Second Chance With Lord Branscombe

‘Oh, you know me so well, don’t you?’ he said with a short laugh, reading her mind. ‘Or at least you always thought you did.’ He sobered, studying her thoughtfully.

‘Oh, cryptic now, are we?’ She let that one pass and asked seriously, ‘So...have you come back to sort out the estate?’

He raised a dark brow. ‘Can you imagine my father letting me do that? He’s never listened to any ideas that don’t go along with his way of thinking, from me or anyone. That’s why we argued and it’s another reason why I left. He’s always been a stubborn man, determined to do things his own way.’

‘Yes, but you can be a bit like that sometimes,’ she said, challenging him. ‘Isn’t there a bit of like father, like son? After all, you decided on medicine as a career and went your own way, even though you knew your father was set against it.’

‘True,’ he conceded, ‘but I felt very strongly about becoming a doctor. I’m lucky, far more fortunate than a lot of people—I was able to dip into my trust-fund money to get me through university because he wouldn’t support me in my choice. He wanted me to go in a completely different direction and learn everything there was about Estate Management so that I could take over one day, but I couldn’t do what he asked. We settled the argument eventually, but it was always a sore point with him.’

‘Some people around here think you don’t care about the estate, or the village.’

‘Is that what you believe?’ He shot her a lancing green stare.

‘I think I know you better than that...but I’d like to hear your side of things.’

He made a grimace. ‘It’s not true that I don’t care. Of course I care. It’s my heritage. The Manor has been in our family for generations and I want to keep it that way. I would have been fine with taking on the estate when the time came. I would have done whatever was needed, with the help of managers and estate workers, but my father wouldn’t tolerate any of my ideas. Whenever I suggested changes that I felt would be for the better, he said things were all right as they were. He made things impossible for me. I wasn’t prepared to be just a figurehead, keeping things ticking along in the same old way.’

She nodded, acknowledging the truth of that. Her father had often hinted at how difficult it was to work with Lord Branscombe. ‘How are you getting along with him now that you’re back?’

He shrugged. ‘We still don’t see eye to eye, but we get on fine. When I heard that his angina was worsening I had to come back, to make sure he’s all right. I didn’t see that I had any choice. My father can be difficult, but he’s all I have and I’m his only son, so, despite our differences, we have a strong bond. We’ve come through a lot together over the years and we’ve learned to understand one another.’

‘And how is he, really? He hasn’t been looking too good lately.’

‘Do you care?’ His gaze narrowed on her, a muscle in his jaw flexing. ‘After what happened to your father, do you actually care what happens to him?’

She winced as his shot struck home. ‘If I’m honest, I’d like to be able to say...no, I don’t care...but I’m a human being and I’m a doctor, so it’s probably inbuilt in me to show concern for anyone who’s suffering. I still blame him for what happened to my father, but I can’t do anything to change the past, can I? Somehow, I have to try to accept it and move on.’

He sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie. I’d give anything for it not to have happened.’ He reached for her, his hand lightly smoothing over the bare skin of her arm. His touch disarmed her, sending a trail of fire to course through her body and undermine all her carefully shored-up defences. Against all common sense she found herself desperately wanting more.

She couldn’t think clearly while he was touching her, holding her this way. She looked at him, absorbing his strong features, the proud way he tilted his head, and wished more than ever that things could be different between them. But it could never be. Not when his father was responsible for the accident that caused her father’s terrible injuries.

‘I know you’re sorry...but it’s too late for regrets now, isn’t it? If you’d known about his angina earlier, you might have stopped him from taking off that day. But you didn’t.’ The words came out on a breathless whisper as she gently eased herself away from him. A look of anguish briefly crossed his face and she said quietly, ‘I suppose Charlotte has been making sure you knew how your father was getting along?’

‘Yes—if it had been left to him I would never have known how serious his condition had turned out to be. He’s far too stubborn for that. But Charlotte has been keeping me up to date, especially after the newspaper stories came out about the investments failing and he took a turn for the worse. We all thought his angina was under control, but his condition has deteriorated and it’s become unstable of late.’

She nodded. ‘Charlotte’s always been more than just a housekeeper to you, hasn’t she—from when you were little?’

He smiled. ‘That’s right. She’s looked out for me ever since I was nine years old—from when my mother died. She was always there for me when I needed her. She always seemed to know what was going on in my head, the things that frustrated me or made me happy. Truthfully, she’s been like a second mother to me. I’ll always want to keep her close.’

She smiled. ‘I know. I’ve always liked Charlotte.’ She gazed up at him. From a very young age he’d had a number of pseudo-stepmothers foisted on him as his father brought home a succession of girlfriends, but Charlotte had stayed through it all, his salvation, the one fixed point in his young life that never wavered.

It had been hard for him back then. Going round and about the village with him and their friends as they grew up, Sophie had seen the effect the loss of his mother had on him. Perhaps seeing his vulnerability was what had drawn her to him in the first place. His father hadn’t known how to deal with such a young, bewildered and frustrated boy and simply lost himself in keeping up with his contacts in the business world, in the City. Gradually, Nate had built a shell around himself. No one was going to penetrate his armour...no one except Sophie. Her parents had been going through a difficult time in their marriage and she and Nate had been like kindred souls.

Nate shot her a quick glance. ‘She told me she hasn’t seen your father in a while. Usually she sees him around the village, at the post office or the grocery store at least once a week, but lately she’s missed him.’ His voice deepened with concern. ‘How is he? Is he still able to get about in the wheelchair?’

