The Determined Groom

“Todd.” Laurel’s voice sounded husky and slow, as if she had just been rudely awakened from a pleasant dream, Connor thought. Or was that simply his own feeling? Laurel stopped dancing and Connor had no choice but to release her.

“This is my old friend, Connor Northrup,” Laurel said, starting the introductions. “You must have heard me talk about Connor. We go way back.”

“Of course. Good old Connor. Boy hero, a friend to all. I remember,” Todd assured both of them.

Connor knew that if Todd recalled anything about his relationship with Laurel it would most likely be that Connor was the son of the family servants, the caretaker—and sometimes chauffeur—and the housekeeper. From the cool, condescending way Todd looked him over and the curt nod of greeting, Connor felt certain that this was the case.

“Connor, this is my fiancé, Todd Parson.”

“Congratulations on your engagement,” Connor offered politely. “You’re a lucky man.”

“Thanks, Connor.” Todd slipped his arm around Laurel’s waist and pulled her toward him. “Guess I chased her until she caught me,” he joked.

Connor laughed politely along with Laurel, but he could see how Todd’s little joke had stung her. He didn’t like Todd Parson. He supposed that most women would find the guy good-looking, but Connor didn’t like the man’s small dark eyes, his slicked-back hair, his cocky attitude. His entire demeanor screamed of the right family name, the right schools and connections. But Connor felt, deep in the marrow of his very bones, that this arrogant young man, who came equipped with all the advantages of wealth and class, was not nearly good enough for Laurel.

“Stan and Louise just arrived. They’ve been asking for you,” Todd mentioned privately to Laurel. “I really think you ought to say hello to them. Especially since Stan sent me that new client last week.”

“Oh, yes. I guess I’d better,” Laurel agreed, scanning the crowd. Then she glanced up at Connor, her turquoise eyes shimmering with some private message for him alone. Clearly, she seemed sorry to leave him. But there was something more. What was it exactly? Connor wondered as he tried to understand. Telegraphing her reluctance to leave him? Her sense of being torn suddenly between her promise to Todd and the feelings ignited by their reunion?

“I’ll see you later, Connor. We’ll catch up some more, okay?” Laurel said as Todd began to sweep her back into the crowd.

“Sure thing,” Connor replied easily, though he felt anything but.

Laurel nodded, then turned to respond to some request from Todd that Connor could not hear. Todd’s face looked a bit flushed, as if he’d had too much to drink or was simply irritated, annoyed at Laurel for some reason.

Jealous maybe, Connor thought. Had he been in Todd’s place and found his fiancé in the arms of another man with that dreamy expression on her face, he would have felt the same.

Connor watched as the couple disappeared into the laughing, milling crowd and then walked off in search of a drink. His head pounded and a bitter knot twisted in his gut. He was jealous of Todd Parson. Out of his head with jealousy. And what right did he have to feel this way? Absolutely no right at all.

Except that he did. For the profound, amazing feelings for Laurel he’d so newly discovered seemed to grant him the right.

Was he fooling himself? Or had he and Laurel discovered something rare and special here tonight? If so, did they even have time to figure it out before her wedding day?

How ironic, Connor thought as he lifted a glass of champagne off a passing silver platter. He’d known Laurel most of his life. And now, when perhaps he was just coming to realize what she meant to him—what she could mean to him—it was too late. She was claimed by another man.

Connor knew full well that he should respect Laurel’s commitment. In all his life, even as a boy, he’d lived by a strong moral and ethical code and found it hard to imagine himself violating those standards. He certainly didn’t think much of men who cheated on their romantic partners, or tried to break up a couple. Especially a couple who planned to be married.

Yet, all these rules and standards didn’t seem to apply here. They didn’t seem relevant to him and Laurel, not now anyway. All the rules and ethical standards in the world couldn’t come close to overshadowing what he felt in his heart. He’d long known the quote, “All’s fair in love and war.” But until tonight, until the moment he pondered the ethical side of pursuing his newfound feelings for Laurel, he’d never understood it.

For to Connor’s mind, when it came to questions of right and wrong, it suddenly didn’t seem right that Laurel could marry another man. Just as it didn’t seem right that the sun would rise in the west tomorrow and set in the east. Did he dare mention such a thing to her?

Connor shook his dark head as he drained his drink to the bottom of the glass. They needed time. Time to get to know each other again. To test out these amazing, powerful feelings. He’d be asking her to risk everything on a whim, on an impulse.

What if he was wrong?

Slow down, pal, he coached himself. One step at a time. Laurel asked you to hang around so you could talk some more, so that’s what you should do.

Connor took a deep breath and set down his empty glass. He gazed around the party and recognized a few faces, friends of Laurel’s parents who had often been guests at the estate.

Of course, if they recognized him at all, they would remember him simply as the caretaker’s boy. Smart, good-looking, even well-spoken and polite…for a boy from the wrong side of town. How kind of Charles to have taken a liking to the kid. Taken him under his wing. How lucky for the boy to have such a powerful mentor. I understand Charles even helped him get a scholarship to Princeton, they’d whisper. I wonder if he appreciates all that Charles has done for him? they’d add.

And it was all true. Charles Sutherland had helped him a great deal. And while his scholarship had not covered every cost of his education, Connor also believed that working to earn his way in part had also provided an education for him, as valuable as the one he’d received in his classes.

Yes, he had a good deal to thank Charles Sutherland for, Connor reflected again. And how would he repay him? By stepping into his daughter’s orderly, well-planned life and creating havoc? By tempting her to be unfaithful to her fiancé, to break her promises and betray her commitments?

