Maureen Child - Brides & Bargains

Only time would tell.

* * *

Sebastian sat alone at the dining room table, staring at the familiar number splashed across his cell phone screen. He needed to answer the call but dreaded it all the same.

After one more ring, Sebastian swiped the screen and said, “Hello, Stella.”

“For pity’s sake, Sebastian, where are you?”

His stepmother was nothing if not direct. “Texas.”

“You went after her even after I advised against it.”

“Yes, but before you go off on the virtue of patience, she is my wife and I have every right to seek her out.”

“Yes, you do, yet it could make matters much worse.”

“We’re getting along famously.”

“I hope that is the case,” she said skeptically.

“It is. How is Father?”

The slight hesitation had him bracing for bad news. “Actually, he’s had a cheery day. He played chess with the butler this morning.”

Odd that his patriarch could remember how to play a board game yet at times forgot his own son’s name. “That’s good. He’s a tough old guy.”

“Yes, but might I remind you, the last time you spoke to the physician, he told you he’s going to continue to fade away, little by little, until we won’t recognize the man he used to be, and he quite possibly will not recognize us.”

Sebastian didn’t need to be reminded of that. “I know, Stella. That’s why it’s imperative I work out my problems with Nasira and return to London as soon as feasible.”

“And that is why you must consider having a child as soon as possible. I would like your father to go to the hereafter knowing he has an heir.”

As if Sebastian needed more pressure in the procreation department. After all, his father had been partially responsible for his reluctance to try again with Nasira and wholly responsible for Sebastian’s mother’s death. “There is no guarantee that will happen before his demise.”

“The doctor believes he still has a few years left in him.”

But would they be good years?

Sebastian looked up to see Nasira standing in the open doorway, giving him a good excuse to cut the conversation short. “I will take your request under advisement. In the meantime, I’m going to have dinner with my wife. Tell Father hello from both of us.”

Stella barely had time to say goodbye before Sebastian ended the call. He pushed the phone aside and studied Nasira. Her long, silky black hair cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a pink sleeveless blouse that complemented her golden skin and white loose-fitting slacks that hid her best attributes. Not an issue. He knew exactly what the cotton fabric concealed.

“You look very pretty tonight.”

She pulled back the chair across from him and sat. “Thank you. I see you’ve gone from cowboy to corporate billionaire. If I had known you were going to wear a suit and tie I would have donned an evening gown.”

“Force of habit,” he said as he shrugged out of his jacket and laid it on the seat next to him. “Better?”

“A bit more casual.” She bent her elbow on the table and supported her cheek with her palm. “Did you do all this?”

“Will I score a few points if I said yes?”

“You will score points if you tell me the truth.”

“Actually, the table was already set. I did remove the food from the oven.”

“It smells wonderful,” she said as she unfolded the white napkin and laid it in her lap, prompting Sebastian to follow suit.

“That it does.”

When he reached for her plate, she waved him away. “I am quite capable of helping myself.”

“Far be it for me to tread on your independence.”

She took a less-than-generous helping of the roast beef and vegetables. “You have a habit of doing that.”

“I do?”

“Yes, you do. I suppose I cannot fault you considering I was rather helpless when we married.”

She had been the picture of innocence. “You’ve grown quite a bit, Sira.”

“I would hope so after ten years.” She took a bite then a drink of water from the cut-crystal glass. “Evidently Annie is fond of salt.”

Sebastian took a much bigger bite of the fare and found it to his liking. But he thought it best to be as agreeable as possible. “Perhaps a bit. I just spoke with Stella. She told me to give you her regards.”

“How is James?”

“She said he had a good day, right after she lectured me on leaving without giving her notice.”

Nasira’s brown eyes widened. “You didn’t tell her you were coming here?”

“I left word through the servants. It was very much a spontaneous decision.”

“I am certain she was worried.”

“Possibly, but she was more concerned about other issues.”

“What issues?”

He was hoping she wouldn’t ask. “You know Stella. She is a broken record when it comes to producing an heir.”

“That is understandable, Sebastian. She knows how badly your father would like to see that happen.”

He had suddenly lost his appetite. “My father has no right to dictate my future after what he did...” He refused to go there for if he did, he would have to offer an explanation.

“What did he do, Sebastian?”

He took another bite that now tasted bitter as brine. “I’d prefer not to discuss it.”

Nasira wadded the napkin and tossed it on the table. “This is exactly the reason we are having problems. Your inability to communicate drives me batty.”

“It’s complicated, Sira. I see no point in dredging up the past.”

“Perhaps you should since it’s apparently affecting our future.”

He shoved back from the table and began to pace. “You are asking too much of me.”

“I am only asking for honesty, Sebastian. My intent is not to cause you pain. Does this have something to do with your mother?”

He turned midstride and faced her. “It has everything do with her.”

“Please, come sit and tell me about her. Surely you have good memories.”

More than she would ever know, unless he finally told her. Then he could gradually move into the bad, if he dared.

He reclaimed his seat and stared at the food now growing cold on his plate. “I have no idea how to begin to tell you about Martha Ella Edwards.”

Nasira set her plate aside and folded her arms atop the table. “I know you were ten when she passed, so I suppose you can begin by telling me what you do remember.”

He smiled at the recollections, the special moments that he had never shared. The painful times he couldn’t share, at least not now. “She was extremely devoted to my father and to me. She used to call me her little drummer boy because I had a penchant for stealing wooden spoons from the kitchen and banging them on anything stationary.”

“Clearly you were destined to be in a rock band.”

“I thought that too after Mother bought me a real set of drums on my eighth birthday. But of course James could not endure the noise and had the servants toss them two days later.”

Nasira laid her palm on his hand, which was now resting on the tabletop. “I am so sorry, Sebastian. I know you and your father have always seemed to be at odds, but I assumed that had to do with the two of you butting horns over business like two battering rams.”

If she only knew the reason behind Sebastian’s well-hidden resentment. If he let down his guard, she would. “I never approved of the way he treated my mother, as if she were no more than a concubine put on this earth for his pleasure.”

“How could you believe that at such a young age? Was he inappropriate in your presence?”

“No. I only learned some facts later and drew my own conclusions.”

“You are going to have to be less vague in order for me to help you move past this.”