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He sighed, and I sipped my bourbon quietly, waiting for his response. “You’re right. Something is bothering me,” he conceded with a sigh. “What if—what if I didn’t want to marry Pollyanna?”
My mouth dropped open. The shock of that statement was more profound than the astonishment of how my brother was behaving.
“Well, that’s entirely up to you,” I said, nearly stammering over my words.
“No, it’s not, and you know that.”
“Mother demands it, and your place in the family demands it,” I continued, “and I understand why you feel as though you have no choice, but you do.”
“That’s the thing,” he sat back, sipping his drink, “you behave as though our family name does not own us, but it does.”
“Only if you concern yourself with what the family name brings you. I don’t care if I’m cut off from my trust or whatever else they could do to threaten my security if I don’t follow the demands of the family, and that’s why I live a life of freedom and happiness. I carved my way in this world, and you can too.”
“That’s an amusing statement, given how our parents paid for your schooling, housing, and all the little toys you play with here.”
“That’s true,” I shrugged, “but that only happened because they demanded it. They also donated a fortune to my hospital because that’s what they do. Everything depends on the status quo, and you know that.”
“Yeah, but what you didn’t think of when they did all that was that they will eventually hang you on it one day. They own you, John; they just haven’t called in their debts yet.”
“And they won’t so long as you and Seb are paying them for me,” I winked, but that humor fell dead against the stone-faced expression my brother wore.
“Games are over. I can easily see our parents growing impatient with your life out here. If I decide not to marry this woman whom I do not love?—”
“Let me stop you right there,” I said, getting a little nervous about where this was headed with Mark’s suddenly cold feet. “I need to know why you’re frightened of this little—” I paused, searching for the proper term for my brother’s pending nuptials. “Well, let’s call it what it is. Your arranged marriage to Pollyanna.”
I watched as Mark tugged on his collar, most likely feeling his tie beginning to choke him.
“I can’t go through with this,” he said, and I understood.
“Then don’t.”
“You don’t understand. I will send Mother into an early grave if I don’t marry the heiress to the Melton fortune and unite our families.”
“Mother will get over it,” I assured him.
“She’s also made it clear to father that she intends to have you home within the next year,” Mark added, eyebrows raised.
I narrowed my eyes at him, “She can intend all she wants. I love our mother, but I won’t be in an arranged marriage like her other two sons. There’s no fucking way.”
“That’s the thing,” Mark said, shaking his head, obviously disturbed by this, “our parents are getting uneasy, and I guess I’m just buckling under the pressure.”
“Are they dealing with any financial losses anywhere?” I questioned, knowing that money always drove my family’s moods.
“I have no idea. Seb seems to be working great under our father’s iron fist, but I feel like I’m suffocating.”
“It’s the control and the demands,” I said. “You’re just feeling the pressure of having someone else dictate your life. It’s funny how people envy our lives, not knowing that they actually aren’t ours.”
“I just wish I could?—”
“Push out the date wedding,” I said. “Give yourself some time to step away from it all.”
“I tried that already, and Pollyanna nearly went into hysterics. She called our mother, and now, I’m not to speak another?—”
“Wait, what?” I questioned. “She did what?”
“She’s not the woman I thought I was marrying. It’s like a mask dropped when I told her I wanted to push the wedding date out to focus on work.”
I grinned, “Well, I can tell you that most women would become monsters if their fiancé started to get cold feet.”
