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The idea depressed him, but he didn’t have time to think about it because his father was speaking in that overly jovial manner he reserved for major investors. “Hugh, I’d like you to meet my son, Kenny. Hugh’s had an open invitation to visit for years, Kenny. I’m just glad he finally took me up on it.”
“Ah, yes.” Hugh had a handshake like a wet golf towel. “Pleasure, indeed, Ken. Can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’ve taken such good care of my Emma.”
Kenny’s jaw tightened. “No problem.”
Torie stepped forward, and the protective way she looped her arm through Kenny’s indicated she could read her brother’s mind. “Hey, bubba. Hugh here’s a golfer, and I was just tellin’ him about my round at the club this morning. If I hadn’t mi
ssed a four-footer, I’d have shot a seventy-nine.”
Hugh gave her a patronizing smile. “Yes, well, I suggested to your sister that she might be moving her head when she’s putting. I’ve been known to miss a few short ones on the links myself. Not often, you understand. Although I’m not in your league, Ken, I’ve made my share of pars.”
“Is that so.”
Shelby hurried back into the room with Peter propped on one hip and a tray of hors d’oeuvres in her opposite hand. The baby’s cheek was creased, and he rubbed one eye with his fist. “Sorry I was gone so long. Peter just woke up.”
Hugh stared at the baby as if Shelby had brought a rattlesnake into their midst, but Shelby didn’t seem to notice. “Peter’s nine months old and the apple of his daddy’s eye.”
Warren smiled. “There’s something to be said for having a second family, Hugh. You get a chance to correct old mistakes.”
Kenny recoiled from the faintly wistful note he heard in his father’s voice. “Let me take Petie from you, Shelby, while you give Hugh some more of those hors d’oeuvres.”
Hugh bristled with displeasure over the lack of formal address, but Kenny pretended not to notice.
Shelby passed over the baby and headed toward Beddington. “You have to try Luisa’s stuffed mushrooms, Your Grace. They’re delicious. And have some cheese straws. They’re from a Martha Stewart recipe, but I overlook that.” Hugh was soon resettled in a wing chair with a napkin full of hors d’oeuvres positioned neatly across his vast lap and a suspicious eye on Peter, who was rubbing his nose across the Cadillac logo on Kenny’s shirtfront.
“You know what I’ve been thinking?” Torie’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “We need to show Hugh some Texas nightlife. I was planning to meet Dex at the Roustabout later. Why don’t we all go and take Hugh along? You ever tried line dancing, Hugh?”
He frowned at Torie’s familiarity. “Emma and I have some catching up to do, so the two of us are going to have a quiet dinner at the hotel. Emma, it will be more convenient for me if you’re staying there, too, so I had my secretary book a room for you. On a separate floor, of course.”
Kenny opened his mouth to tell Hugh what he could do with his room, only to have Shelby interrupt.
“No way, Your Grace. Warren and I couldn’t stand having you stay at that drafty old hotel. Luisa’s getting a room all ready for you upstairs. You’ll have your own bathroom and a pretty balcony.”
Shelby enjoyed acting like a birdbrain, but she was sharp as a tack, and Kenny tried to figure out what was going on. Was she trying to help him out by keeping Hugh away from Emma, or did she only care about having bragging rights to housing an English duke?
The last of the hors d’oeuvres disappeared into Hugh’s mouth. He blotted the corners with the napkin. “Awfully nice of you, but I really don’t believe—”
“Nobody wants to admit it,” Warren said, “but the hotel’s been having a problem with cockroaches.”
It was the first Kenny’d heard about it, and he studied his father more closely. What exactly did they have up their sleeves? It only took a moment for him to figure it out. His father wanted to keep Hugh nearby so he could leverage more money out of him and maybe put off the merger.
“Cockroaches? Oh, dear . . .”
Petie made a soft, muffled noise, and Kenny remembered that he’d just gotten up from his nap. He quickly moved forward. “You didn’t get a good look at my baby brother, and I know from Emma how fond you British are of children. Here.”
He gently, but purposefully, set Peter in Hugh’s lap. Hugh stiffened. Peter looked up at him and crumpled his forehead.
Kenny shot him a pointed look. Just do your thing, little bro.
The baby settled, but he didn’t look happy about it. Hugh looked even more unhappy. “See here . . .”
“Emma said you had some kids of your own.” Kenny gave him a genial smile while keeping an eye on Petie, who was gradually getting red in the face. “Two little girls, isn’t it?”
“Uh . . . yes . . . they’re at school now.”
Petie grunted.
“At school?” Kenny said. “They don’t have a vacation like Emma?”
