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‘Because I told you, at least twenty times, to play away from the house, and you insisted on playing outside my study window,’ Troyden retorted.

He looked at his daughter. ‘And I don’t know why you are smirking, Michaela.

If I recall, you carved your initials into the leg of the fake Chippendale desk in your bedroom. ’

Mick’s smile quickly faded and she sighed. ‘If it makes you feel any better, Liam fingerpainted his bedroom walls the day before yesterday, and Gemma broke the clasp of my Elsa Schiaparelli necklace while playing dress up.’

‘I’m so glad you are raising yourself,’ Troyden told her, chuckling.

Al checked his watch. ‘Can we have lunch now, please? I’ve got a riveting report to read.’

Jed shook his head. ‘Dude, no report can ever be called riveting,’ he insisted. He looked at Justin. ‘He was the best you could do? Seriously?’

Justin shrugged. ‘He’s super sexy,’ he said, a tad dreamy. ‘When he’s naked, wearing just his black-rimmed specs, when he looks at me like I’m?—’

Jed rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Jesus, enough .’ He placed his hand on her back, and Eden sighed as the heat of his palm radiated through her.

She understood what Justin meant. When Jed looked at her in a certain way, when every atom of his being was focused on her, she would do anything he asked.

She would move mountains and corral lightning if he asked her to…

She looked up at him and saw his eyes locked on her face.

She’d never understood the term ‘smouldered’ before, but right now she felt singed as tiny flames danced over her skin.

It took everything she had not to slap her hand on his chest, push him back to the opposite wall and climb him like a ladder.

But there was a small pile of worked iron they’d have to negotiate, shoulder plates and arm braces they’d have to step over. With her luck, they’d both end up on the floor, beaten up by a fake suit of armour.

She needed some perspective, something else to think about, to pull herself back to normal. She was behaving like a hormonal teenager who squealed when her crush so much as noticed her. Pathetic. She needed to be sensible and rational, for God’s sake.

So she pulled in a deep breath and stepped away from temptation and returned to what they’d been talking about before.

The very sensible and rational topic of sharing their house with a ghost. ‘You guys don’t believe in ghosts, do you?

You were joking when you said you saw Elspeth, right? ’ she asked.

Jed’s smile slowly grew, and his expression turned to amusement. Yay, he was about to tell her that he’d been joking earlier, that Elspeth was Gemma’s imaginary friend, that he’d been taking the piss.

‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, three or four years, but yeah, she’s around doing whatever ghosts that haunt old houses do,’ he easily replied.

Oh…

Right. That wasn’t the answer she expected.

* * *

‘I saw Henry on my coffee run this morning, Jed,’ Mick said, making her way through her second helping of chicken pie.

‘He said to remind you about that beer. Why does he keep asking you, and why do you keep refusing him? You two are like an estranged couple trying to decide whether to get back together or not.’

She wasn’t far off. Jed placed his fork on his plate and rubbed his forehead. He was so very tired of lying to them. Troyden sat at the head of the table, concern on his face.

Mick being Mick wouldn’t leave the subject alone. ‘What does he want from you?’

‘Everything.’

He felt the tension rise, and cursed when he realised he’d said that word out loud. ‘Jed… what does that mean?’ Justin asked. He looked at their confused faces, all waiting for him to explain the secret growing heavier with every passing day.

‘Just put it down, Jed,’ Troyden quietly said. How did his father always know what he was thinking? ‘It’s time to put it down.’

Jed shifted uncomfortably, before meeting their eyes one by one. Here goes nothing. His stomach tightened, and he wondered if his just-swallowed lunch would make its way back up. Then he felt Eden’s hand on his knee, and his heart rate settled down to a wild gallop.

‘I should’ve told you this years ago,’ he began, his voice low but steady. ‘But I didn’t. I kept it from you, and for that, I’m sorry.’

Mick frowned. ‘Kept what from us, Jed?’ she asked, her voice sharp with the unmistakable trace of hurt.

He exhaled, clenching his jaw. ‘Henry is my half-brother. We’re both the Duke’s sons. He’s legitimate; I’m not.’

The words were out, and Jed couldn’t take them back. The silence that followed felt like an eternity. His siblings looked at him, their faces a mixture of shock, confusion and disbelief.

