“I will not be made to do anything I don't want to do!” Cedric Blackwood yelled, as he paced the room in an agitated manner, before stopping in front of his Aunt, who sat calmly on the couch, her countenance the very opposite of his. “This emotional blackmail will not work on me,”
“No one is blackmailing you emotionally,” Diana Mortimer told her nephew, but he didn't seem to hear her.
“That's exactly what this is,” continued Cedric, “Just another way for my father to piss me off. Even in his grave, he finds a way to torture me!”
“Torture? It is your birthright, Cedric!” said Diana, raising her voice for the first time since they started the conversation, “It is your duty. You were born to be the Duke of Springbrook, and —”
“No!” Cedric interrupted, turning away from her, “It was what my brother, Vincent was born to be, at least according to our father. It was his duty. Just because he's no longer here, doesn't mean I have to be in charge of his responsibility, and why should I? Our father refused to acknowledge me as his son. He abandoned me, Aunt Diana… He abandoned your sister, and the only reason he started to reach out to me was because he lost Vincent, his trophy son, whom he had named his heir instead of me. He only wanted me to be Duke because he didn't have any other son and he was worried that the title would pass on to another family.”
Slowly he turned back to face her, the pain and anger he was feeling made his eyes darker than their usual brown color, “You were there. You saw how hurt mother was…You know what his actions and his negligence turned her into, then why are you taking his side now?”
Diana stood up, so she was now standing in front of him. Calmly, she said, “I will never be on anyone's side but yours, Cedric, but you are your father's first son, and the fact that he and your mother divorced doesn't change that. If he had done what he was supposed to do, then you would have been made heir a long time ago. Now, I know that he might not have named you heir for the right reasons, but It doesn't mean that he was wrong. You and I know that no one is more fit to be Duke than you. You deserve the inheritance….,”
“I don't need it,” Cedric cut in.
“I know that,” Diana continued, “But it doesn't make it less true,” she held his face in her palm so he wouldn't look away, “Take what is yours, son, and be the man… The Duke… Your father never was,”
Cedric was silent for a while, and although he still didn't completely agree with his Aunt, he had to admit that she was kinda right, “I will think about it, Aunt Diana,” he said finally.
His Aunt smiled in relief, and Cedric wondered if he truly was ready for the responsibility of being the Duke of Springbrook…. If he decided to accept the inheritance. At first, he'd been furious when his father named his younger brother, Vincent heir over him, but then he'd been relieved. He could do whatever he wanted. Live however he wanted, and not worry about the responsibility of becoming the Duke of Springbrook one day, But now…Vincent was dead, and so was his father and so once again, the responsibility was his.
Was he up to it? Cedric had no idea, but first, he had to visit Haerton Castle… The castle that would soon be his home…. Or at least one of them.
___________
Anna Remington knew that what she was doing was wrong. She knew that she was trespassing, and she definitely was not supposed to be staring at the man coming boldly out of the lake he’d been swimming in only moments before, as if he didn’t much care if there was anyone around to see him or not.
Of course, given the fact that the lake was on the Haerton estate’s grounds and therefore private property, he probably wouldn’t expect there to be someone lurking in the undergrowth at the lake’s edge watching him. Then again, this was private property and, even though Haerton had been vacant for the past few months following the old owner’s death, it was clear that he was trespassing.
Not that it made her invasion of his privacy any less egregious, and not that she was technically any less a trespasser than he was, but still. She lived next door to the estate and had been walking the grounds for years, had played in the woods nearby as a child, had loved the overgrown, rambling nature of the estate ever since she could remember, and, even though it wasn’t actually her property, she viewed it as such.
She’d certainly never expected to come across someone swimming in the lake when she’d set out blackberry picking this morning, still less swimming naked. She should really do the right thing and move on. Visit the groundskeeper and tell him that there was a stranger in the lake. She really shouldn’t be standing here peering through the trees like some pervert in an anorak.
Yet she didn’t move.
Something held her rooted to the spot. Because the water was cascading over his naked body as he stepped from the lake, the late morning summer sun gilding his already golden skin, making an art form of every chiseled muscle. He was tall, with broad shoulders and lean hips. Long, powerfully muscled legs. His chest and stomach looked as if they’d been carved from marble as an example of the perfect masculine form, all hard planes and perfect hollows. His hair was black, slick as a seal’s, and as he walked slowly out of the water he lifted his hands and pushed it back from his forehead, biceps flexing with the movement.
Oh, wow… Anna's mouth went dry, an inexplicable heat creeping through her, making her cheeks burn. This was very wrong. It wasn’t the kind of thing she did at all. Maybe once, back when she’d been a teenager and much more prone to the vagaries of curiosity and her own wild passions, she wouldn’t have thought twice about it, but certainly not now. She was twenty-five, for God’s sake, and she’d put those days behind her.
