Modern Romance January 2020 Books 5-8. Heidi Rice

estate was a big enough step, siring an heir was a giant leap he wasn’t sure he was ready to even consider. Yet. He gave one of his carefully rationed smiles. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to help me with that?’

      Her cheeks burned a fire-engine red and her plump rosy lips flattened to a thin disapproving line. ‘No.’ Her tone was as starchy as a prim Victorian Sunday schoolteacher’s.

      ‘Only joking.’ It was no joking matter but he refused to think about having a child. Hadn’t he done enough damage with his brother?

      Layla shifted her gaze, but he noticed her small white teeth resumed their savaging of her lower lip. ‘I need to get back to help Aunt Elsie with something.’ Her voice was not much more than a mumble.

      ‘I need your final answer, Layla. Tonight, if possible. There are legal documents to arrange before we—’

      ‘I’ll see you tonight. At dinner.’

      Logan nodded in agreement. ‘It’s a date.’

      It had been a heck of a long time since he’d had one of those.

      Layla sat with her great-aunt at the Bellbrae kitchen table half an hour later with a pot of tea and freshly baked cupcakes.

      ‘You’re not eating,’ Aunt Elsie said, pushing the tiered cake stand closer. ‘Is something on your mind?’

      Layla took a cake from the stand and peeled the polka-dotted paper case off the cupcake. ‘I’m not sure how to tell you this…’ she began.

      Her great-aunt paused in the action of sipping her tea, her light blue gaze wide with interest. ‘You’ve met someone?’

      Layla only just resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. ‘No. It’s a little more complicated than that.’ She took a deep breath and added, ‘Logan’s asked me to marry him.’

      Her great-aunt’s cup gave a tiny rattle as she placed it back in its saucer. ‘And what was your answer?’

      Layla wasn’t sure what to make of her great-aunt’s mild expression. ‘Aren’t you surprised he proposed to me?’

      Aunt Elsie reached for the teapot and topped up both of their cups with the rich brew. She placed the teapot back on its heat protector before responding. ‘Not one bit surprised. He’s known you since you were a wee child. He’s watched you grow up into a fine young woman. You’ll be a good wife for him. Loyal and steady and stable.’ She peered at Layla over the top of her bifocals. ‘You said yes, didn’t you?’

      Layla nibbled at one side of her mouth. ‘I’m still deciding…’

      Aunt Elsie sat back in her chair, lifted the little milk jug to pour some into her tea and then set the jug back down on the table. ‘You’d be mad to refuse, my girl. He’s a good man. A bit on the quiet side but you don’t want a husband who talks more than he listens. He’ll take good care of you.’

      Layla broke off a piece of cupcake with her fingers. ‘He only wants to stay married for a year to secure the estate. If he doesn’t marry within three months, Bellbrae will automatically pass to Robbie.’ She put the small portion of cake in her mouth, chewed and swallowed, continuing to gauge her great-aunt’s reaction.

      Aunt Elsie stirred her tea into a small whirlpool, glancing at her again. ‘I know about Angus’s will. He told me before he died.’

      Layla frowned. ‘And you didn’t try and change his mind?’

      Aunt Elsie sighed and picked up her cup again. ‘There isn’t a person alive or dead who could change that man’s mind. Angus was frustrated Logan hadn’t moved on from losing Susannah. Sure, he has casual lovers occasionally but his grandfather wanted him to settle down and do the right thing by Bellbrae. If marrying you is the only way Logan can see fit to do it, then so be it. You love this place and you love him.’ She made a toast of her last words by taking a sip of her tea.

      ‘Excuse me.’ Layla gave a choked laugh. ‘Not like that!’

      Aunt Elsie arched her eyebrows. ‘Are you sure?’

      Growing up, Layla had idolised Logan from afar. He had been a romantic fantasy any teenage girl would have drooled over. But it was a bit of a leap to describe her feelings now as love, or at least that sort of love. Although…that tiny secret smouldering coal inside her was still there waiting, waiting, waiting for enough oxygen to fan it into life.

      Layla looked down at the cake crumbs on her plate and expelled a long breath. ‘It wouldn’t matter how I felt about him. It’s not going to be a proper marriage.’ She pushed the crumbs into a neat pile and then glanced back at her great-aunt. ‘It will be on paper only.’

      Aunt Elsie’s eyes began to twinkle like they were auditioning for a new constellation in the northern hemisphere. ‘Of course it will.’

      Layla gave an eye roll and stood to take her plate and cup and saucer to the sink. Her great-aunt was suffering a massive delusion if she thought Logan would be remotely interested in sleeping with her. She had seen photos of Logan’s casual lovers. She had seen his fiancée Susannah in the stunningly beautiful and unscarred flesh.

      How could she ever hope to compete with that?

       CHAPTER THREE

      LATER THAT EVENING Layla fed Flossie and let her out for a comfort walk. When she got back, the old dog began to snore almost as soon as she settled back in her wicker basket in front of the fire in Angus’s study a few doors away from the kitchen. There was a pet door in one of the back doors off the kitchen, but Flossie was too arthritic these days to get through it.

      It was sad to see the old girl’s decline. Layla had only been at Bellbrae a couple of weeks when Angus McLaughlin had brought Flossie home as a playful and needle-toothed puppy. She had often wondered if he had bought the dog to help her settle in. She had asked him once but he’d dismissed the suggestion in his gruff and off-hand way.

      Layla had spent many a happy time playing with Flossie, brushing her silky coat and taking her on walks about the estate, which had seemed so huge and terrifying when she had first arrived. But with the company of the ebullient puppy it had suddenly become a home. A home she could not imagine losing. Her happiest memories—the only happy memories she possessed—had been crafted and laid down here at Bellbrae.

      Layla was putting the finishing touches to dinner shortly after when Logan strode into the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder and turned back to the pot she was stirring on the cooktop. ‘Dinner won’t be long.’

      ‘Where’s Elsie?’

      Layla put the cooking spoon down on the ceramic spoon rest and turned and faced him, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘I gave her the night off. She hasn’t been doing so much cooking now your grandfather’s no longer with us.’ She waited a beat and added, ‘She knew about the change to his will.’

      Logan frowned. ‘Thoughtful of him to share it with the household help but not with me.’

      Layla pursed her lips. ‘You might think of Aunt Elsie as little more than a humble housekeeper but she has supported your family through every high and low of the last three decades.’ She whipped off her apron and flung it on the benchtop.

      ‘When your mother left when you and Robbie were little, when your father died, when Robbie went off the rails that first time in his teens. And when your grandmother died when you were away at university. Aunt Elsie has cooked and cleaned and consoled everyone, working long hours and forsaking a normal life of her own. Don’t you dare refer to her as just the help.’ Her chest was heaving like she had just run up one of the Bellbrae turrets. Three turrets. Possibly all twelve of them.

      He