Free The Inheritance by Joan Johnston Page A

position to know, Englishmen could be blindly stubborn when it came to certain social issues. Legitimacy was definitely one of them.
    His son was the one thing he loved in all the world. For Colin’s sake, he was willing to try. Nicholas remembered Charles Warenne, who was now the Earl of Rotherham. He and Tony and Stephen had played together with Charles as boys. He remembered the earl as a daredevil, as a boy as wild as Nicholas himself. It seemed strange to consider his childhood friend in the role of protective father. Perhaps Charles would be willing to ease his restrictions for old time’s sake.
    “Don’t get your hopes up,” Nicholas said. “Theearl may not change his mind even after I speak to him.”
    Colin grinned. “I know you, Pa. When you talk to people, they usually come around. Do it soon, will you, Pa? I need to see Lady Roanna again.”
    “I’ll do it tomorrow,” Nicholas promised.
    “Good night, Pa.”
    “Good night, son.”
    They didn’t touch each other as they parted, not physically, anyway. But Colin met his father’s glance and communicated all the wealth of love and respect he felt. And Nicholas let Colin see his deep affection in return.
    A moment later, the door closed quietly behind Colin.
    Nicholas stripped—he slept naked when he was at home—and slipped into bed. He had forgotten how soft a bed could be. The mattress threatened to swallow him as he slid into its downy softness.
    Nicholas blamed his inability to sleep on the too-soft bed, but it was his thoughts that kept him awake. They didn’t concern Colin’s problem, nor the tribulations of Severn Manor or its tenants. There was only one star in his sky, and its name was Daisy Windermere.
    Nicholas wondered why he had agreed to marry her when he had vowed years ago—when the one and only proposal he had ever made to a woman had been thrown laughingly back in his face—never to wed. Perhaps it was because this wasn’t a real marriage. But she was going to come to his bed. That was real enough. If he was honest with himself, there was an easy explanation for his aberrant behavior:he wanted her. And because she was a lady, the only way to have her was to marry her.
    Nicholas had taken his share of whores to bed, but he had never gotten involved with a lady. He had seen a few he desired but had never been willing to make the commitment a lady demanded in trade for her virtue. Besides, a lady wanted the desire he felt for the female of the species sugarcoated with words of love and caring. The two women he had loved in his life—his mother and the mother of his son—had each betrayed him. He wasn’t going to give another woman that chance.
    He had agreed to the marriage with Daisy Windermere because it offered him what he wanted—her body—without requiring that he lie to her about loving her, and without the need for him to surrender anything of himself to a female who was bound to prove untrustworthy in the end.
    He would take what he wanted from her and give her what she asked in return. He would work with her to make of Severn Manor the successful enterprise it could be.
    Then he would sell it and return to America. It would not matter that he left a wife in England. She would be happy in her dower house. He would go back to his ranch in Texas and forget about her.
    They would both be getting exactly what they wanted.

5

    Nicholas awoke in a cold sweat. He took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm his racing heart. The dream had come back to haunt him, even here in England. There was no escaping it. He had thought his father’s—Lord Philip’s—death might ease his desperate need to know the truth. Obviously the dream wasn’t going to release him until he sought out answers for the questions that had plagued him over the past twenty-two years. Was he his father’s son? And if not, who was his father?
    Perhaps Lord Philip had left a journal or some papers that would indicate who had convinced him Nicholas