Regret spiked through him. “I meant I don’t plan to contest the will anymore.”
Her crestfallen expression told him she’d noticed he’d sidestepped her question. The silence that followed weighed on him.
“You mean you don’t plan to contest the will, but you still think that Lincoln wasn’t of sound mind when he named me his heir and co-owner of DuBois Enterprises—when he claimed me as his daughter?”
The tremor in her voice made every muscle in his body clench tight. He approached her, grasping her shoulders.
“Listen to me,” he said with quiet intensity. “I’ve told you how much Lincoln wanted a family. Am I surprised that he latched on to you as his daughter—the child of the one woman he’d always loved, Brigit Kavanaugh? A beautiful, smart, vibrant woman? No. That makes perfect sense to me.”
“But you still think he was demented for believing I was his daughter and leaving me half his company?”
He clamped his eyes shut and then opened them, having trouble meeting her gaze. “When I first read that letter? Yes. Maybe I still do a little, to be honest. You haven’t seen the letter—it’s barely intelligible, disorganized...touching, but in a completely unrealistic, childlike way.”
“Unrealistic?” Deidre repeated flatly.
“I thought he was letting wishful thinking rule him instead of rationality. He had no proof you were his daughter but your story. You have no business experience. What’s more, you’d told him point-blank you didn’t want to run DuBois Enterprises,” he said, desperate to make her understand.
“That was very convenient for you, wasn’t it?” she asked. Through her narrowed lids, Nick saw the glassiness of her eyes. “I said I know nothing about business and am literally blown away by the news that I’m Lincoln’s coheir, and you establish that without a doubt, I shouldn’t have been given controlling interest in Lincoln’s company because I said a few times—as a consequence of shock and sheer ignorance—that I didn’t want the job.”
“Your saying you didn’t want the responsibility wasn’t the only thing I was thinking about,” Nick rasped. “Lincoln knew you had no business experience whatsoever. He also didn’t know you were his daughter. But that’s not the point.”
Her eyes flashed in anger. “What is the point then, Nick? You seem so clear on the whole matter. Please, grant me some of your infinite wisdom,” she bit out sarcastically. “Why can’t you just admit that you planned to contest the will all along?”
“Because it’s not true! That’s not how I viewed things, Deidre. I was ruling things out as I went along. I only planned to make decisions once I had crucial information. I needed to know if you truly were Lincoln’s daughter, I needed to be sure of the fact that you hadn’t coerced him in any way—”
“And if you established that both of those things were true, you could always fall back on the allegation that Lincoln wasn’t of sound mind,” Deidre shouted, startling him. She twisted out of his hold and walked toward the fireplace, abruptly turning to face him. His heart seized in his chest. Her expression was shattered. “You never wanted Lincoln to accept me as his daughter. You never did,” she cried out.
“That’s not true—”
“It is true,” she said, sounding slightly hysterical. “What must have gone through your mind when I showed up at The Pines, saying I was Lincoln’s natural daughter? All those years you spent proving yourself to Lincoln and everyone in his company, all those years being everything to Lincoln. And you were everything...everything but...” she bit out emphatically, her eyes a little wild.
He knew she was fighting instinctively, like a wounded animal, but anger pierced through his anxiety that she’d chosen that particular insult to throw in his face.
Another glance at her and his fury was gone. Tears were rushing down her cheeks now, but Nick felt helpless to stop or comfort her. Her hurt and confusion seemed too thick to breach.
“Everything but Lincoln’s natural child,” Deidre finished in a hoarse whisper. She tilted her chin up defiantly, but her eyes were wells of pain. “You considered Lincoln to be demented for believing I was his daughter...a wishful old fool.”
“Listen to me,” he spoke quietly, trying desperately to penetrate her distress. “You didn’t read the letter. It was odd...disjointed. He insinuated in it that you and I could have the future that Brigit and he never had.”
Dread filled him when her expression turned incredulous.
“Deidre, wait—”
“That was your proof that he was a madman? That you and I might find something together?” she asked, wide-eyed with shock.
“No! That’s not what I meant at all.” He cursed under his breath in profound frustration.
“You did think it!” she accused.
“What if I did, in the beginning?” he boomed, frustration overwhelming him. “You probably would have thought something similar if you read that letter soon after he’d died. It doesn’t matter what I thought then. I’m not going to contest the will. I don’t give a damn whose daughter you are or aren’t. Deidre? Are you listening to me?” he asked when she continued to stare at him like he was invisible.
“Lincoln wasn’t a fool,” she said as if he hadn’t spoken. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. Her chin fell to her chest and she took a long inhale. “I may have been one for getting involved with you in these...absurd circumstances, but Lincoln wasn’t a fool,” she repeated under her breath. Her shoulders slumped as if in sudden fatigue.
“Deidre?” he prompted, concern swamping him. “I’ve told you from the beginning that what’s between us is separate from the legalities of Lincoln’s will.”
She looked up slowly, the anguished defiance he saw in her eyes cutting him to the quick. “How can you stand there and say that to me with a straight face?”
“Because it’s true. Lincoln has nothing to do with how we feel about each other. DuBois Enterprises doesn’t have anything to do with how we feel about each other. Deidre?” he prompted sharply. He had the strangest feeling he was talking to her across an enormous, mile-deep canyon and that she was only hearing the echo of every third word he spoke.