A Bride's Tangled Vows. Dani Wade
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the Blackstone legacy.â
He nodded toward the suit standing nearby. âJohn Cantonâmy lawyer.â
Aiden gave the manâs shifting stance a good once-over. Ah, the man behind the phone call. âHe must pay you well if youâre willing to lie about life and death.â
âHe merely indulged me under the circumstances,â James answered for Canton, displaying his usual unrepentant attitude. Whatever it takes to get the job done. The words James had repeated so often in Aidenâs presence replayed through his mind.
âYouâre needed at home, Aiden,â his grandfather said. âItâs your responsibility to be here, to take care of the family when I die.â
âAgain?â Aiden couldnât help saying.
Once more his grandfatherâs lips lifted in a weak semblance of the smirk Aiden remembered too well. âSooner than I like to think. Cantonââ
Aiden frowned as his grandfatherâs head eased back against the pillows, as if he simply didnât have the energy to keep up his diabolical power-monger role anymore.
âAs your grandfather told you, Iâm his lawyer,â Canton said as he reached out to shake Aidenâs hand, his grip forceful, perhaps overcompensating for his thin frame. âIâve been handling your grandfatherâs affairs for about five years now.â
âYou have my condolences,â Aiden said.
Canton paused, blinking behind his glasses at Aidenâs droll tone.
James lifted his head, irritation adding to the strain on his lined face. âThere are things that need to be taken care of, Aiden. Soon.â
His own anger rushed to replace numb curiosity. âYou mean, youâre going to arrange everything so it will continue just the way you want it.â
This time James managed to jerk forward in a shadow of his favorite stance: that of looming over the unsuspecting victim. âIâve run this family for over fifty years. I know whatâs best. Not some slacker who runs away at the first hint of responsibility. Your motherââ
He fell back with a gasp, shaking as his eyes closed.
âChristina,â Canton said, his sharp tone echoing in the room.
Christina crossed to the bed and checked Jamesâs pulse on the underside of his fragile wrist. Aiden noticed the tremble of her fingers with their blunt-cut nails. So she wasnât indifferent. Did she actually care for the old buzzard? Somehow he couldnât imagine it. Then she held Jamesâs head while he swallowed some more water. Her abundant hair swung forward to hide her features, but her movements were efficient and sure.
Despite wanting to remain unmoved, Aidenâs heart sped up. âYou should be in a hospital,â he said.
âThey couldnât make him stay once your grandfather refused further treatments. He said if he was going to die, he would die at Blackstone Manor,â Canton said. âChristina was already in residence and could follow the doctorâs orders....â
His grandfather breathed deeply, then rested back against the pillows, his mouth drawn, eyes closed.
âCan you?â Aiden asked her.
She glanced up, treating him to another glimpse of creamy, flawless skin and chocolate eyes flickering with worry.
âOf course,â she said, her tone matter-of-fact. âMr. Blackstone isnât going to die. But he will need significant recovery time. Iâd prefer him to stay in the hospital for a bit longer, but...â Her shrug said what can you do when a personâs crazy?
Something about her rubbed Aiden wrong. She didnât belong in this room or with these people. Her beauty and grace shouldnât be sullied by his grandfatherâs villainous legacy. But that calm, professional facade masked her feelings in this situation. Was she just here for the job? Or another reason? Once more, Aiden felt jealous of her, wishing he could master his own emotions so completely.
But he was out of practice in dealing with the old man.
This time, Christina retreated to the shadows beyond the abundant purple bed curtains. Close, but not hovering. Though keenly aware of her presence, Aiden could barely make out her form as she leaned against the wall with her arms wrapped around her waist. It unsettled him, distracted him. Right now, he needed all his focus on the battle he sensed was coming.
âYour grandfather is concerned for the millââ Canton said.
âI donât give a damn what happens to that place. Tear it down. Burn it, for all I care.â
His grandfatherâs jaw tightened, but he made no attempt to defend the business where heâd poured what little humanity he possessed, completely ignoring the needs of his family. The emotional needs, at least.
âAnd the town?â Canton asked. âYou donât care what happens to the people working in Blackstone Mills? Generations of townspeople, your motherâs friends, kids you went to school with, Marieâs nieces and nephews?â
Aiden clamped his jaw tight. He didnât want to get involved, but as the lawyer spoke, faces flashed through his mindâs eye. The mill had stood for centuries, starting out as a simple cotton gin. Last Aiden had heard, it was a leading manufacturer in cotton products, specializing in high-end linens. James might be a bastard, but his insistence on quality had kept the company viable in a shaky economy. Aiden jammed a rough hand through his damp hair, probably making the spiky top stand on end.
Without warning, he felt a familiar surge of rebellion. âI donât want to take over. Iâve never wanted to.â He strode across the plush carpet to stare out the window into the storm-shadowed distance. Tension tightened the muscles along the back of his neck and skull. Familial responsibility wasnât his thingâanymore. Heâd handed that job over to his brothers a long time ago.
Aiden realized he was shifting minutely from one foot to the other. Creeping in underneath the turbulence was a constant awareness of Christinaâs presence, like a sizzle under his skin, loosening his control over his other emotions inch by inch. She drew him, kept part of his attention even when he was talking to the others. How had she come to be here? How long had she been here? Had she ever found a place to belong? The heightened emotion increased the tension in his neck. A dull headache started to form.
âYou knew something like this was coming, considering your ageââ Aiden gestured back toward the bed ââyou should have sold. Or turned the business over to someone else. One of my brothers.â
âIt isnât their duty,â James insisted. âAs firstborn, itâs yoursâand way past time you learned your place.â
As if he could sense the rage starting to boil deep inside Aiden, Canton stepped in. âMr. Blackstone wants the mill to remain a family institution that will continue to provide jobs and a center for the town. The only potential buyers we have want to tear it down and sell off the land.â
Aiden latched on to the family institution part. âAh, the lasting name of Blackstone. Planned a monument yet?â
A weary yet insistent voice drifted from the bed. âI will do what needs to be done. And so will you.â
âHow will you manage that? I walked out that door once. Iâm more than happy to do it again.â
âReally? Do you think thatâs the best thing for your mother?â James went on as if Aiden hadnât spoken. âIâve worked my entire life to build on the hard work of my own father. I will not let my lifeâs work disappear because you wonât