smile. As if there was such a thing in a woeful situation like this one.
He pitied that baby, being born into the Bryce family, with its legacy of screw-ups, scandals and sadness. What chance did it have?
Or perhaps he or she would be luckier than the rest of them. After all, this baby wouldn’t have to grow up in Lengroth Castle, surrounded by reminders of the expectations the world placed upon it and knowing that if he or she didn’t want to meet them, they’d have to learn how to hide the truth.
And, most of all, this baby would have Heather Reid, which was more than Ross’s other two kids had. They were stuck with Uncle Cal, screwing them up for the rest of their childhoods.
Cal knew what Ross had been thinking when he’d named him as guardian—he’d been assuming it would never be needed. And who else was there, really? Who else would be able to understand the legacy of the Bryce family well enough to try and fix things for them all—or at least hide the truth a little longer?
Heather Reid wouldn’t understand that, he’d bet. She was probably an honest, good girl, out of her depth in the pool of Lengroth scandals.
Of course, he could be overestimating her. Because, really, who travelled all the way from London to the wilds of Scotland just to ‘do the right thing’? Nobody in Cal’s family, that was for certain.
He wasn’t sure any of his ancestors or relatives would even know what the right thing was, if it came calling. Not even Ross.
So, as trustworthy as Heather seemed, Cal knew better than to take those wide, innocent eyes at face value.
‘Did you hope he’d support you financially?’ he asked. That had to be it, right? Ross had told her he lived in a damn castle—of course she was after money. ‘Or buy you off, so he didn’t have to tell Janey?’
The worst part was that was probably exactly what Ross would have done. What Bryce men had been doing for generations to cover up their misdemeanours and betrayals. Hiding their scandals away under a blanket of hush money.
It was just that Cal had been so sure that Ross was different. And that if Ross could be different maybe he could, too. Maybe the scandal gene had skipped a generation, or something.
But here it was, fresh and revitalised for a whole new era of Bryces, ready to bring the Earldom of Lengroth into disrepute once and for all. Hiding bad behaviour had been a lot easier before the advent of social media.
Across the desk, he saw Heather’s eyes had widened with shock. ‘I didn’t... No. Like I said—I have a job of my own. Supply teaching might not pay brilliantly, but I like working with the kids and it’ll pay enough to support me and this baby, just. So, no, I wasn’t expecting money. As I told you—if anything, I was expecting him to throw me out.’
‘But you came anyway?’
‘But I came anyway.’
Cal eyed her across the desk. She seemed genuine. Sincere. But then, people always did—until they screwed you over.
Then his gaze landed on the duck again. ‘I have to ask...’ He gestured towards it.
Spots of pink appeared on Heather’s cheeks. ‘Oh! It sort of...appeared in the moat as I was approaching the door. It seemed wrong to leave it there so I brought it in with me.’
Daisy, Cal was willing to bet. After tossing a bucket of water out of that nursery window a rubber duck was nothing. Practically a step down, in fact.
Cal thought wistfully of the time when he’d honestly believed that his niece and nephew were delightful, well-behaved children. When he’d lived thousands of miles away and only seen them for an afternoon at a time.
‘How do you imagine the duck got there?’ he asked Heather. ‘In the moat, I mean?’ An idea was starting to form somewhere in the back of his brain. It was entirely possible that it was a terrible idea, but it wasn’t as if he had any better ones to go with. Especially since it seemed that the latest nanny from the agency hadn’t even made it as far as the castle gates.
‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly say.’
There was a wry smile on Heather’s face that told Cal everything he needed to know. Firstly, that she knew exactly who must be responsible for the duck, but wasn’t going to drop the kids in it. And, secondly, that Heather Reid was an open book, with her every thought and feeling shown on her face for him to read—as long as he could see it.
It was the second of those two facts that convinced him to follow the hare-brained plan that had evolved in his mind. After all, if he could see Heather’s face he’d know when she was about to do something stupid. Like sell her story about her night with the Earl to the local papers. Or try to blackmail him for financial support. Or whatever.
And maybe, just maybe, what Daisy and Ryan really needed was someone on their side—the way Cal had always had Ross. And Cal had a feeling that Heather could be that person.
If she said yes.
Well, he’d never know if he didn’t ask.
‘So. You’re pregnant with my niece or nephew. I am guardian to your baby’s half-brother and half-sister. Clearly whatever happens next we’re all in each other’s lives now.’
Heather frowned. ‘I... I suppose.’
Her lack of enthusiasm was, Cal supposed, understandable. He wouldn’t want to be a part of this family either if he hadn’t been born into it. Even then, actually. But he didn’t have any choice. All he could do now was try and make growing up as a Bryce less awful for Daisy and Ryan than it had been for him and Ross. And he sure as hell couldn’t do that on his own.
He took a breath and tried to smile as he said, ‘In which case I have a proposition for you. If you’ll hear it?’
He had no idea what to do next if she wouldn’t.
* * *
A proposition? Heather remembered all too well what had happened last time a guy with the surname Bryce had propositioned her. But Cal didn’t seem like the sort.
She’d come all this way. The least she could do was hear him out. After all, it wasn’t as if she had any clear idea of her path forward. All she knew was that she needed to figure out a way to handle her situation without bringing scandal and shame down on her father. Again. He’d had enough of that for one lifetime, and last time... Well, the bottom line was she couldn’t risk that happening again.
She needed to manage this carefully. Maybe Cal could help her do that.
‘I’m listening,’ she said neutrally, watching his expression.
Cal leaned forward in his chair, folded his hands on the desk next to the rubber duck and gazed straight into her eyes. ‘I want you to stay here for the summer as nanny to Daisy and Ryan—Ross’s children.’
Heather blinked. ‘What?’ She might have been less surprised if he’d suggested he ravish her over the desk, or that they set up a rubber duck factory together. ‘I’m... I’m not a nanny.’
‘No, you’re a teacher. Which means you know kids
