Page 17

Chapter Seven

T hey reached Henry’s car and Jed scowled. Why the hell was he here?

Henry smirked. ‘I heard Troyden had a pretty guest and I wanted to see for myself.’

Jed clenched his fists. Bythesea ran on gossip, but Eden had only arrived last night. Even for professionals, it was too soon for the village grapevine to swing into action. No, Eden wasn’t why Henry was here.

‘Who is she? And is she single?’ Henry pushed. ‘Are you interested?’

Jed’s jaw tightened. ‘Would it stop you?’

Henry laughed. ‘Of course not. It’d just make it more fun.’ This was classic Henry: poking, pushing, needling like he had since they were kids.

Now, after a fifteen-year break, he was picking up right where he’d left off.

Arsehole.

But an observant one. He’d clocked Jed’s reaction to Eden and noticed the way Jed had bristled when Henry’s gaze had lingered on her legs, her chest, her face.

Jed shoved his clenched fists into the back pockets of his jeans.

You’re not ten or sixteen. You can’t punch him.

But damn, he wanted to . Mostly because he didn’t feel as indifferent as he wanted to be.

A part of him, tiny but annoying, kept looking for similarities, a connection.

And he hated that. His family, the one he’d worked so hard to be a part of, was solid.

It was also complete. There wasn’t any room for half-brothers or new people– Eden included– making waves.

Henry rocked back on his heels, arms crossed. His expression shifted, unreadable. ‘You didn’t come to the funeral,’ he commented, his tone bland.

Henry had noticed his absence. Why? ‘Why would I?’

‘He was your father.’

‘Bullshit. The Duke and I had no relationship. Eighteen cheques a year didn’t make him a father.’

‘Fair point.’ Henry exhaled. ‘Yeah, he was a bastard. A deeply unlikeable man.’

Well… shit . Those weren’t words he’d ever expected the Baby Duke to utter. ‘I still don’t know why you’re here.’

Henry hesitated. ‘I’ve moved back to Bythesea Hall.’

Marvellous . ‘So?’

‘I’ll be around. At the pub, in the village.’ He hesitated a beat. ‘I thought we could have a beer sometime, maybe get to know each other.’

Jed blinked as the words settled and burned. ‘Where the hell did that come from?’

‘I’ve thought about it for a long time.’ Henry ran a hand through his hair. ‘I considered approaching you a couple of years ago, but the Duke would’ve lost his shit. Now that he’s dead, what does it matter?’

Oh, so now it was convenient? Now he wanted to play at being brothers?

Jed’s eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Let’s recap, dickhead.

I punched you when we were ten because you were a smug little knob.

You ran crying to Daddy. The rest of the summer, and the summers after that, you and your posh friends made my life hell.

Three years later, you showed up at my not-that-fancy boarding school instead of Eton.

You spent the next few years undermining me at every turn.

And now you think we’re going to grab a pint and bond? ’

Henry winced. ‘Look, I admit I was a shit?—’

‘Damn right.’ Jed cut him off. ‘To be clear, I have a family. Two brothers, a sister, and a father. I don’t need an entitled arse like you in my life.’

To his credit, though Jed loathed to give him any, Henry didn’t flinch. He just nodded, his face unreadable.

Jed turned to leave, then stopped. ‘And if you so much as hint that I’m the Duke’s son to anybody, I’ll kick your balls so far up your body you’ll taste them.’

Now that was a solid exit line.

The fuck he was going to let Henry into his life.

* * *

Thinking back to that conversation earlier, Jed pushed down on his stirrups, lifted his butt out of the saddle and swung his mallet at the ball.

There was nothing more satisfying than the thwack of a stick connecting.

It scooted across the empty field, and Padmé, one of his less experienced beasts– and one of the most excitable– tensed, and he leaned forward to pat her neck.

After a long time away from the polo field, he needed to get all the horses, his players and himself, back into the rhythm of the game.

The practice match had been a good start but they all needed more work.

Standing in his saddle, Jed turned to look over the rest of the huge field and saw Mateo and Kit, and their fourth member, Kimba, putting their horses through the same routine.

Thwack, chase, tap chase, all practising back swings, near side swings, tail shots and offside swings.

He turned back to make a series of taps with the ball, half-standing in the saddle. He was fighting to keep Padmé at a steady canter, as she was keen to storm across the field like her tail was on fire.

Jed missed the ball, cursed a blue streak and turned Padmé to canter back in position. He never missed and was annoyed by the small slip-up.

