Canton asked. “You don’t care what happens to the people working in Blackstone Mills? Generations of townspeople, your mother’s friends, kids you went to school with, Marie’s nieces and nephews?”

Aiden clamped his jaw tight. He didn’t want to get involved, but as the lawyer spoke, faces flashed through his mind’s eye. The mill had stood for centuries, starting out as a simple cotton gin. Last Aiden had heard, it was a leading manufacturer in cotton products, specializing in high-end linens. James might be a bastard, but his insistence on quality had kept the company viable in a shaky economy. Aiden jammed a rough hand through his damp hair, probably making the spiky top stand on end.

Without warning, he felt a familiar surge of rebellion. “I don’t want to take over. I’ve never wanted to.” He strode across the plush carpet to stare out the window into the storm-shadowed distance. Tension tightened the muscles along the back of his neck and skull. Familial responsibility wasn’t his thing—anymore. He’d handed that job over to his brothers a long time ago.

Aiden realized he was shifting minutely from one foot to the other. Creeping in underneath the turbulence was a constant awareness of Christina’s presence, like a sizzle under his skin, loosening his control over his other emotions inch by inch. She drew him, kept part of his attention even when he was talking to the others. How had she come to be here? How long had she been here? Had she ever found a place to belong? The heightened emotion increased the tension in his neck. A dull headache started to form.

“You knew something like this was coming, considering your age—” Aiden gestured back toward the bed “—you should have sold. Or turned the business over to someone else. One of my brothers.”

“It isn’t their duty,” James insisted. “As firstborn, it’s yours—and way past time you learned your place.”

As if he could sense the rage starting to boil deep inside Aiden, Canton stepped in. “Mr. Blackstone wants the mill to remain a family institution that will continue to provide jobs and a center for the town. The only potential buyers we have want to tear it down and sell off the land.”

Aiden latched on to the family institution part. “Ah, the lasting name of Blackstone. Planned a monument yet?”

A weary yet insistent voice drifted from the bed. “I will do what needs to be done. And so will you.”

“How will you manage that? I walked out that door once. I’m more than happy to do it again.”

“Really? Do you think that’s the best thing for your mother?” James went on as if Aiden hadn’t spoken. “I’ve worked my entire life to build on the hard work of my own father. I will not let my life’s work disappear because you won’t do your duty. You will return where you belong. I’ll see to that.”

Aiden used his hand to squeeze away the tightness in his neck. “Oh, no. I’m not buying into that song and dance. As far as I’m concerned, this family line should die out. If the Blackstone name disappears, all the better.”

“I knew you’d feel that way,” his grandfather said with a long-suffering sigh. “That’s why I’m prepared to make it worth your while.”

* * *

Christina listened to the men spar with one another as if from a distance. Shock cocooned her inside her own bubble of fear.

Aiden’s gaze tracked the lawyer’s movements as he spoke, but Christina’s remained focused on Aiden. The impenetrable mask of rebellion and pride that shielded any softer emotions. The breadth of his shoulders. The ripple of muscles in his chest and forearms, reminding her of his strength, his dominance.

Could a man that strong prevail over someone with James’s history of cunning maneuvers, both business and personal?

“Why don’t you just lay it out for me,” Aiden said, his voice curt, commanding the immense space of the master suite. A shiver worked its way down Christina’s spine. “The condensed version.”

This time, Canton didn’t look to James for permission. Proving he learned quickly, he cleared his throat and continued.

“Your grandfather set up legal documents covering all the angles,” he said, pulling a fat pack of papers from his briefcase. “It essentially hands you the rights to the mill and Blackstone Manor.”

“I told you,” Aiden said. “I don’t want it. Sell it.”

Christina’s throat closed in sympathy and fear.

“We can,” Canton said. “The interested buyer is a major competitor, who will shut it down and sell it piece by piece. Including the land Mill Row is built on. And every last one of the people living in those fifty houses will be turned out so their homes can be torn down.”

James joined in with relish. “The money from the sale will make a splendid law library at the university. Not the legacy I’d planned,” he said with a shrug. “But it’ll do.”

Canton paused, but James wasn’t one for niceties. “Go on,” he insisted.

Canton hesitated a moment more, which surprised Christina. She hadn’t cared for the weaselly man from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him, and his kowtowing to James had only reinforced her first impressions. For him to resist the old man—even in a small way—was new. Maybe having to face the person whose life he was ruining awakened a small bit of conscience.

