* * * *
“The roses in my bedroom are lovely,” Sophie said to John at dinner, watching his response.
He sat across from her, wearing a chocolate brown sweater and slacks. The color suited him and brought out the amber in his eyes. “Oh?”
“You didn’t have them put there?” She asked and took a drink of tea.
“No, I’m sorry to say I didn’t. That is, if you like them.” He looked distracted as he took a bite of lamb.
“I do, I think. They are a bit overwhelming. There are so many of them.” She laughed lightly.
He frowned. “I’m not sure who had them put in. Perhaps it was Mrs. Garson, the housekeeper.”
“Perhaps,” Sophie said. “It’s a nice touch.”
“I’m glad you like them.” He smiled. “That green dress suits you. It brings out the emerald of your eyes,” John said, gazing at her thoughtfully.
“Oh, thank you.” She already knew it, and that was why she’d worn the dress.
“I’m only telling the truth,” he said. “I hate to say it, but I have business I must attend to tonight. I lost most of today, and we have some major issues going on at work.”
“Oh, yes,” Sophie answered stupidly. She felt bereft for a moment, but hadn’t she spent months of nights alone now or with only Maya for company? Sophie was used to it. An engagement and marriage of convenience likely would change little.
“Does that upset you?” John asked, watching her face. “You won’t be along here.”
“No, of course not. I can find plenty to occupy myself with—unpacking my things for one and checking on Maya.”
“Oh, one other thing. My father is too ill to join us for dinners these days, but he will want to meet you shortly.” John finished his glass of wine.
“I see.” Sophie felt a frisson of nerves at the thought. She wondered if she would meet the expectations for the wife that the man had envisioned for his heir.
“I think it will go best if you meet him alone—without me.”
“Are you certain?” Sophie said, gripping her fork tightly.
“I am. He’s cantankerous, but he’s always disarmed by a lovely woman.” John winked.
“That’s...reassuring, I guess. Well, lead the way, then.” She took a deep breath, willing herself to meet yet another person, and this one, a man who held sway over the rest of her life by the stroke of a pen.
* * * *
They stood outside the patriarch’s door on the third floor. “There’s an elevator just over here—installed for my father a few years ago. It goes to all floors, and you are welcome to use it if you should ever need to or want to,” John said.
“Oh, I’m sure that’s helpful for him and thank you,” Sophie said, wishing fervently that she weren’t facing the old man alone.
“I’ll see you before bed if I might come by your room to tell you goodnight later on,” John said.
“Of course.” Sophie’s heart thumped an extra beat at the thought.
“It will be by 10:30,” he said and touched her cheek before turning away. “I’m a night owl, unfortunately, and that’s the earliest I can force myself into bed.” He chuckled. “Good luck with dear old dad. Just be yourself. He’s expecting you, and he’ll love you.” John gave her a solemn look that made her question his words.
Sophie gulped and squared her shoulders as she pushed the bedroom door open.
Chapter Four
“Who is it?” The old man in the bed asked in a loud voice.
“I’m Sophie Banister —your son John’s fiance.” Sophie walked slowly into the room, her legs shaky. She felt like a nervous schoolgirl before a harsh headmaster.
“Ah, yes. I’ve been waiting for you.” He took a deep, rasping breath. “Well, come closer, girl. He finally found himself a woman and from the big city of Chicago at that. I’m Thaddeus Granger.” He motioned toward her with a wizened hand. He was a shriveled figure, but his eyes blazed even from a distance.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Sophie said, sitting in a bedside chair. The room was dark with plaid print at the predominant décor. The shades were drawn, and a bedside lamp threw the only weak light over the scene.
“My John found himself an Irish lass, I see.” Thaddeus Granger laughed with gusto, studying her.
“I am half Irish, sir,” she said, feeling like a thoroughbred horse he was sizing up.
“Good. Good! We are as well. Scottish the rest of the way, of course.” He winked. “And how do you like it here so far?”
“The house is lovely, and South Dakota is cold but lovely. It’s my first time here,” Sophie said.
“A good description.” Thaddeus Granger coughed for a moment. “Excuse me. I’m poorly, as you know.”
At that moment, a knock sounded on the door.
“Who is it? I’m busy.” The words were a deep growl.
“Carla, sir.”
His tone softened. “Come in, then.”
The girl walked in without a sound. She was even more lovely than when Sophie had first seen her. She was wearing her hair down now, and she had a touch of blush and lipstick on. “How are you feeling? Is there anything I can get you before bed, Mr. Granger?”
The old man smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “Alas, no. Nothing that would be proper at the moment, dear.”
Sophie felt a blush start at her chest. Was he flirting with Carla? Why was she here? She was the nanny, but perhaps she also had a role in caring for the old man.
“Alright. Would you like me to check in on you later?” She stepped closer to the bed.
“Yes, that would be nice,” Thaddeus said, a lecherous smile on his face.
Sophie suppressed a shudder. The whole interaction was very strange. The man was old enough to be
