A Royal Fortune. Judy Duarte

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      She turned and, upon seeing them, smiled. “Oh, good. Now we’re all here.”

      Well, not all of them. Her once slender waist was as big as the globe in the library back home, reminding Jensen that soon there’d be one more Fortune to add to the world—albeit with the Drummond surname.

      “Can I help you with that?” he asked.

      “Yes, thank you. I’ll tell everyone they can begin passing out their presents now.”

      Jensen took the bowl and made his way to the living room, which was filled to the brim with relatives, every chair taken, others forced to stand or to find room to sit on the faded rag rug. But apparently, he was the only one who’d found himself on edge.

      Jeanne Marie Fortune Jones, who resembled his mother in looks, but not in style, was just as bright eyed and happy as his mum to have the family together. Her husband, Deke, stood by her side, somewhat stoic but with the hint of a grin tugging at his lips.

      Their children were all here. Stacey Fortune Jones, along with her fiancé, Colton Foster, kept a close eye on her daughter Piper, who was toddling around the Christmas tree and trying to keep up with her older cousins.

      Liam and his fiancée Julia Tierney were posed next to Quinn’s upright piano. Jensen suspected someone would suggest they sing a round of Christmas carols before the day was over.

      Jude, with his fiancée Gabi Mendoza, stood near the children, all of whom appeared to be on sugar highs. Yet the happy couple held hands and looked on at the festivities as if they couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but here.

      Even Christopher, who’d been absent from several Horseback Hollow social gatherings last year, was here, along with his fiancée Kinsley Aaron. Apparently, he was back in the family saddle after his rejection of ranch life created discord with his father earlier in the year.

      Jensen blew out a sigh. So many engaged couples. Would they all be this happy next year, after their vows were spoken? He hoped so, but he tended to be skeptical about things like that.

      Of course, Toby and his wife, Angie, who watched their newly adopted children tear into their gifts, certainly appeared to be as happy as ever.

      Rounding out the family gathering were Jensen’s brother Charles and his sister Lucie, who were staying in nearby Vicker’s Corners at the closest B and B they could find. The two were smiling, but they looked a little uncomfortable among the exuberant American relatives. Jensen wasn’t uncomfortable, though. He, better than any of the British Fortunes, probably understood the Texas way of life. He was merely awed by it all.

      About that time, his mother approached the serving bowl for a refill of eggnog, which was unusual for a woman who watched her calorie intake. But apparently she was celebrating and throwing caution to the wind.

      “It’s so good to see you happy, son.”

      What was she talking about? Had he been smiling?

      She slipped an affectionate arm around him. “Have I told you how delighted I am to have so many of my family together?”

      The smile, which he must have been wearing, deepened. “Several times in the past hour.”

      She lifted her free hand and fluttered her fingers in a little wave at her sister, Jeanne Marie, who wore a new pair of her signature stretch-denim jeans and an oversize Christmas-themed jumper.

      Again, Jensen was reminded of the sisters’ differences. They’d grown up worlds apart—one on an English estate and the other on a small working cattle ranch—something that could be seen easily in their style of dress. Still, they shared many similarities, including a love that knew no bounds.

      “This is what it’s all about,” his mum said. “Family.”

      Jensen suspected she was talking about more than just a holiday reunion. She’d made no secret of her wish to see him and his siblings settle down. Hopefully, Amelia’s baby would take her mind off matchmaking.

      But then again, it seemed that everyone else in the room had marriage on their mind. His four engaged cousins had planned a huge wedding for Valentine’s Day.

      Jensen looked across the room, where Quinn stood next to Amelia, his arm wrapped around her. When she grimaced, Quinn immediately picked up on her discomfort, his expression growing as serious as a first-year pupil meeting his housemaster at Eton.

      Amelia smiled, whispered something to her husband and placed his hand over her baby bump. His eyes grew wide and then he smiled, too.

      Hopefully Amelia would breeze through labor with no snags or problems. But what if something went wrong during birth? What if...?

      Jensen tried to shake his troublesome thoughts. What he really ought to worry about was the press infiltrating the couple’s privacy. They’d resorted to all kinds of trickery to learn whether the baby was a girl or boy. But Amelia and Quinn had chosen to be surprised at birth, which none of the reporters believed.

      A rap sounded at the door just as laughter burst out at something Toby’s precocious daughter had said to her red-haired brother.

      Jensen heard another noise, although no one else seemed to take note of it. Had someone knocked?

      * * *

      Amber Rogers stood on the Drummonds’ front porch and rapped on the door again. She’d driven to the Rocking U Ranch to deliver a gift for Amelia, Quinn’s new wife. It was a handmade baby blanket, although the sections Amber had quilted weren’t as neatly stitched as Gram’s.

      But it was the thought that counted, right?

      There were a whole slew of cars parked outside and a god-awful commotion going on inside the house, but apparently no one had heard her knock. So she rang the bell.

      Moments later, a tall and sophisticated stranger swung open the door. He was wearing a well-tailored suit and tie—something so out of place and unexpected on a small Texas ranch that it caught her off guard and made her think about the back-to-back episodes of Downton Abbey she’d been watching with Gram.

      Surely Lady Josephine hadn’t brought along her butler and the entire Chesterfield Estate staff.

      But then she realized exactly where she’d seen the drop-dead gorgeous guy before—on the front page of a tabloid down at the Superette—and she swallowed. Hard.

      Before she could think better of it, she blurted out, “Oh, it’s you.”

      “I beg your pardon?” he said in a rich British accent.

      Amber cringed inwardly. Obviously they’d never met, and she’d just implied that they had. Why did she always have to stick her foot in her mouth?

      She opened her lips to apologize, but she merely stammered instead, her cheeks warming.

      Dang. She could be such a goof at times.

      “What СКАЧАТЬ