Sophie Pembroke - Pregnant On The Earl's Doorstep

Heather Reid wouldn’t understand that, he’d bet. She was probably an honest, good girl, out of her depth in the pool of Lengroth scandals.

Of course, he could be overestimating her. Because, really, who travelled all the way from London to the wilds of Scotland just to ‘do the right thing’? Nobody in Cal’s family, that was for certain.

He wasn’t sure any of his ancestors or relatives would even know what the right thing was , if it came calling. Not even Ross.

So, as trustworthy as Heather seemed, Cal knew better than to take those wide, innocent eyes at face value.

‘Did you hope he’d support you financially?’ he asked. That had to be it, right? Ross had told her he lived in a damn castle—of course she was after money. ‘Or buy you off, so he didn’t have to tell Janey?’

The worst part was that was probably exactly what Ross would have done. What Bryce men had been doing for generations to cover up their misdemeanours and betrayals. Hiding their scandals away under a blanket of hush money.

It was just that Cal had been so sure that Ross was different. And that if Ross could be different maybe he could, too. Maybe the scandal gene had skipped a generation, or something.

But here it was, fresh and revitalised for a whole new era of Bryces, ready to bring the Earldom of Lengroth into disrepute once and for all. Hiding bad behaviour had been a lot easier before the advent of social media.

Across the desk, he saw Heather’s eyes had widened with shock. ‘I didn’t... No. Like I said—I have a job of my own. Supply teaching might not pay brilliantly, but I like working with the kids and it’ll pay enough to support me and this baby, just. So, no, I wasn’t expecting money. As I told you—if anything, I was expecting him to throw me out.’

‘But you came anyway?’

‘But I came anyway.’

Cal eyed her across the desk. She seemed genuine. Sincere. But then, people always did—until they screwed you over.

Then his gaze landed on the duck again. ‘I have to ask...’ He gestured towards it.

Spots of pink appeared on Heather’s cheeks. ‘Oh! It sort of...appeared in the moat as I was approaching the door. It seemed wrong to leave it there so I brought it in with me.’

Daisy, Cal was willing to bet. After tossing a bucket of water out of that nursery window a rubber duck was nothing. Practically a step down, in fact.

Cal thought wistfully of the time when he’d honestly believed that his niece and nephew were delightful, well-behaved children. When he’d lived thousands of miles away and only seen them for an afternoon at a time.

‘How do you imagine the duck got there?’ he asked Heather. ‘In the moat, I mean?’ An idea was starting to form somewhere in the back of his brain. It was entirely possible that it was a terrible idea, but it wasn’t as if he had any better ones to go with. Especially since it seemed that the latest nanny from the agency hadn’t even made it as far as the castle gates.

‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly say.’

There was a wry smile on Heather’s face that told Cal everything he needed to know. Firstly, that she knew exactly who must be responsible for the duck, but wasn’t going to drop the kids in it. And, secondly, that Heather Reid was an open book, with her every thought and feeling shown on her face for him to read—as long as he could see it.

It was the second of those two facts that convinced him to follow the hare-brained plan that had evolved in his mind. After all, if he could see Heather’s face he’d know when she was about to do something stupid. Like sell her story about her night with the Earl to the local papers. Or try to blackmail him for financial support. Or whatever.

And maybe, just maybe, what Daisy and Ryan really needed was someone on their side—the way Cal had always had Ross. And Cal had a feeling that Heather could be that person.

If she said yes.

Well, he’d never know if he didn’t ask.

‘So. You’re pregnant with my niece or nephew. I am guardian to your baby’s half-brother and half-sister. Clearly whatever happens next we’re all in each other’s lives now.’

Heather frowned. ‘I... I suppose.’

Her lack of enthusiasm was, Cal supposed, understandable. He wouldn’t want to be a part of this family either if he hadn’t been born into it. Even then, actually. But he didn’t have any choice. All he could do now was try and make growing up as a Bryce less awful for Daisy and Ryan than it had been for him and Ross. And he sure as hell couldn’t do that on his own.

He took a breath and tried to smile as he said, ‘In which case I have a proposition for you. If you’ll hear it?’

He had no idea what to do next if she wouldn’t.

* * *

A proposition? Heather remembered all too well what had happened last time a guy with the surname Bryce had propositioned her. But Cal didn’t seem like the sort.

She’d come all this way. The least she could do was hear him out. After all, it wasn’t as if she had any clear idea of her path forward. All she knew was that she needed to figure out a way to handle her situation without bringing scandal and shame down on her father. Again. He’d had enough of that for one lifetime, and last time... Well, the bottom line was she couldn’t risk that happening again.

She needed to manage this carefully. Maybe Cal could help her do that.

‘I’m listening,’ she said neutrally, watching his expression.

Cal leaned forward in his chair, folded his hands on the desk next to the rubber duck and gazed straight into her eyes. ‘I want you to stay here for the summer as nanny to Daisy and Ryan—Ross’s children.’

Heather blinked. ‘What?’ She might have been less surprised if he’d suggested he ravish her over the desk, or that they set up a rubber duck factory together. ‘I’m... I’m not a nanny.’

‘No, you’re a teacher. Which means you know kids a hell of a lot better than I do, for sure. Daisy and Ryan...they’re ten and eight and they’re struggling. They need someone who knows what they’re doing and I think that person is you. Plus, teachers get great summer holidays, right?’

Six weeks. Six weeks in which she’d normally be planning for the next school year, sorting out her classroom, preparing supplies and resources... Except she’d been on a maternity leave cover contract for a year and, despite the promise of another position when the teacher she was covering for returned, last-minute budget cuts meant she didn’t actually have a new job for September yet. No class to prepare for. And, given all the upheaval in her life, she’d figured some supply work might be best for the next term or so anyway. Until she figured out what she was doing.

All of which meant she really didn’t have anything to do this summer.

She thought back to Cal’s rambled job description when he’d thought she was Miss Thomas.

‘If you stick out six weeks here at Castle Lengroth, and get the children prepared physically, mentally and emotionally for boarding school, I’ll pay you for a full year’s work at your agency base rate. But if you quit before the six weeks are up you get nothing.’

Did that offer still stand? A year’s wages, even at nanny agency rates, would go an awful long way towards providing her with the cushion she needed to take care of this baby—and herself—until she got a new job. She could break the news of her pregnancy to her father in her own time and, while she’d have to tell him about the whole sleeping with a married earl thing, maybe no one else would need to know. It didn’t seem that Cal was desperate to shout it from the rafters.

There’d be talk at home, of course. But an unmarried mother was a totally different thing to an aristocratic homewrecker. And very different again from last time, with her mother. Maybe it would be okay...