‘I was only being polite,’ Benedict admitted. ‘You know me so well. “Mind your own business” sounded so…bald and lacking in respect.’
Stuart Arden gritted his teeth. Benedict was the one who was meant to be on the defensive. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the desk. That infuriatingly languid tone of Benedict’s always irritated him—he did it deliberately, of course…
‘She works for you, she has a child… You’re going to raise…false expectations; of course she’s eager. I’m not saying she’s set out deliberately to snare you.’
‘That’s very generous of you.’
‘You can sneer, Benedict, but you have to look at the facts. In her position who could blame her for…? You’re a catch, so they tell me. You’ll make her a figure of fun when you’ve finished with her.’
‘What an exemplary employer you are,’ Benedict breathed admiringly. ‘So considerate towards your employees. I’m curious about your sources. Is this fatherly instinct or surveillance talking now?’ The resigned humour had been replaced by a definite thread of hard anger, but his father continued, oblivious to the change.
‘Why go looking for trouble when there are any number of suitable young things like Serena…?’
‘Sabrina,’ Benedict corrected him drily.
‘Whatever.’ His father brushed aside the interruption impatiently. ‘The right sort of wife is very important for someone in our position. If you’d been married you wouldn’t have been so eager to spend six months sorting out a manager for that damned property. I’m sure she only left you the place to spite me!’ he added in a disgruntled tone.
‘Knowing Gran, you’re probably right,’ Benedict conceded with a sudden grin. ‘I’m surprised you married Mum, considering her shaky pedigree. The word hypocrite springs to mind for some reason.’
‘That’s entirely different.’
‘It would be, of course. But have I got this right? The consensus is I should marry…sooner rather than later. How do you know I’m not considering it…?’ Even though his only intention when he’d opened his mouth had been to taunt his father, by the time he closed it a number of things had fallen into place in his mind.
‘You, lumbered with another man’s cast-off?’
‘Are we talking child or mother here?’ Benedict let this slur pass unpunished. His heart wasn’t wholly committed to the verbal combat any longer; he was still reeling from an unexpected discovery.
‘Both! It would be social suicide. Have you any idea how many skeletons a woman like her is bound to have? A High Court judge needs to have a blemishless background…’
An unwilling laugh was torn from Benedict’s throat. ‘High Court judge! So that’s what I want to be when I grow up, is it, Daddy?’
‘You’ve got a brilliant future ahead of you; everyone says so,’ his father said defensively, aware that he’d gone further than he intended in the heat of the moment.
‘Thank you, Father.’ A smile that worried his parent no end curved the stern outline of Benedict’s lips.
Feeling old, the elder man levered himself slowly from the leather swivel chair. ‘Thank me for what?’ he said suspiciously. Emily had warned him to leave well alone. You’d think he’d have learnt by now—his wife usually knew what she was talking about, he reflected grimly.
‘For reminding me it’s my life.’
‘My life? What sort of talk is that? You’re an Arden, boy; you’re my heir.’
‘So long as I toe the line?’ Benedict suggested lightly. ‘You’ve got other children.’
‘Your brother is happy being a country solicitor.’ He shook his head, unable to comprehend how his first-born was happy with such an existence.
‘Nat…’
‘Natalie is a girl.’
‘Open your eyes. Nat is a girl with enough drive and ambition to light up the national grid; is a girl who is as well endowed in the brains department as me.’
‘Did she gain entrance to Oxford when she was—?’
‘Oh, I know she hasn’t gone through school three years ahead of her peers, but that’s only because you didn’t think it worthwhile to constantly urge her onwards and upwards—she being a mere girl.’
‘You didn’t complain!’
‘Maybe you don’t know what things are really important until it’s too late,’ Benedict observed thoughtfully. He wasn’t assigning blame. So certain aspects of his childhood might have been better—the same could be said for a large proportion of the population. He was much more interested in the present.