Read Online Sweet as the Devil by Susan Johnson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Susan Johnson
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he’ll consider it, but we’ll deal with him later. I’m about to meet my daughter.”
“A daughter? You knew?” Jamie’s voice held mild surprise and at the last a flatness.
“I heard about her birth shortly after my marriage to Marie. I attempted to write and send funds, but my letters and bank drafts were returned. I was distrait of course, angry, too, and resentful. Then life intervened, and I’m ashamed to say I eventually forgot.” He blew out a small breath. “I don’t have to tell you how irresponsible I am.”
Jamie politely refrained from responding. “What if this long-lost daughter isn’t interested in becoming your heir?” he asked instead. “What if she has a perfectly agreeable life? What if her mother taught her to hate you?”
“You know as well as I do that a princely title and a vast fortune will likely change anyone’s mind,” Ernst replied with assurance of considerable experience. “Or if she proves difficult, you can help me persuade her.”
Jamie put up his hands. “Acquit me. You’re her father.” “I could insist.”
“You could try.”
Ernst laughed. “You’re as stubborn as your hardheaded father.”
“I guard you. I’m not your keeper.”
“Sometimes you are.” Jamie was his voice of reason on occasion.
“Not in this.”
“Very well, be obstinate,” Ernst said with another of those surprising smiles Jamie was seeing frequently. “But consider, you’ll be guarding me when I speak to her.”
“No. I’ll be outside the room.”
Ernst grinned. “Sometimes I don’t think you know your place.”
“Most times. Remember, I don’t need this job.”
“As you often tell me, you impertinent cub. Come, we’ll have another drink and I’ll explain what the detectives know about my wife and daughter.” He was beaming as he reached for the bottle. “As you can see, just thinking about my daughter puts me in an extremely good mood.”
“I’m pleased for you,” Jamie said with genuine affection. “Not that anyone can ever replace Rupert, but I admit, there’s joy in fucking over Von Welden.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Ernst refilled their glasses.
In the course of the next hour Jamie heard the entire story of Ernst’s early love affair and marriage, the current state of the search for Amelia and her daughter, and the prince’s intentions to disclose to his daughter that she was heiress to the duchy of Dalmia.
As Ernst finished his explanation, the clock chimed as if on cue, and looking up, he said, “Christ, I’m late for dinner with Rutledge. We’ll talk again in the morning. Say, eleven?”
Having gone without sleep since yesterday, Jamie readily agreed.
CHAPTER 7
E RNST’S GOOD CHEER was obvious when Jamie was shown into his study at eleven. An aberrant state with which Jamie was becoming familiar.
“Good news, I gather.”
“Yes, yes, the best. Sit. I’ll have Sims get you coffee.” Walking over to the bellpull, he gave it a tug. “I’ve had too much already as you can no doubt see,” he said, waving Jamie to a chair with an expansive gesture. “But the reports are excellent.”
“In what way?” Jamie dropped into a sprawl in a club chair and contemplated Ernst as he nervously paced.
“They unearthed more information on Amelia. She’s lived with an artist for years. They aren’t married—which suggests, perhaps, she never divorced me. It could be lack of funds, although that’s neither here nor there,” Ernst added with a flick of his fingers as he swung back from his desk. “The point is—there’s no question that my daughter is legitimate.”
“Your men made contact with Amelia?”
“No, she’s in the country somewhere, but a neighbor was talkative. Apparently, Amelia’s an artist of some note—as is my daughter, Sofia, who, according to the neighbor, is quite a beauty.”
Jamie slid upright in his chair, a sudden attentiveness in his gaze. “Your daughter doesn’t use your surname, does
“A daughter? You knew?” Jamie’s voice held mild surprise and at the last a flatness.
“I heard about her birth shortly after my marriage to Marie. I attempted to write and send funds, but my letters and bank drafts were returned. I was distrait of course, angry, too, and resentful. Then life intervened, and I’m ashamed to say I eventually forgot.” He blew out a small breath. “I don’t have to tell you how irresponsible I am.”
Jamie politely refrained from responding. “What if this long-lost daughter isn’t interested in becoming your heir?” he asked instead. “What if she has a perfectly agreeable life? What if her mother taught her to hate you?”
“You know as well as I do that a princely title and a vast fortune will likely change anyone’s mind,” Ernst replied with assurance of considerable experience. “Or if she proves difficult, you can help me persuade her.”
Jamie put up his hands. “Acquit me. You’re her father.” “I could insist.”
“You could try.”
Ernst laughed. “You’re as stubborn as your hardheaded father.”
“I guard you. I’m not your keeper.”
“Sometimes you are.” Jamie was his voice of reason on occasion.
“Not in this.”
“Very well, be obstinate,” Ernst said with another of those surprising smiles Jamie was seeing frequently. “But consider, you’ll be guarding me when I speak to her.”
“No. I’ll be outside the room.”
Ernst grinned. “Sometimes I don’t think you know your place.”
“Most times. Remember, I don’t need this job.”
“As you often tell me, you impertinent cub. Come, we’ll have another drink and I’ll explain what the detectives know about my wife and daughter.” He was beaming as he reached for the bottle. “As you can see, just thinking about my daughter puts me in an extremely good mood.”
“I’m pleased for you,” Jamie said with genuine affection. “Not that anyone can ever replace Rupert, but I admit, there’s joy in fucking over Von Welden.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Ernst refilled their glasses.
In the course of the next hour Jamie heard the entire story of Ernst’s early love affair and marriage, the current state of the search for Amelia and her daughter, and the prince’s intentions to disclose to his daughter that she was heiress to the duchy of Dalmia.
As Ernst finished his explanation, the clock chimed as if on cue, and looking up, he said, “Christ, I’m late for dinner with Rutledge. We’ll talk again in the morning. Say, eleven?”
Having gone without sleep since yesterday, Jamie readily agreed.
CHAPTER 7
E RNST’S GOOD CHEER was obvious when Jamie was shown into his study at eleven. An aberrant state with which Jamie was becoming familiar.
“Good news, I gather.”
“Yes, yes, the best. Sit. I’ll have Sims get you coffee.” Walking over to the bellpull, he gave it a tug. “I’ve had too much already as you can no doubt see,” he said, waving Jamie to a chair with an expansive gesture. “But the reports are excellent.”
“In what way?” Jamie dropped into a sprawl in a club chair and contemplated Ernst as he nervously paced.
“They unearthed more information on Amelia. She’s lived with an artist for years. They aren’t married—which suggests, perhaps, she never divorced me. It could be lack of funds, although that’s neither here nor there,” Ernst added with a flick of his fingers as he swung back from his desk. “The point is—there’s no question that my daughter is legitimate.”
“Your men made contact with Amelia?”
“No, she’s in the country somewhere, but a neighbor was talkative. Apparently, Amelia’s an artist of some note—as is my daughter, Sofia, who, according to the neighbor, is quite a beauty.”
Jamie slid upright in his chair, a sudden attentiveness in his gaze. “Your daughter doesn’t use your surname, does
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