Arthur was still looking at Ryan, his eyes sharp. Ryan held his gaze unflinchingly. He wasn’t completely sure whether Arthur had guessed the truth or not, but he wasn’t going to be the one to confirm Arthur’s suspicions.
Finally, Arthur looked back at his son. “Do not be foolish. Getting an heir is not the only reason we want the alliance with the Cadogans. You’re correct: it’s not the Middle Ages. We had it much easier in the Middle Ages. We were respected, we were feared, we had power, we had wealth, because our estates were actually profitable. Now the few of us who have managed to hold onto our ancestral homes and fortune are envied and hated by those who think we’re a thing of the past. Do I need to remind you how many ancestral mansions have been demolished in England in the past century? How much cultural heritage has been lost? How many old families have become irrelevant? The Graysons are still at the top because each generation of our family made sure we remain there. I will not allow you to be the one to ruin us.”
The worst part was, Ryan thought grimly, Arthur actually believed in what he was saying. If he were simply trying to manipulate his son with pretty words about duty, it would have been easier for Jamie to say no to him. But Arthur was clearly passionate about his family and proud of his heritage, and even Ryan felt a twinge of sympathy. He knew Arthur wasn’t lying. The taxes introduced in the twentieth century had directly hit the aristocracy and gentry, making it unviable for them to keep their huge country houses. Considering how many old estates the Graysons had managed to keep and renovate, the maintenance costs alone were probably insane.
Arthur’s voice softened a little. “You’re still young and don’t understand that we can’t always have what we want. Sometimes what we want is irrelevant. Sometimes what we want is impossible.”
Jamie’s expression shattered.
As if sensing weakness, Arthur said, his voice even softer, “I’m willing to forgive your transgression as long as you understand that this—this phase is over. You will not flaunt your…unnaturalness. I do not care what you do in the privacy of your bedroom, but you are to marry Cadogan’s girl.”
To Ryan’s consternation, Jamie didn’t refuse immediately.
“What a touching speech,” a familiar voice said.
Tristan was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a bored look on his face. But it was Arthur’s expression that caught Ryan’s attention. Jamie’s dad paled, his eyes wide as he stared at Tristan. He looked as if he’d just seen a ghost.
Tristan met Arthur’s gaze. “What?” he said softly. “Do I look that much like her?”
His forehead creasing, Ryan glanced between Arthur and Tristan before looking inquiringly at Jamie. Jamie shrugged with a confused frown.
“Yeah, when I was a kid, I was told I was the spitting image of her,” Tristan said amiably. “Except for the eyes, of course.” His blue-green eyes were very cold, contrasting with his pleasant, nice smile. Those eyes were…Fucking hell. They were exactly like Arthur’s, down to their frosty expression. Tristan was the same medium height and build as Arthur.
Realizing where it was going, Ryan stepped closer to Jamie and touched his wrist. Jamie grabbed his hand and squeezed, looking between his father and Tristan. “Dad?”
Arthur didn’t even look his way, his gaze locked on Tristan.
“If I were you, James,” Tristan said. “I wouldn’t listen to a word he says. He’s the worst kind of hypocrite.”
“I’m not a hypocrite,” Arthur said. His voice sounded strange. “Your existence only proves it.”
Tristan smiled brightly. “Oh, you do recognize me! How nice of you, Daddy.”
Arthur flinched.
Jamie squeezed Ryan’s fingers hard, his eyes wide.
“But yeah, I guess you’re right,” Tristan said. “I’m living proof that a Grayson should always ignore irrelevant and inconvenient things.”
“You’re proof that we can’t always have what we want,” Arthur said tonelessly. “And must do what we must.” He cleared his throat, and for the first time ever, Ryan saw Arthur look distinctly uncomfortable. “I did love your mother.”
Tristan’s smile remained firmly in place, though his eyes grew even colder. “I’m sure it comforted her while she died alone, with only a five-year-old for company.” His smile was practically blinding now. “And I sure felt the love when I spent three days with her dead body until the neighbors complained about the smell and called the authorities.”
Arthur’s face was a little green. He kept swallowing convulsively.
“Enough, Tristan,” Zach said in a low voice. Ryan hadn’t even noticed him appear behind his boyfriend—perhaps because most of Ryan’s attention was on Jamie, who still had a deathly grip on his hand.
“But I just started,” Tristan said with a grin that was only a little shaky.
Zach’s arms came up and pulled Tristan back against his chest. “He isn’t worth it,” he said, kissing Tristan’s temple. He added something in a quieter voice and Tristan relaxed, the ice in his eyes melting.