“If you choose not to take over, Mr. Blackstone will exercise his power of attorney over his daughter to place her in the county care facility. Immediately.”

A cry lodged in Christina’s throat before it escaped as she envisioned the chaos this would unleash, the disruption and danger to Lily, Aiden’s mother. She’d cared for Lily for five years, from the moment Christina had received her nursing degree. But Lily had been a second mother to her long before that, the type of mother she’d never had. The last thing she’d allow to happen would be handing Lily over for substandard care.

Aiden’s intense gaze swiveled to search the dark recess where she stood. The shadows comforted her, helped her separate from the confrontation playing out before her. But that intense gaze pulled her forcibly into the present. His brows drew together in concern, the only emotion to soften him so far. She could literally feel every time his gaze zeroed in on her—a mixture of nerves and a physical reaction she’d never experienced before today.

But then his eyes narrowed on his grandfather, his face hardening once more. “What would happen to Mother there?”

James smiled, as his hateful words emerged from taunting lips. “Christina, I believe you’ve been to the county care facility, haven’t you? During your schooling, wasn’t it? Tell Aiden about it.”

Christina winced as she imagined what Aiden must be thinking. Only someone as manipulative and egocentric as James could determine that this scenario—disowning his own invalid daughter—was the best way to preserve his little kingdom. Her voice emerged rusty and strained. “It’s gotten an inferior rating for as many years as I’ve been a nurse, and it’s had regular complaints brought against it for neglect...but very little has been done because it’s the only place here that will take in charity cases for the elderly or disabled.”

“How do you know I don’t have enough money to take away that option?” Aiden asked, a touch of his grandfather’s arrogance bleeding onto that handsome face.

Canton replied. “You can try, but with power of attorney, your grandfather has the final say.”

“We’ll just go to court and get it transferred to one of my brothers.”

But not himself, Christina noted.

“You can, and I can’t stop you,” James said. “But how long do you think that case will take? Months? A year? Will your mother have that long...in that environment?”

“You’d do that to her, your own daughter?” Aiden asked James.

Having watched him since she was a kid, instinctively knowing he was even more dangerous than her own family but drawn inexplicably by Lily’s love and concern, Christina fully acknowledged what James was capable of, the lack of compassion he felt for others. He’d turn every one of them out without one iota of guilt, might even enjoy it if he was alive to see it happen.

She rubbed trembling, sweaty palms against her thighs. Would Lily survive the impersonal, substandard care at that facility? For how long? Although Lily was in a coma, Christina firmly believed she was at times aware of her surroundings. The last time they’d moved Lily to the private hospital for some necessary tests, she’d gotten agitated, heartbeat racing, then ended up catching a virus from hospital germs. How long could she be exposed to the lower standards at the county facility without being infected with something deadly?

As numbness gave way to fiery pain, Christina stumbled forward. “Of course he would.”

She didn’t mean for the bitterness or desperation to bleed into her voice. The fire that started to smolder in Aiden’s almost-black eyes sent a shiver over her, though he never looked her way.

“You son of a bitch,” he said, spearing James with a glare. “Your own daughter—no more than a pawn in your little game.”

Christina’s heart pounded as fear battled awareness in her blood. This man, and the fierceness of his anger, mesmerized her. She instinctively knew he could introduce a whole new element of danger to this volatile situation.

James punched the bed with a weak fist. “This isn’t a game. My legacy, the mill, this town, must continue or all will be for nothing. Better two people pay the price than the whole town.”

Aiden frowned, his body going still. “Two of us?”

Canton raised his hand, drawing attention his way. “There’s an additional condition to this deal. You can accept all or nothing.”

Dragging a hand through his hair once more, Aiden moved away, stopping by the window to stare out at the heavy rain. Lightning flashed, outlining his strong shoulders and stiff posture.

Canton cleared his throat. “You must marry and reside in Blackstone Manor for one year. Only then will your grandfather release you from the bargain, or release your inheritance to you, if he has passed on.”

Aiden drew a deep, careful breath into his lungs, but one look at his grandfather seemed to crack his control. Words burst from between those tightened lips. “No. Absolutely not. You can’t do that.”

