There wasn’t another way and he knew it. “I don’t know.”
Brooks’s expression softened as he looked at Carson. “This isn’t the kind of thing Mom raised us to do, I know, but her memory demands vengeance. If you don’t want our mother’s blood money, funnel it into the hospital. Buy equipment that will save children’s lives, if that’s what helps you sleep at night. But it’s happening and you need to get used to the idea. We’re going to get our pound of flesh from Winchester.”
* * *
Georgia was surprised by a voice mail from Sutton at the office when she returned from lunch. She thought that he was meeting with the Newport brothers today, but the message indicated he was calling her from home. He wanted to speak with her and give her his donation check personally. If she was available, he would send a car to pick her up.
She had no idea where the Winchester home was, but she was pretty sure the “L” didn’t go there, so she made arrangements with his secretary to be picked up within the hour.
She knew she’d made a promise to Carson that she would tell him when she went to see Sutton, but it would have to wait until tomorrow. He would be tied up with his brothers and their scheming, she had no doubt, and tonight she was spending time with her mother. She was leaving in the morning for Detroit, and Georgia was planning to make a special dinner.
It took quite a while to get out to Sutton’s estate, but when she arrived, she was stunned by the extravagance of it all. Large iron gates protected the winding driveway that led to the giant gray mansion. It sprawled on forever, easily housing twenty people or more instead of the five Winchesters she knew about.
The driver circled the courtyard fountain and pulled up to the front steps. He opened the door and let Georgia out. An older man in a suit was waiting for her at the entrance.
“Miss Adams,” he greeted her with a polite smile. “I am Christopher, the butler. Mr. Winchester is expecting you.”
“I thought Mr. Winchester would be in the office today,” she said.
“Normally he would be, but he’s not feeling well.”
Georgia followed Christopher up the marble staircase to the second floor of the mansion. They headed toward a set of double doors at the end of the hallway. “Are we going to his office?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. He’s not well enough to leave his bed today. You’ll be meeting with him in the master suite.” Christopher pushed open the double doors and moved ahead.
She wasn’t too keen on the idea of being in Sutton Winchester’s bedroom, but it was too late to do anything about it. As she looked around, it hardly seemed like a bedroom anyway. It was almost like an apartment in itself with its own seating area, dressing area, a desk and a wall of French doors that led out to a private balcony overlooking the pool and tennis courts. Up ahead, another set of doors led to the bedroom itself.
Christopher opened the second set of doors. “Mr. Winchester, Miss Adams is here to see you.”
“Good, send her in. And have some tea sent up.”
Christopher disappeared, leaving Georgia alone in Sutton’s bedroom. The minute she laid eyes on him, however, all her worries disappeared. This was not a man luring her here for seduction.
He looked even more sunken and thin than he had a few days ago. The circles under his eyes were darker. There was an IV in his hand and some medical equipment tracking his heart rate and other vital signs nearby. An oxygen tube was inserted into his nose and wrapped around his ears.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to rescind my offer to be your lover, Georgia.” He said the words with a smile, but there was no twinkle of amusement in his familiar green eyes.
She couldn’t help her gaze from widening at the sight of him propped up in his bed. “They said you were sick, but this is more than just sick, isn’t it?”
“Unfortunately. Please, have a seat.” Sutton gestured to a chair at his bedside.
“I thought you were meeting with the Newport boys today to talk about the test results.”
“That was the plan, but this damn cancer has other ideas. Eve is handling it.”
“Cancer?”
“That’s what they tell me,” he said with a defeated tone. “Stage IV lung cancer. They haven’t tested yet, but they’re pretty sure it’s spread. Probably to my lymph nodes. My doctor will be trying some things, but this is basically a death sentence. Some people would say it’s long overdue.”
“Does your family know yet?”
Sutton shook his head. “No. The girls know I’m ill, but not to what extent. I’m going to meet with the children in a few days to tell them everything once the plans are finalized. This is a very delicate situation, Georgia, and I need you to promise to keep my illness a secret. You can’t tell anyone, especially Carson. I need to tell them all this in my own way, in my own time.”
Georgia could only nod. Her heart was breaking on the inside for Carson. He’d only learned about his father the day before, and now he was going to lose him before he’d even gotten to know him. It didn’t seem fair that she was getting a second chance with her long-lost parent and he wouldn’t have the same.
A woman arrived in the room with a silver tea service just then. She laid everything out on the nearby nightstand, pouring them both a delicate china cup of hot black tea. She quickly prepared Sutton’s tea as he liked it, then handed him the c
up and saucer with a buttery piece of shortbread on the edge.