Connor searched for Laurel in the crowd and found her. His throat grew tight. The right thing to do was just walk away, right now. Leave for New York tomorrow morning first thing. Couldn’t risk seeing her again. Couldn’t even risk saying goodbye.

But he didn’t think he could do that. Didn’t want to do it. She’d be hurt, and he couldn’t do that for the world.

Connor stood on the sidelines of the party, sipping another drink and watching the parade of glittering guests. It had been a long time since he’d witnessed such a gathering—perhaps since the last time he’d attended a formal affair at the Sutherlands’. He’d come a long way since those days. Still, he felt awkward and out of place.

He scanned the crowd for a friendly face, hoping to spot his host, Charles Sutherland, whom he had not seen yet. The face he found was familiar yet had never been truly friendly. As Connor’s dark gaze locked with the gaze of Laurel’s older brother, Phillip, a myriad of emotions and memories flooded through him. Phillip stood in a circle talking, his arm around a beautiful, auburn-haired woman who gazed up at him with rapt attention.

Phillip had been blessed with the same golden-color hair as his sister; thick with a slight wave, it was combed back for a formal look. His eyes were also blue, but a pale, icy shade that suited his cold, calculating nature. Unlike Laurel, his build was stocky and thick. Even as a boy, he’d always been a bit overweight. But as a man, he was able to hide his girth a bit better, especially tonight, under his well-cut attire.

His fair coloring and bronzed complexion—acquired on golf courses, tennis courts and yachts, Connor had no doubt—was set off handsomely by his formal white dinner jacket. All in all, he looked every inch the polished, wealthy young bachelor, heir to the family business his father now ran.

As Connor recollected, Charles had mentioned that Phillip had been working at Sutherland Enterprises since graduating college four years ago. Expecting to take the place over when his father retired, Connor had no doubt. Though everyone who knew both the father and son would know that Phillip would never be half the man Charles Sutherland was.

Phillip nodded in greeting and Connor nodded back, feeling a bitter taste rise in the back of his throat. Then Phillip turned back to his circle and said something that made everyone laugh.

Connor knew instantly that Phillip Sutherland had not changed. He had never met anyone he detested more. Spoiled, manipulative and self-centered, Phillip had done his best to cause trouble for Connor all through their childhood.

Connor could have even tolerated the despicable schemes Phillip carried out to get Connor into trouble, if Phillip had been even the slightest bit kinder to Laurel. Phillip seemed to have no sense of a loving, protective instinct toward his younger sister. To the contrary, he was either blaming Laurel for his misdeeds or trying to trick her into covering up one of his messes. How many times had Connor, older and not nearly as trusting and naive as Laurel, stepped in, feeling the need to safeguard Laurel from her own brother’s machinations? Too many, Connor recollected. He and Phillip had found a lot to fight about. But Connor eventually drew the line at fistfights.

Not that he had ever been afraid of Phillip. Phillip was older, and had been taller and heavier than Connor at the time, but he never got the best of him. It was always Phillip who ran off with a bloody lip or black eye, crying to his father or mother about the rude, crude servant’s son. No, Connor had never feared Phillip, but he had learned to fear his own father’s wrath, for nothing could make Owen Northrup angrier than hearing that Connor and Phillip had gotten in a scrape.

Owen had disapproved of Connor’s friendship with Laurel and would have forbidden Connor to see her at all if he’d had his own way in the matter. Connor thought Owen permitted it only because Charles Sutherland liked Connor so much and seemed to think he was a good influence on his own children.

Owen, however, had stubbornly held on to the belief that no good could come of Connor socializing with what Owen called “his betters.” He was also terrified that he and his wife would lose their relatively comfortable and well-paying jobs with the Sutherlands due to one of Connor’s fights with Phillip.

To the best of Connor’s knowledge, Charles Sutherland had never viewed the boys’ scrapes as such a serious problem. In fact, Connor sometimes thought Charles hoped Phillip would glean some valuable lessons from his encounters with Connor.

To avoid facing his father’s wrath and the possibility of not being allowed to see Laurel anymore, Connor had often backed off from Phillip’s goading challenges. Phillip would gloat, as if Connor lacked courage. For the sake of keeping peace with his father and protecting his relationship with Laurel, Connor had suffered in silence. Though they all knew Connor could whip Phillip with one hand tied behind his back any day of the week. At least, that’s what Laurel had always told him.

Connor’s reverie was suddenly interrupted by a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Connor! So glad you could come, son.” Connor turned to face Charles’s warm and welcoming smile. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, of course. It’s quite a party,” Connor replied.

“Well, I would have preferred something smaller, at our place in New York. That’s where they’ll be married. But it was very important to Laurel to come up here, to have a gathering at this house.” Charles gazed around, his voice taking a wistful, bittersweet tone, Connor noticed. “She misses her mother, you know. We all miss her.”

“She was a wonderful woman,” Connor said.

Charles nodded, murmured his thanks and sipped his drink. Connor could see that after all these years it was still very difficult for Charles to speak about his wife. He didn’t know what else he might say and felt it best to say nothing more.

Coming here had brought back many memories of Laurel’s mother for him as well. At any moment he expected to see Madeleine Sutherland coming through the French doors from the ballroom, moving gracefully among her guests. Laughing, smiling, looking at her husband in that special way that told the world that Charles Sutherland was the center of her universe. She had been lovely and kind, a gracious woman who always had a special word for him and a way of making him feel welcome in her home. Laurel was turning out to be just like her. No mystery there. Madeleine Sutherland had been devoted to her children and particularly close to Laurel. It was sad that she had not lived to see her daughter’s wedding day.