And because his teammates were bastards, they noticed. ‘We saw that,’ Kit yelled. Jed raised his middle finger, put his back to them and took his frustration out on the ball, sending it rolling to the far end of the field.

Jed sighed, thinking that he’d run out of energy to chase it.

But because he was a professional, he kicked his heels into Padmé’s side and galloped down the field, turning his head to look at the stables.

He saw the flash of red-gold hair, and long legs emerging from a pair of ragged denim shorts. Eden.

Troyden’s niece .

He slumped in his seat and allowed Padmé to slow down, slowly transitioning from a canter to a trot, then to a walk. He was sweaty, horsey, pissed off and exhausted. He pushed his helmet back and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist.

How the hell was he supposed to work with all these distractions? Henry, Eden, what else was life going to throw at him today?

He’d never expected Henry to stroll into his life and suggest whatever the hell he’d suggested, just like he’d never expected to see Eden again.

He especially hadn’t anticipated his reaction to Eden would be more intense than before, and that every time he laid eyes on her his heart would become a loud bass drum in his ears, his blood would turn warm in his veins, his IQ would drop and his skin would prickle.

The last rational part of him suggested that he owed her an apology for assuming she was Troyden’s newest girlfriend. But because he was pissed off, tired, feeling emotionally battered and nowhere near able to be bloody rational about anything, he pushed the annoying thought away.

He watched her hips sway as she walked, the way her hair went from gold to red to rust, deepening as the sun’s rays hit it.

He slumped in the saddle knowing that he needed to get a handle on his attraction.

He rarely, if ever, gave a woman this much mental energy.

Yes, she was gorgeous, and yes, he wanted to take her to bed but…

But something about her niggled at him– he was damn sure she was hiding something.

The way she dropped into Troyden’s life, and his, was suspicious. Not five-alarm fire suspicious, but enough to make him feel uneasy. And her not wanting to give him her CV? Red flag.

Realistically, everyone had something to hide; nobody showed the world all their cards.

He certainly didn’t. So why was he having such a hard time accepting she had secrets, facets of her personality he wasn’t privy to?

And why was he so incredibly… what was the word… ? Fascinated? Aware? A little obsessed?

He didn’t recognise himself. And he sure as hell didn’t like it.

* * *

A week and a bit later, after breakfast, Eden walked out of the kitchen into the courtyard to find Troyden in the centre of his pack of unruly mutts, having his face licked by various canines of mixed parentage. He looked up at her and grinned.

‘I’m taking them on a long walk, do you want to join me?’

She’d joined Troyden for a walk the day before yesterday and her body still ached from the three-hour ‘stroll’.

Admittedly, it had been lovely to spend concentrated time with her uncle, delving into the history on her father’s side.

Luckily, because she’d spent most of the three hours panting because of the fast pace he set, she’d waved any personal questions away or gave one-word answers.

Troyden, because he was a true gent, didn’t push her to talk about herself.

‘I’m going to pass, thanks,’ she told him, smiling when a grey and brown lurcher mix pushed his long snout into her hand. She stroked his wiry head. ‘But I’ll walk with you as far as the polo fields, if that’s okay.’

Troyden lightly touched her shoulder. ‘Spending time with you is always okay, Eden.’

Troyden seemed genuinely happy to have her here, living at Elmsleigh.

Since she arrived, they’d fallen into an easy companionship, sharing meals and opinions, comfortable in their occasional silences.

For the first time, she felt truly at home.

Over the last week or so, she’d explored the area with Troyden, accompanied him to London twice, and spent a few mornings curled up in the window seat of his study while he worked.

Troyden had Alistair– huge and not much of a conversationalist– and lovely Justin over to dinner one night, and a few days later, Mick and her kids had joined them. While she’d seen him in the distance, she hadn’t run into Jed.

That was fine with Eden. She was here to get to know her uncle, not be distracted by a sexy, incredibly annoying polo player. But it was time for her to go travelling, to move on.

She fell into step with Troyden, the dogs scattering. ‘You looked suddenly sombre,’ Troyden commented, adjusting the cap on his head. Today he wore chino shorts, expensive hiking boots and a Jimi Hendrix t-shirt.

It was time to have an uncomfortable conversation. ‘I’ve had a lovely time here, but?—’

Troyden stopped abruptly to stare at her. ‘You’re not leaving?’ he asked, horrified.