Inner Harbor. Lois Richer

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ offense, but is there a history of mental illness in your family?” Annie’s fingers folded and refolded in her lap.

      Nervous energy, he decided, though she didn’t sound as surprised as he’d expected. Why was that? What was she hiding?

      “Not that I know of.” He grinned. “Though you might think so if you’d known my grandfather. Normal wasn’t in his vocabulary.”

      “I’m beginning to realize that.” Her blue gaze remained wide and fixed—on him.

      Russ took another sip of coffee, sorting through his words carefully.

      “Grandad was a character.” He stared into the black brew, remembering the old man’s penchant for running things. Then he chuckled. “But no one ever suggested Wharton Willoughby didn’t have what it took in the courtroom.”

      “There’s something you should know.”

      He watched Annie swallow, take a deep breath.

      “Your grandfather was my mother’s lawyer,” she whispered.

      Russ Mitchard met her frown with a shrug. He hadn’t known that, but then there was a lot about his grandfather he was just beginning to uncover. “I didn’t realize he actually knew you.” His brain began processing. “Though if he did, that explains his insistence on you as the chosen one.”

      “But—” She frowned at him, her eyes intently scrutinizing his features. “So he was your grandfather. Hmm.”

      She was holding back. Russ watched her puzzle something out in her mind and wondered what was going on.

      “My mother’s papa,” he confirmed with a nod. “Died a little before Thanksgiving. If you met him, you must understand about the will. Eccentric was his middle name.”

      “He wasn’t eccentric when I knew him. He was kind and gentle, comforting. A father figure who also happened to be my mother’s lawyer.”

      He saw genuine tenderness fill her eyes.

      “He helped me settle her estate. He’s the one who suggested I use the money she left me to buy this place. He helped me negotiate the sale, then came back to check on my renovations several times. But I hadn’t seen him since winter arrived.”

      “He didn’t like snow very much. He caught pneumonia before he died.”

      She glanced at him, chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then blurted out the duty phrase he’d heard so often.

      “I’m sorry. I would have gone to the funeral if I’d known. But with this place, and Drew to think of, I wasn’t paying much attention to the news.”

      “I understand.” Russ could see how tightly she controlled the words. She was definitely hiding something. His senses perked up.

      “Why me, do you think?” Annie faltered over that question as if she weren’t sure how he’d take it.

      “I haven’t figured that out yet,” he confessed, watching the swirl of conflicting emotions darken her eyes. Should he tell her? “My hunch is that, while he was ill, he dreamed the whole thing up.”

      “Was he ill a long time?” she whispered.

      “Several weeks. He couldn’t shake that cold.” Russ closed his eyes, thought it out. “My guess is he concocted one of his ideas, then purposely brought us together. He certainly knew I was doing studies on the area as a potential business site. In fact, he’s the one who originally pointed it out as a possible location, then told me not to bother. He knew very well how much I’d loved my time here as a child.”

      She blinked innocently, but Russ saw a shadow flicker through her eyes. Something about this whole thing bothered him. Annie Simmons didn’t seem nearly as flabbergasted by his proposal as he’d expected.

      “If I knew Gramps, and I did, he manipulated my whole situation for his personal convenience. He’d been after me to move closer to home for ages.” More flickers. Russ frowned.

      “Manipulated? He didn’t seem conniving to me. Just very kind.” She avoided his stare, studied her fingers.

      “Gramps was kind. He was also very big on marriage. Maybe because his own was so great.” He paused, then decided to tell the whole story. “He and my grandmother were married after her parents died. It was a marriage of convenience that provided a home for her baby sister and gave him the society wife he wanted. But they fell in love, and everything worked out for them. They had a great marriage, the envy of everyone who saw them together. I guess that’s why he thought it would work if he forced the two of us together.”

      If Russ closed his eyes, he could see his grandparents, hands clasped, eyes shining with a rich, deep joy he’d never known. Maybe if he could feel that kind of emotion, be so confident that nothing he did would disappoint, he would be more interested in the institution of marriage.

      But Russ was smart enough to know he was not his grandfather. Nor his father. When people depended on him, they were disillusioned. Invariably. He didn’t do it deliberately. Responsibility just didn’t work with him. Whether it stemmed from selfishness, or from years of being expected to follow in the family career path, he’d never managed to be the man they wanted, had never come close to stepping up to the plate and handling the responsibility they wanted to give him.

      “Now that you mention it, I do remember he once said he missed her presence more than anything else he’d ever known, that she’d gone from being a stranger to becoming a part of his heart. The way he talked about her—it was so sweet.”

      She drifted away on some memory Russ couldn’t share. Clearly Annie Simmons knew his grandfather well. But how—

      “So your grandfather named you as his heir?”

      Nodding, Russ steeled himself to face her. “One of them.”

      The next part would be touchy. There was no easy way to say it without sounding crass and greedy, but neither was he quite ready to divulge his true reasons behind this strange proposal.

      “His plan goes like this. We marry, and I collect my inheritance. I get my business on a solid footing, charm the tourists with my creations and start work on some bigger projects I’ve been itching to try, once I buy some more equipment. It’s actually quite simple.”

      Simple? It was a nightmare, one Russ would have avoided like the plague if he hadn’t allowed himself to be persuaded by the cajoling words in that letter Gramps had left behind. He’d only come here, asked her to do this, out of respect for the old man and because he wanted to see what Annie Simmons had that had bowled over his crusty old grandfather so much that he’d taken it upon himself to arrange a marriage.

      Gramps’s opinions on marriage were no secret to him. It made a man stronger, grounded him, gave him purpose and a helpmate to lean on when things got tough. He remembered their last conversation vividly. The right woman would help Russ realize his dreams. Well, Russ was realizing his dreams just fine—gaining increasing fame with his work, landing contracts, building a base of studio buyers.

      Gramps knew Russ had committed every dime he could spare to open that shop—and that wasn’t counting the loans he’d taken to move СКАЧАТЬ