Al shook his head, knife clattering onto the table as Mick quietly told her children to go and watch TV. ‘Wait. You’re saying Henry, the Duke ’s son, is your brother?’ Al let out a short laugh, but there was no humour in it. ‘That’s a hell of a thing to keep to yourself.’

‘I know,’ Jed said, his voice rough. ‘I should’ve told you a long time ago. But every time I thought about it, I convinced myself it wasn’t the right time.’

Mick crossed her arms, tears in her eyes. Mick never cried. ‘Why are you telling us this now? Would you have told us if he hadn’t come back?’

No, probably not. He winced at the bite in her tone. Her anger was justified. They all had a right to know. ‘Why did you keep a secret, Jed? Who were you trying to protect?’ Justin asked.

Shit, that was a hell of a question. Not Henry, or the Duke. When nobody moved, when their eyes didn’t drop from his face, he knew he’d have to answer. He owed them that. ‘I was trying to protect me .’ He pushed his hand through his hair and released a ragged sigh.

‘From whom?’ Mick demanded.

‘I’ve spent my whole life wondering if I was even worth being part of this family. I didn’t want you to look at me differently. I didn’t want you to see me as… as some kind of mistake.’

Troyden, who had been unusually quiet up until now, finally spoke, his voice soft but firm. ‘Jed, you’re not a mistake. Never that.’

Jed looked at him, his throat tightening.

He could feel the emotions bubbling up inside him, raw and unfiltered.

God, this was hard. And awful. ‘You’ve always treated me like one of your own, but it never felt real.

Not all the way. Ifelt– feel– like I constantly had to bring something to the party to belong to this family.

Even as a little kid, I needed to be needed. Sometimes I still feel like that.’

‘We do need you, Jed! You’re our brother. End of!’ Mick yelled, properly upset.

‘Of course, we need you. You’re the family rock.’ Al added. ‘But did you really think we wouldn’t accept you because the Duke didn’t? That we’d see you as something less?’

He couldn’t talk anymore, explain. He was done. He’d said more than he’d expected to, more than he’d wanted to. It was too much.

Mick softened slightly, uncrossing her arms. ‘Jed, family, especially this family, isn’t about titles or bloodlines.

It’s about who’s there for you, who’s got your back when it matters.

You’ve always had our back. But I think you’ve forgotten, or never knew, that it’s a two-way street.

You need us to need you, but we need you to need us too. ’

Al leaned forward, his voice gentle, but his eyes still sharp. ‘And let me be very clear, Jed, I don’t give a flying fuck who your real father is or isn’t. You’re my brother, a part of this family. Always have been. Always will be.’

Jed felt a lump form in his throat as he took a shaky breath. ‘Okay.’

Troyden stood up, moved toward Jed, and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Our love isn’t conditional, Jedson. It never has been.’

Jed nodded, patted his hand and pushed back his chair.

He needed to leave. His emotions were too big, the relief too great.

He couldn’t fall apart. He was the protector, the strong one, the one who stood between them and the world.

He couldn’t break down. He couldn’t let them see him crumble.

Habits, after all, couldn’t be broken by one conversation. ‘I need to get going. I?—’

Mick stood up, leaned across the table and punched his arm. Because he’d taught her how to punch, it held a reasonable force. ‘You’re a moron. And for what it’s worth, a huge pain in the arse. You always have been, so nothing’s changed.’

Jed let out a low chuckle, his shoulders dropping fractionally.

Alistair stood up and Jed moved back, in case he punched him too. His brother was a lot bigger than him and might put him on his arse. ‘For once, I agree with Mick. You are a moron. But you’re our moron.’

‘Yeah, got it,’ Jed said. Look, it would take time until he felt like he was, intrinsically , a part of the Castle clan. But a weight had been lifted, some of his decades-old fears calmed.

It had only taken twenty-five years. But better than never, he supposed. Now he just needed to decide what to do about Henry.

* * *

Eden knew enough about Jed to know that he needed time to himself, but not too much time, because then he would start overthinking and brooding.

There were only two places he’d go when he was upset, his workshop or the stables.

His workshop was on the way to the stables, so she poked her head inside the long building– images of how well he’d loved her earlier on that bench flashing behind her eyes and heating her core– but the place was empty, the machines asleep.