James’s body jerked, his labored breathing rasping his voice. “I can do whatever I want, boy. The fact that you haven’t visited your own mother in ten years means no judge will have sympathy for you if you try to get custody.” His labored breathing grew louder. “You’d do well to keep your temper under control. Remember the consequences the last time you crossed me.”

Christina winced. She’d seen more than one instance of James’s consequences—they hadn’t been pretty. Lily had told her Aiden’s continued rebellion had cost him access to his mother, and eventually cost Lily her health.

“Why me?” Aiden asked. “Why not one of the twins?”

James met the question with a cruel twist of his lips. “Because it’s you I want. A chip off the old block should be just stubborn enough to lead a whole new generation where I want it to go.”

The cold shock was wearing off now, penetrated by sharp streaks of fear. Nolen, Marie and Lily—the other residents of Blackstone Manor—weren’t technically Christina’s relatives. Not blood-related, at least. But they were the closest she’d come in her lifetime to being surrounded by people who cared about her. She wasn’t about to see them scattered to the winds, destroyed by James’s sick game of king of the world.

Besides, she owed this family, and the intense, dark-eyed man before her. Most of all, she owed Lily. Her debt was bigger than Lily had ever acknowledged or accepted Christina’s apologies for. If being used as a pawn would both settle her debt and protect those she’d come to love, then she’d do it. Christina’s family had taught her one lesson in her twenty-six years: how to make herself useful.

The lawyer stepped up to the plate. “Everything is set up in the paperwork. You either marry and keep the mill viable, or Ms. Blackstone will be moved immediately.”

A strained cackle had Aiden glancing at his grandfather. “Take it or leave it,” James rasped.

Christina barely detected the subtle slump of defeat in Aiden’s shoulders. “And just where am I supposed to find a paragon willing to sacrifice herself for the cause?”

“I’d think you’d be pretty good at hunting treasure by now,” James said, referring to Aiden’s career as an art dealer, already reveling in the victory they could all see coming.

“I’ve never been interested in a wife. And I doubt anyone would be willing to play your games, Grandfather.”

Taking a deep breath, Christina willed away the nausea crawling up the back of her throat. She pushed away from the wall. “I will,” she said.

Two (#u4324306c-d791-5af5-9bec-8f416cd1177d)

“Oh, and one last thing...”

When spoken by James, those were not the words Christina wanted to hear. She eyed the door to the suite with longing. Only a few more feet and she’d be free...

For now.

“A platonic relationship between you two isn’t acceptable. My goal is a legacy. I can’t get that with separate bedrooms.”

Panic bubbled up beneath the surface of her skin until Aiden replied with a droll, “Grandfather, you can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.”

Even from her new viewpoint near the door, Christina could see the twist of James’s lips. “My dear boy, lead a horse to water often enough, and it will damn sure get thirsty.”

The bad part was, James was right. She’d only been in the room with Aiden for a half hour and the awareness of him as a man sizzled across her with every look. But sleep with him? A man who was practically a stranger to her? She couldn’t do that.

But what about Lily?

Christina noted the fine tension in Aiden’s shoulders beneath his damp dress shirt. The whole room seemed to hold its breath, waiting on someone to make the next move. But it wouldn’t be her—right now, she had no clue what to do, what to think. She just needed out of here.

Echoing her thoughts, Aiden turned toward her and took a few steps, only pausing for a brief glance back at his grandfather. “I refuse to make this kind of choice within a matter of minutes. Or to let Christina do so. I’ll be back later tonight.”

Aiden’s control as he ushered them both from the room intrigued her. What was really going on behind his mask of defiance?

Christina maintained her own poise until the door to the master suite clicked shut behind her. Then she stumbled across the hall to the landing as if she was drunk. Pausing with a tight grasp on the cool wood of the balustrade, she drew air into lungs that felt like they were burning.

She’d just volunteered to become Aiden Blackstone’s wife. But considering James’s final requirement, how would she ever go through with it?

Startled by the shuffle of feet behind her, she tightened her grip on the wooden banister. Knowing Aiden and Canton were approaching, Christina struggled to pull herself together. She needed to get through the rest of the afternoon without the veneer cracking.

Just as she turned back to face the others, Nolen appeared at the end of the hallway. The old butler’s eyes carried more than their share of worry as he approached, but he didn’t say anything. He probably knew every detail of what had transpired in James Blackstone’s suite this afternoon. Somehow, he and Marie always knew.