The Rejected Wife: Chapter 28

‘Don’t make me regret that I made you an heir to my fortune.’ Arthur glowers at me from under his eyebrows. ‘I realize, you’re not happy with my condition, but in time, you’ll appreciate it.’

We’re in his study. I received his command to come by and see him today. Not unusual for Arthur. He’s known to summon my brothers when he has something of importance to discuss. It’s the first time he’s called and asked me to come out of the blue.

The only reason I could make it is because I have Priscilla at home with Serene. In the month since she’s taken on the role of Serene’s nanny, my life has regained some semblance of normality. I have a little more space during the day. The nights, though, are still rough.

‘Tyler, are you listening?’ Arthur’s voice cuts through my thoughts. I yawn, then shake my head to clear it.

‘Am I boring you?’ my grandfather asks through gritted teeth.

Yes.

‘Sorry. Didn’t sleep much last night.’

‘Serene still having nightmares?’ Imelda asks in sympathy.

‘She’s better than she was six months ago,’ I murmur.

It means, I have to wake up once, instead of three times every night to soothe her when she wakes up crying from night terrors. I don’t say that aloud, though. I’m wary of complaining about the challenges of raising my daughter when the satisfaction far outweighs any hardship.

Tiny heaves himself to his feet. He pads over, sinks down next to my chair, and pushes his big head into my lap.

‘Hey, boy.’ I scratch him behind his ear, and he makes a purring noise in his throat. ‘Serene loves playing with him. He’s so good with her.’

‘He is.’ Some of the sternness in Arthur slips away. Other than Imelda, it’s this mutt he has a soft spot for. As for the rest of us? I often wonder if he tolerates us only because we are the bearers of his bloodline.

‘You were saying?’ I prompt him.

‘That you need to get married.’

I scoff. It’s Gramps’ favorite topic. He’s on a mission to marry his remaining single grandsons off.

‘I put you boys in my will. And I want you to inherit your share of the Davenports’ wealth. But first, you need to get married.’

I fix him with a scowl. It’s the first time Arthur has given me what sounds like a deadline on this matter. ‘You may have harangued my brothers but I’m wise to your machinations.’

He pops a shoulder. ‘I’ve never hidden the fact that I’ll do what’s necessary to get you guys married off. Besides, Ryot married Aurelia of his own volition.’

‘Hmph.’ It’s true that it was Ryot’s idea to help Aurelia pay off her father’s debts in return for her marrying him. But my brothers and I speculated Arthur had had a hand in setting things up, nevertheless.

‘As for Quentin, Nathan and Knox, all I did was nudge them in the right direction.’ He looks pleased with himself.

‘You told them you’d disinherit them unless they got married, which is what you’re trying to tell me now, if I’m not mistaken.’

‘You are the most astute of the lot. I know you’ll figure out a way to get married within the next four weeks—’ He doesn’t complete the sentence. While it’s a barely disguised threat, he says it while managing to look innocent. A look which may fool an unsuspecting person into thinking he’s a harmless old man. But I know the truth. He’s a devious, Machiavellian bastard who’ll do anything to get his way.

While Gramps was diagnosed with the Big C, the treatment was successful. He’s in remission and is settled with his girlfriend. No doubt, the diagnosis made him aware of his mortality. It’s why he’s putting a time limit on my getting married. He wants to see me hustle. And I get that. But I resent it.

Anger knots my gut. I shove it down, digging deeply into the patience I learned in the Marines—the kind you need when you’re on a mission for weeks, getting close to the enemy, waiting for the right moment to strike—and refined as the single parent of a demanding and too-intelligent-for-my-own-good toddler.

Imelda scowls at Arthur. ‘What your grandfather means is that he’s worried about you.” She turns to me. “He knows bringing up a child on your own is a lot.’

“Hmm.” I look between them. “Somehow, I doubt that, given Gramps hasn’t a single empathetic bone in his body”—Arthur opens his mouth, but I keep going—“but giving him the benefit of the doubt, and assuming that is his motivation, why has he waited this long to bring this up? Why didn’t he do it when Serene first came into my life?”

“Because I knew you were trying to find her birth mother. I thought, perhaps, you might settle down with her.” Arthur shrugs. “Clearly, that’s not happening.”

Before I can react to that, Imelda rushes in with, ‘Not that you’re doing a bad job. It’s beyond amazing. As a single parent, you’ve been stellar. You’ve given so much love and attention to that little girl, it’s clear to all of us that she’s thriving.’

I subside, somewhat mollified. Imelda’s a tough cookie, but she has a way of playing peacemaker and interpreting Arthur’s words for the rest of us so that they appear less offensive. She helps to soften his edges and make him appear almost human.

My grandfather cuts in, ‘And now that you have a reliable nanny…’

‘How do you know that?’ I ask, my hackles rising.

He waves a hand dismissively. ‘It doesn’t matter. The point is, I know that Priscilla Whittington is Serene’s nanny now. So, that frees up your time to find a wife.’

