Chapter 16
Declan
Iparkedmycar in Grosvenor Square and walked up the steps to the three-story Edwardian home overlooking the park, where, as a boy, I kicked a ball around with Ethan.
As I entered the kitchen that overlooked the backyard, I found Ethan by the espresso machine.
“Are you here alone?” I asked.
“Yep.” He rubbed his head.
“A big night?”
“You could say that.” He pressed a button and black liquid spluttered out. “Do you want one?” He lifted a demitasse.
I shook my head and opened the fridge for a bottle of water.
“So why are you here?” he asked.
“I’m meeting Carson, an army mate.” I stared down at my watch. “I just dropped in to get a book I left behind.”
“You’re really going ahead with it then?” He placed the little cup to his mouth.
“Yep. The builders have started.”
“Mummy’s not happy.” Ethan leaned against the wooden cupboards of that large kitchen big enough to cater for five hundred guests.
“It’s hard to make Mother happy, save us marrying royalty,” I said.
“That’s not happening with me. I’ve got a thing for the unwashed.”
I looked at my brother and shook my head. “That can get a bit smelly.”
“Yeah. Nice.”
I chuckled and rolled my eyes. “You’re sick.”
He shrugged. “It beats inbreeding.”
“So you’re looking at siring a child soon?” I headed for the living room.
He followed me, sipping his coffee. “Are you kidding? I’m too young to become a father.”
“You’re thirty. Dad was twenty when he married.” I grabbed my book on organic agribusiness from the coffee table.
“What about you? You’re thirty-two,” he returned.
“Haven’t met the right girl.” My eyes rested on the sofa that Theadora had fallen asleep on that night.
Ethan inclined his head. “You seem to have a fondness for busty housemaids the last time I looked.”
“Theadora’s her name,” I said. “Don’t refer to her as an object.”
“Ooh… it’s like that, is it?” His smirk faded into a look of curiosity. “Have you fucked her yet?”
“Although it’s none of your business, I haven’t.”
“But you want to. I can tell.” He raised a brow.