‘Yes—he’s not been out and about lately because he’s getting over a nasty chest infection but he manages very well, all things considered.’

‘I heard he was having specialist treatment?’

‘Yes, that’s right. He was in hospital for a long time, as you know, and we were afraid he might never walk again—but thankfully he’s making progress. His spinal cord wasn’t cut right through, but it has taken a long time to heal, along with the broken bones—he still has physiotherapy several times a week. It’s a struggle for him, but he’s not one to give up. He generally tries to take things one day at a time. We’re hoping that he’ll be able to walk with a frame before too long.’

‘I’m so sorry, Sophie. If there’s anything I can do—’ He tried to reach for her but she took a step backwards. It was far too unsettling to have him touch her. Frowning, he let his arms fall to his sides.

‘It’s all right; I know you would do anything you can to help.’

‘My father said he tried to make amends but your father won’t talk to him—all their communication is being carried out through lawyers.’

‘That’s right.’ She shot him a quick glance. ‘Do you blame him?’

‘I suppose not...but nothing’s ever going to be achieved by not talking to one another.’

Her back stiffened. ‘The accident changed everything. He should never have gone up in that plane with your father—Lord Branscombe seemed unwell from the first but he insisted he was perfectly fit and able to fly. We’d no idea he was suffering from a heart condition. He should have been stopped. It wasn’t even as though the journey was important. He just wanted to check out the site of a new golf course he was planning.’ She wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture. ‘It was totally Lord Branscombe’s fault, but afterwards he replaced my father as Estate Manager and didn’t even offer him a desk job overseeing things.’

Nate frowned. ‘My father said he and the lawyers were talking about compensation.’

She gave a short humourless laugh. ‘Compensation? What compensation? Your father had been having angina attacks for some time without telling the authorities. He knew it would affect his pilot licence if he said anything—and when the insurance company found out about that they wouldn’t pay out. My father lost everything—his job, his house. He had to sell up and go into rented property.’

‘I know—he’s in one of the houses on the estate.’ Nate’s eyes darkened. ‘It was me who made sure he had somewhere to go... As for the rest, my father said everything was being dealt with. I’m sorry if that wasn’t the case... I’ve been working away quite a bit in the States, so I couldn’t oversee things for myself. I wanted to, but...you didn’t seem to want me around and then this job came up... I thought, perhaps, you would find it easier if I wasn’t around...’

She turned her back to the sea and leaned against the railing, facing him. She wouldn’t be drawn into that conversation again, not now. It was too difficult. ‘Will you be going back there?’

‘No, this last stint was just a six-months contract in the paediatric intensive care unit in Boston. I have a job lined up here in Devon, so I’ll be able to keep an eye on things from now on. It’s what I’ve been working towards. This business with my father just moved things forward a bit.’ His gaze moved over her, gliding over her slender curves, outlined by the simple sheath dress she was wearing. ‘Better still,’ he said in a roughened voice, ‘it means I’ll be able to see more of you. Perhaps you and I could start over...?’

Her heartbeat quickened and her cheeks flushed with heat. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ she countered in a low voice, her throat suddenly constricted. If Nate thought he could erase the last two years and swoop back into her life, he had another think coming.

‘Are you sure about that?’ He was looking at her in that devilish way that had her nervous system on red alert and he was moving closer, the glint in his green eyes full of promise...

It was a promise that never came to fruition. Shouts came from above them, shocking her system and acting like a dash of cold water to propel them away from one another.

‘Help, someone...come quickly—we need help here! Is Nate Branscombe still around? Is that his car in the car park?’

Startled, Sophie looked up to where the sound came from, up on the restaurant’s terrace. She saw people getting to their feet, rushing towards the corner table, barely visible from this angle.

A man came to lean over the balustrade, looking down at them, waving his arms urgently. ‘Nate, will you come up? It’s your father. He’s collapsed.’

‘Call for an ambulance,’ Nate shouted back. He was already taking the steps, racing to get to his father, but instead of following him Sophie hurried towards the car park. Her medical bag was in the boot of her car. Her instincts told her they might need it.

When she reached the corner table a few minutes later, she could see that James Branscombe was sitting propped up against the balustrade. His skin looked clammy, ashen as he groaned in pain. Sophie guessed he was having a bad angina attack, which meant his heart wasn’t receiving enough oxygen and had to work harder to get what it needed.

Nate had loosened his father’s shirt collar and was kneeling by him, talking to him quietly and trying to reassure him. ‘Is your nitro spray in your pocket?’ he asked, but James Branscombe was barely able to speak. Nate searched through his pockets until he found what he was looking for and then quickly sprayed the liquid under his father’s tongue. The medication would dilate the blood vessels, allowing blood to flow more easily and thereby lessening the heart’s workload.

Nate glanced at Sophie as she came to kneel down beside him. His expression was grim; his fear for his father was etched on his face. He seemed relieved to see that Sophie was by his side, though. ‘You have your medical bag?’ he said. ‘That’s good. Do you have aspirin in there?’

‘I do—they’re chewable ones, or he can dissolve them on his tongue.’ She opened the case and handed him the tablets. They would thin the blood and hopefully would prevent blood clots from closing up the arteries.

After a few minutes, though, it was clear that Lord Branscombe was still in a lot of pain. His features were grey, his lips taking on a bluish colour, and beads of cold sweat had broken out on his brow. Sophie guessed this was more than a bad angina attack. She was worried for Nate; this must be something he’d dreaded, the real reason he’d come home.

‘Morphine?’ Nate asked, and she nodded.