Page 11 of Vows We Never Made

I can’t even remember the last time I saw her.

Back when we were kids, she was my sister’s shadow, small and nervous and quiet.

Meek, really, totally not the type of woman that interests me.

We rarely spoke back then unless I wanted to mess with her like the bad-tempered punk I was. We definitely don’t now.

So why thefuckdoes Gramps want me to marry a girl I don’t know?

It would have made slightly more sense if the woman he’d specified was a mover and shaker in money. The daughter of a rival business, maybe.

Those sorts of arranged marriages still happen, though everyone pretends it’s for love for the sake of the press.

But Hattie?

Make it make sense.

If the old man wanted me married off, he could’ve had the decency to let me choose a wife.

Is this some twisted punishment?

That’s the only thing I can think of. Delayed judgment for what happened before, the way my life was held together by a thread in my grandfather’s bony fingers.

Hattie has nothing to do with me.

She never has, beyond being my sister’s friend. I can’t imagine she’ll want to change that when she remembers my attitude.

My gaze snaps back to Miss Wilkes. I heave out a sigh.

“Very well,” I say crisply. “Working under the assumption that my grandfather was mentally sound, there must be a reason. A method to his madness. An explanation.”

A hint of consternation enters Wilkes’ expression. It’s gone a second later, but it’s unnerving all the same.

“It’s not madness, Mr. Blackthorn,” she says.

“Then what would you call it? Me, married toHattie Sage?All to get my inheritance, which should be mine by default.”

Normally, my parents would’ve been next in line to control the company, but they don’t do business.

Plus, relations have been strained with them and Gramps for as long as I can remember. They showed zero interest in Blackthorn Holdings as long as the cash from Mom’s trust kept flowing.

Gramps always tried to involve me in the empire, but until recently, I balked.

Let them stay back in New York, fussing over how little he left them, while I’m over here trying to figure out what to do with aninheritance I never asked for and a marriage I don’t want just to get it.

“Marriage stipulations in wills aren’t as uncommon as you may think,” Miss Wilkes says. “Yours isn’t the first case I’ve handled.”

“And in all cases, it’s been upheld?”

“In Maine, yes. Almost all.”

“Almost?”

“Mr. Blackthorn.” She sighs. “There’s no precedent for the marriage clause to be overturned in this case. Must I keep repeating myself?”

She says that now, but I’m going to recruit an army of lawyers and pull this damn will apart piece by piece.

Then we’ll see if she sings a different tune.