I’m momentarily stunned into silence when Imelda cuts in, “The fact is, you’ve been pushing yourself too hard, Tyler. If you had someone to share the weight⁠—”

“I’m not going to marry someone just so I have help with Serene,” I snap. ‘That’s why I have a nanny.’ And yes, I’m aware that nannies come and go. But I definitely will not marry Priscilla just to ensure she’ll stay. She deserves better than that. Never mind the fact that Ihaven’t stopped thinking about how quickly Serene bonded with her, and how she’d make a perfect mother for her.

“No one’s suggesting you tie the knot just to get a live-in caregiver,” Imelda says gently. “What your grandfather means is⁠—”

“If you’re not married in four weeks, you’re out of the will,” Arthur cuts in, plain and direct.

Imelda sighs. She seems like she’s about to contradict him, then sighs.

Tiny raises his head and whines. ‘It’s okay, boy.’ I pat his head. ‘Gramps needed to get that out of his system.’ I rub under his jaw until Tiny finally sinks back with his head between his paws.

‘Thank you for being honest.’ I lean back in my seat. ‘I will not be coerced into marriage.’ I narrow my gaze on Arthur.

‘That’s what your brothers said, too. Now look how happy they are.’ Arthur coughs. ‘I’m getting on, boy. I won’t be around much longer. And I fully intend to see you lot settled before I depart.’

The man’s health seems to improve with every passing day. I’m also aware he likes to play the victim card, if it means he can get his way. Though, hearing him cough again, I have to give him the benefit of doubt.

Imelda rises to her feet and pours him a glass of water. As he drinks it, she plumps the cushion at his back.

‘Enough, woman. Stop fussing,’ Arthur says gruffly, but his eyes tell me he loves the attention. He proves it when he grabs her hand and kisses it before letting go. ‘Thanks, Im.’

Imelda smiles, her face lighting up in a way that makes the decades drop away. ‘You’re very welcome.’

She begins to move away, but he pats the couch next to him. ‘Sit with me.’

Imelda sinks down, and they hold hands. They look into each other’s eyes, and it feels like a tender, very personal moment. And suddenly, I feel like I’m intruding.

‘Guess I’ll be off.’ I rise to my feet, but Arthur turns to me.

‘I’m not done.’

I sink back with a sigh. ‘You’ve said your piece, what else is left?’

‘I’m lucky I found Imelda. And thankful she drilled some sense into my stubborn head, so I didn’t let my ego stand in the way of confessing my feelings for her.’

I look between them, the way she looks at him adoringly, and something like envy squeezes my chest. I admit, there have been times in the past few months when I wished there were someone else—okay, Priscilla—who could share the load of childrearing with me. It goes against every reason why I pushed her to walk out of my life. But she kept returning. Not once, but twice. And this time… It feels right. The way Serene has taken to her confirms it. But thinking of her in the same breath as my wife, simply because Arthur has demanded I marry?

Fact is, I can’t see anyone else in that position. From the moment I met her, I knew she was my future. I pushed her away so I could focus on my daughter because I was sure I couldn’t give her the kind of attention she deserved. I wanted her to be free of the responsibility that came with having Serene in my life. Then, I was hurt because she agreed to marry Knox. But as far as I’m concerned, she’s always been the one. Now, Arthur is pushing me to marry, and I can’t conceive of being with anyone else.

Only… Is it fair to Priscilla? And why would she marry me now, after how I pushed her away in the first place?

The old man’s ramblings are confusing me and twisting around my thoughts.

‘I understand why it might feel scary to open up your life to someone else, especially now that you have a little girl to take care of… But it’s because of her that I’m pushing this. She needs a mother,” Arthur says in a firm voice.

All of which is true and mirrors sentiments I’ve felt over the last few months. Longer than that, if I’m being honest. Especially when Serene would look at women in storybooks, point to them and say, ‘Mama.’ And she’s stopped doing that since Priscilla arrived. Is it a coincidence she called Priscilla by that name?

She’s never said that to anyone else. She seemed too confident, like her instinct told her Priscilla is the mother she’s been looking for. And I can’t deny, she’s the only woman I want in my life.

I made a mistake, asking Priscilla to leave that day. Of that, I have no doubt. The problem is, how do I convince Priscilla she can trust me now?

Outwardly though, I scoff. “I call bullshit. You’re pushing it because you want all your grandsons married, and you’re using Serene as a convenience to get me hitched.”

Arthur adopts a look of innocence which is patently false on his face. Gramps should get an Academy Award. “You wound me, Grandson. I only have your best interests at heart.”

I glare at him, and he smiles back. He’s enjoying himself. This is Arthur in his element, controlling the lot of us like pawns on a chessboard.

‘You know how to time your demands, don’t you, old man?’ I lean forward in my seat. ‘You know, I would do everything in my power to ensure Serene gets access to the Davenport wealth. It’s her due.’

Which means, I need to find a way to comply with Arthur’s demands. For unless I claim my inheritance, I can’t pass it on to my daughter. Only, I have no idea how I’m going to do this.

As if he can read my mind, Arthur’s expression softens. But his voice stays steady. “I want Serene to have what’s hers, too. But that depends on you.” He taps the arm of the sofa, eyes on mine. “So, what’s your move?”