A Will and a Wedding

Chapter One (#ulink_a8122816-e91d-5782-b29b-d1d34e8c172a)

Jefferson William Haddon III wanted a son.

Badly.

The problem, as Jefferson defined it, was that at age thirty-five, he had yet to find the type of woman with whom he would consider raising a child. And the very last thing he had expected was that someone would find such a woman for him.

“Would you say that again, please?”

Jefferson turned to stare at the woman across from him once more, unable to believe that his Aunt Judith had considered her suitable for marriage.

Not to him.

She wasn’t the type to be his wife.

If he had wanted one.

Which he did not! Not like this.

“Miss McNaughton will continue her sponsorship of you in your endeavor, Miss Newton, provided that you and her nephew, Jefferson Haddon, marry within the next two months. Until that time, you may both reside in her home, Oak Bluff, all expenses paid.” Judith’s old family lawyer cleared his throat.

“Mr. Haddon, when you marry you will receive Miss McNaughton’s fortune less Miss Newton’s yearly allowance of one hundred thousand dollars. You will both receive the deeds to the house and its entailments, free and clear. Miss Newton will, as your wife, continue to live in the house as long as she wishes.” The snowy haired gentleman paused to glance up at the couple seated before him. His light blue eyes darkened as he continued.

“If you should choose to ignore her wishes, Miss McNaughton has directed that neither of you shall benefit. Miss Newton will be forced to make other arrangements for her work and Mr. Haddon will have no further claim on her estate. The property will be sold and the money will go to an animal shelter she has so named.”

Even as he wondered what the woman’s ‘work’ was, Jefferson’s mouth fell open.

“But surely we can contest the terms of this will, Mr. Jones. You were her friend for years, surely you realize what a terrible position this places us in.” He stopped, conscious of the glowering countenance of the old lawyer.

“Your aunt was of perfectly sound mind when she made out this document.” The wrinkled old hand shook Judith’s will in front of them both. “Should the opportunity arise, and you decide to contest, young man, I will be happy to testify to her sanity. In court. Under oath.” The old man’s tone was frosty with contempt.

Jefferson was furious. He raked a hand through his perfectly groomed dark head in agitation. Yes, he wanted a child, but he had no desire to get married for money. And he certainly would not be forced into it by a busybody old aunt with nothing better to do than play matchmaker.

Blast, what a mess.

That woman, what was her name? Cassie, he remembered suddenly, Cassie.something. Anyway, she sat staring at him in horror. As if she could do worse than marry into one of the oldest families in Toronto!

“I’ll move out immediately.” He heard her words through a fog and turned to stare.

“What?”

“Are you hard of hearing, Mr. Haddon? I said, I will move out of the house immediately.” Her voice was sharp with scorn. “I have no intention of marrying you or anyone else to provide a roof over my head.”

She surged to her feet with all the pomp and ceremony of a miniature warship, sailing off to battle. She stood in front of him, hands on her shapely hips. Grim determination turned down the edges of her mouth. Jefferson laughed at the absurdity of it, and then watched fascinated as her body went rigid with fury.

“Your aunt was a gracious woman who treated everyone with dignity and respect. It’s too bad you didn’t turn out the same.”

He studied the wide green eyes, huge and full of turmoil in a face white with strain. Her black hair curved around her oval face in a riot of curls that bounced merrily with each move she made.

She was not like any woman he had seen before, Jefferson decided. This Cassie person’s appearance fell somewhere between comfortable unconcern and brilliant chic. She wore a bulky red sweater that hung well below her hips. A flaring skirt in a wild pattern of reds and oranges dropped to her ankles. She had on some type of granny boot that should have looked ridiculous and instead suited her crazy outfit. The gypsy look was further embellished by gold hoops that hung from her small earlobes.

Jefferson found those turbulent eyes fixed on himself.

Coldly.

“Look, Mr. Haddon. I’m not a charity case. I lived with your aunt because she asked me to. She was lonely, I think, and gradually she developed a fondness for some of my charges. I think they provided some amusement for her when she couldn’t get out anymore.” Her glittering eyes reminded him of a cat’s when it was hissing with fury, ready to strike. “But I am not, I repeat not, going to live with you in that house, let alone marry you, just so I can get my hands on a hundred grand.”

She stared down her pert little nose at him, which would have been effective if she hadn’t had to tip her head back so far to meet his eyes. He wondered where she had learned the slang terms for money even as he appreciated the fact that she also had no intention of going along with Judith’s machinations.

Grinning, he held up one hand.

“No offense, Miss, er, uh-” Jefferson looked toward the lawyer to fill in the gap.

“Newton, Cassandra Newton,” she repeated, her voice seething with unspoken emotions.

Jefferson watched as she rolled her eyes upward and then closed them. She was whispering. Some kind of a prayer. He recognized the same habit his aunt had employed during his own rebellious youth. He listened unashamedly to her softly spoken words, a half smile on his mouth.

“God, I need some help here. I know you’re leading me and I’m trying to remember that this is Judith’s nephew, so for her sake I’ll try to be polite.” She sighed deeply, her shoulders rising. “But, Lord. You know I don’t tolerate egotistical, arrogant, spoiled brats very well.”

That said, she wheeled away toward the door, ignoring Jefferson as she spoke directly to Mr. Jones.

“Thank you for inviting me to hear the will, Mr. Jones. I appreciated Miss McNaughton’s help when she was alive, but I just can’t marry someone because she wanted me to.” She cast a disparaging look over Jefferson.

Especially not him, her turbulent sea green gaze seemed to say.

Mr. Jones thoughtfully stroked the snowy white beard that made him look like a jovial Santa Claus. He held on to the tiny hand she had offered, while silently contemplating her determined stance. Finally he spoke.

“You have two more months to live in the house before the will dictates that you must move out, Miss Newton. May I suggest that you stay there and use that time to sort out your plans for the future? In the meantime, Miss McNaughton has provided some funds for your living expenses.”

Jefferson watched as the woman accepted an envelope, which he assumed contained a cheque, from Jones. They spoke quietly together for a few moments before she left. Jefferson smiled as she deliberately ignored his presence.

Good! He had no desire to deal with some money grubbing female just now.

The next few hours were fraught with tension as he and the older man went over the legal documents several times. Finally Jefferson was forced to give up in defeat. There was little hope of breaking this will. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to, not really.

Aunt Judith had been the one person to whom he’d been able to run when life got rough during those difficult childhood years. She had always been ready to offer a shoulder, a handkerchief and a cookie when he desperately needed all three. She had been the calm mothering influence he had never found at home. She had also been tough and uncompromising when her mind settled on something. If Judith McNaughton wanted it, she invariably got it. Apparently she wanted to see him married.

“Mr. Jones, I have to tell you that this doesn’t fit in with my plans at all. Not at all.”

He fingered his mustache and considered the older man. There was nothing but courtesy and consideration in that lined face and Jefferson decided to explain his blueprint for the future.

“I have invested a substantial amount of money and a large of amount of time researching the possibilities of obtaining a surrogate mother and defining exactly what her rights in such an arrangement would be.”

“You want a child badly, Mr. Haddon.”

Jefferson nodded.

“I want a son. I’ve interviewed couples who have gone through the process and inspected the children produced from such a union. I’m satisfied that they seem normal healthy children with a parent who truly wants them.”