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So that was how Kenny had earned his father’s approval. By winning golf tournaments.
While she was pondering the fact that child abuse came in many forms, the cell phone rang. Kenny answered, gave her a puzzled look, then handed it over. “Some guy who says he’s a duke.”
Emma set down the cheese and crackers she hadn’t gotten around to eating before she pressed the phone to her ear. “Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
“It’s not afternoon here, my dear,” that unpleasantly familiar voice responded. “It’s late, and I should be in bed, but I’ve been too worried about you to sleep. Where have you been? I was told you didn’t return to your hotel last night.”
So, his watchdogs were in place. “Last night?”
“I know you were there, of course—where else could you have been?—but I wish you would have called.”
“But—”
“Why did you check out of the hotel? I thought you were going to stay in Dallas.”
She found it unsettling that he didn’t even consider that she might have been out carousing all night. It occurred to her that he had an unfortunate habit of believing what he wanted to believe.
“Kenny and I are on our way to Wynette. It’s his hometown. As for last night—”
“Wynette? That sounds familiar. Why on earth are you going there?”
“Kenny has some personal business to take care of. I said I’d accompany him.”
“I see. And where will you be staying?”
She’d planned to stay at a hotel, but now she realized she couldn’t afford that type of conservative behavior. “I’ll be staying at Kenny’s ranch, of course.”
Kenny swerved.
She clutched the dashboard as Hugh began to sputter. “Impossible! He’s an unmarried man, and you can’t stay there by yourself.”
“I’m so sorry to upset you, but it’s necessary to my research. It’s very important for me to . . . fully experience the Wild West.” There! she thought. Let him make what he would out of that.
“I’m gonna give you some Wild West,” Kenny muttered.
She slipped her hand over the mouthpiece and shushed him.
“Emma, my dear, apparently it hasn’t occurred to you that you’re being a bit careless in your behavior. Even in a foreign country, you need to be more circumspect.”
She drummed her fingers on her lap as he began to lecture her about propriety, his family name, and her reputation.
“You’re staying in a hotel,” Kenny said when she was finally able to hang up. “Not at my ranch. Now suppose you tell me who that was and what he wanted.”
Even though he’d just shared some painful details of his private life, she wasn’t anxious to do the same. “It was Hugh Holroyd, Duke of Beddington. He owns St. Gert’s. Do you think you could slow down a bit?”
“How did he get my cell phone number?”
“I have no idea. He’s quite an influential man, and he has a way of unearthing things. Look! More wildflowers!”
“I think it’s time you tell me exactly what’s going on here.” He spoke in those deadly, humorless tones she was growing to dread.
“Pardon?”
“I’m starting to get a funny feeling right behind my knees. It’s the same feeling I sometimes get just before I miss a four-footer.”
Without warning, he angled the car off the road into a small graveled area that held three picnic tables, one of which was occupied by a family with two young boys. He got out of the car, but she decided to stay where she was.
He opened her door and gave her a look that promised he’d pull her out if she didn’t get out on her own. She grabbed her umbrella at the last second to annoy him, then did her best to poke him in the head as she popped it open. “The sun is beastly.”
