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‘Wonderful life,’ scoffed Oliver, frowning. ‘When I visited, you were more like a father to me than Father ever was.’
‘Because you are my son.’ Albert turned his attention on Abigail. ‘Is it a boy?’
Abigail went bright crimson at the sudden question.
‘Is what a boy?’ asked Carys.
Albert shook his head. ‘You didn’t tell them – did you, about the baby?’
‘What baby?’ Oliver asked.
Abigail thought she was going to be sick. Three sets of eyes were staring at her keenly. She looked at Albert. There was no point trying to deny it. ‘Toby always believed he’d have a son.’ She said in a small voice, ‘Yes, I think I’m having a boy.’
‘You’re pregnant!’ exclaimed Oliver, stunned.
Abigail couldn’t look him in the eye.
Oliver suddenly got out of his seat. ‘So, this was what it was all about.’
Abigail admitted, ‘Yes, for my child, I wanted to find out where Toby came from.’
Carys stood up too. ‘Was this what you were after all along – to get your hands on the Hall?’
Abigail looked up sharply. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Oliver slapped his forehead. ‘How could I have been so stupid?’
Oliver watched his sister head for the door. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m going home.’
‘You can’t go back out in this storm,’ said Albert.
‘Just watch me!’ Carys threw back. She reached the door and looked at Oliver. ‘Are you coming?’
Abigail caught him frowning in her direction before he stormed out with his sister.
Abigail jumped at the sound of the front door slamming shut downstairs. A moment later she heard Oliver’s Land Rover skidding on the gravel as he drove at speed off the driveway.
Albert sighed. ‘I told you, Abigail, to let sleeping dogs lie.’
She caught Hugh staring at her. ‘I’m having a grandson?’
She nodded. ‘I think so.’ She cast a black look in Albert’s direction. She felt like having it out with him; why had he brought up the subject of her baby? She knew the truth would have had to come out some time. She’d imagined Oliver might have been upset at the news, but she hadn’t expected that reaction. She frowned at the thought of them both storming out. ‘What just happened?’
Albert turned to Hugh. ‘Why don’t you tell her. You’re the authority on primogeniture.’
‘Primogeniture,’ repeated Abigail. She shot out of her seat. ‘No, no, no. I promised. Whatever happened, the results stay between us. All of us. He can still inherit—’
Hugh was already shaking his head. ‘That’s not possible. You see, Toby – my son – should have inherited Somerville Hall. In the wake of his death, it will pass to his son, my grandson.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Abigail gaped at him. ‘He’s not born yet!’
‘That doesn’t matter. Even if I drop dead tomorrow, the Hall will pass to him. As his parent and legal guardian, you will manage his estate until he comes of age.’
‘But I don’t want it.’
‘You have no choice. And neither does your son.’
