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When I make a decision, it’s hard to change my mind, and I still think telling her we can’t repeat what happened was the right thing to do. But now I feel like I just poked my own eyes out.
I shake my head and click on my inbox. I have a ton to do and need to get on with work.
But her face rises in my thoughts again and I see her blue eyes turn dark and fill with tears. She did her best to hold them back and not let me see how upset she was by my words, but by the time she rose from her chair and left the room, she was sobbing.
I considered going after her, but what would be the point? It would just make not being able to have her, worse. As much as her pride must be wounded and she feels rejected, she’ll get over it and then hopefully we can salvage a good working relationship, and perhaps even a proper friendship.
Real friends are scarce when you come from a wealthy family like mine. I try not to be jaded, but many people want to exploit us as a meal ticket. It’s no coincidence that Damian and Caspian are struggling just as much as me with the immense challenge of finding the right woman to marry so they can fulfil grandfather’s inheritance clause in the will.
There was an obvious attraction between Damian and Jamie. But I can’t see Grandfather approving of the match, even if by some miracle she has managed to pierce my brother’s impenetrable veil. She’s clearly an independent businessperson, but I didn’t get any sign she comes from money.
Grandfather was born into a working-class Yorkshire family and founded the company in an astonishing rags-to-riches phenomenon, but he solidified his place amongst the wealthy in society through a combination of his father-in-law’s elite position and by making buckets of his own money. And we are long considered a part of the establishment, and he’s got the expectations to match. Grandfather expects us to make collaborative marriages that strengthen the family.
The thought of my inevitable impending date with Elizabeth Archer flashes into my head and I push it forcefully away. I don’t want to think about that now. I’m too upset by Nathalie’s reaction, no matter how much I tell myself it’s for the best. We’ve only known each other a short time, and she’s the nanny, for God’s sake. What is this feeling between us?
One thing is certain—I’m not rushing down the aisle with Elizabeth Archer or any other ‘suitable’ bride selected by Grandfather. The whole arranged marriage business is archaic, so I will play along with the dating and let him see I’m trying. But that’s it for now. I’ll drag it out as long as I can and tell him I haven’t found the right woman yet. That will buy me some time.
Nathalie’s face hovers at the back of my mind and she springs into my thoughts again and I hope she’s okay. Clearly, she doesn’t want to be just friends, and judging by her emotional reaction, she has feelings for me, too.
If I’m to keep her on as staff, I must tread carefully and not give her hope that anything can happen between us. On reflection, it was selfish of me to think we can be friends, just because I don’t want to lose her. I see that now, and I decide to back off from that idea.
My thoughts slide to my siblings. I’m close with Caspian and I know he is rebellious about the prospect of an arranged or even an approved marriage. Caspian knows that if he doesn’t get engaged to someone suitable soon, Grandfather will insist on helping things along. He is more vigilant about it since my divorce, and Damian’s relationship ended in such a spectacular fashion. All Damian has done since is party like a wild thing and then take it to the other extreme and hide away from the world and become a workaholic.
Like I say, the oldest three Rochester brothers are not doing too well in the realm of romantic relationships. Our sister Marian is slightly younger than Caspian and shows no signs of settling down either, so I understand why my grandfather is on edge. She’s obsessed with her career and spends most of her time at the London flagship store, which she uses as HQ for the home of her Marian Rochester label. As far as I’m aware, she’s still single and keeps her private life a secret.
Years ago, she had a crush on one of my best friends when we all still lived at Greystone. He would visit and stay over, and we’d all hang out. She used to turn blood red whenever he came into the room, and I teased her terribly. But other than that, I’ve not heard a whisper of her going on a date, never mind having a long-term relationship. After university, my friend joined the army and was posted overseas. I haven’t heard from him in ages, and briefly I wonder how he’s doing and make a mental note to look him up and try to reconnect.
We seem to do a stellar job of disappointing Grandfather. Aside from the strict terms of his will, there’s nothing he wants more than a load of great-grandchildren piling in and out of Greystone. My mother’s keen to see babies in the nursery too, but she doesn’t badger us, fortunately. I’ve contributed my beautiful Daisy, but no one else looks remotely near the point of having a child. Our New York cousins are slightly younger than us and as far as I’m aware, there are no American great-grandchildren on the horizon either.
Then we have our brothers, Christian, and Max or Maximillian. They are too busy getting laid to worry about marriage yet, and a part of me envies them. Bringing up the rear is dear, sweet Lillian, who we call Lily. She’s the baby of the family, and we all spoil her. She’s at university, so I hope it’s going to be a long, long time before she produces a baby for the Rochester clan. The thought of a guy messing with my baby sister is not something I wish to contemplate.
No one escaped the dreadedianat the end of their name. Mum and dad must have used up all the suitable names, so it’s just as well they didn’t have more kids.
I must stop wasting my morning. There’s a ton of stuff to do, and I click onto my calendar and check the latest updates from my assistant.
My mood darkens as I see the entry for Friday evening: Dinner with Elizabeth Archer.
I let out a long, heavy sigh.Dinner. Really? Fuck.I don’t know how I’m going to get through an intimate dinner with a woman I don’t even want to date. It seems like a death sentence.
Pull yourself together. You’re a Rochester and you knew this day was coming.
I sigh again, and then click ‘accept’ on my calendar. Looks like I’m going to dinner with Elizabeth Archer on Friday evening.
My heart sinks at the prospect of Nathalie finding out. Maybe I’ll avoid mentioning it. She doesn’t have to know where I’m going. It’s not like we’re in a relationship—I mean, we kissed for a few minutes, and yes, I kissed her in places I most definitely shouldn’t have—but that’s it. I’ve apologised and told her it can’t go any further. We’re both free agents, and I won’t disappoint my grandfather again.
So why do I feel this heavy gloom descending on me and enveloping me like a shroud? My feelings for Nathalie torment me. I can’t stop my sexual urges for her.
Even at the end of my marriage, I didn’t feel this solid bleakness. Now, looking back, I knew we weren’t right for each other, but I didn’t want to accept it. I was so wrapped up in work I avoided thinking about my personal life. And when my wife left, I dealt with it reasonably well. I was hurt, yes. But I didn’t have the luxury of brooding for long.
Daisy was the focus of my attention, and I channelled my energy into making sure she was okay and keeping the business moving forward. The separation and divorce happened relatively quickly and although I felt like she’d kicked me in the nuts, I knew I’d get over it. I didn’t get close to a woman again because I didn’t want to risk the heartache. Then Nathalie infiltrated my barriers because I didn’t expect her…
Everyone who knows me will tell you I’m an upbeat, sunny-natured kind of guy. I don’t do gloomy.
So why do I feel like I’m suffocating in a dark pit?
CHAPTER16
Nathalie
