Marrying Mr. English: The English Brothers #7 (The Blueberry Lane Series Book 11) by Katy Regnery Page A

alone with my grandson now.”
    Cheeks burning, she disengaged her hand from Tom’s and stood up. Her pocketbook, which had been resting on her lap, slid to the floor with a plop. She bent over to pick it up, fumbling with trembling fingers to pull it over her shoulder. Suddenly she felt Tom’s comforting hand on her arm, helping her up and walking her to the door.
    “You did great,” he whispered, though his eyes were flinty and flat. “Wait for me outside, okay?”
    She nodded at him, trying not to cry.
    She hadn’t done great.
    That much was clear.
    ***
    “She’s a looker, but is she also a hooker?”
    Tom turned from the door to face his grandfather with barely restrained fury. The old man had done everything short of blatantly insulting Eleanora to her face, and Tom had never felt so angry with anyone in his life. “What the hell is the matter with you?”
    “Is she?”
    “No! She’s a waitress!”
    “Humph. Regardless, she’s not at all what I had in mind for you.”
    “Be that as it may, she’s my wife .”
    “Ha! Your wife! What a joke. She’s cheap goods, is what she is. You met the girl five minutes ago, Thomas.”
    “That’s enough!” Tom slapped his palms on his grandfather’s desk, leaning over the dark mahogany to sneer at him. “Not only did I play by your rules, old man, but she’s a better woman than any I’ve ever known. I’m lucky to be with her, and if anyone is cheap goods here, it’s you, out of line with your cheap, below-the-belt shots.”
    “A Vegas wedding to a common waitress with no family, no education, no breeding.” Tom’s grandfather narrowed his eyes, sitting back in his desk chair and tenting his fingers under his chin. “You think you outsmarted me, boy? You didn’t. You know as well as I do that you’re thumbing your nose at my rules. But you’re young, and you’ve always been a little impulsive, so I’ll give you a chance to make things right. Annul this sham of a marriage and I will give you six more months to find someone appropriate before I cut you off.”
    Tom lifted his hands from the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. His grandfather gestured toward his office door with his chin.
    “But I will require that she return to Colorado and you remain in Philadelphia, Thomas. So don’t think you can annul the marriage and still have your cheap piece of ass on the side.” He raised his bushy eyebrows. “So? What do you say? More than fair, eh?”
    “What do I say?” Tom took a deep breath and tried to steady his voice, but it was still lethal. “I say, I’ll take my chances with her. I say, Keep your goddamn money. I don’t want it. I say, I choose her.” He turned around and strode across the office toward the door.
    “Now, Thomas,” the old man blustered, leaning forward to stand up.
    “Forgive me, Grandfather,” said Tom, turning the doorknob before he faced his aging relative one last time, “but go to hell.”
    Slamming the office door shut behind him, Tom looked right and left down the hallway, but Eleanora was nowhere to be seen.
    “Eleanora?” he called.
    “Psssht! Tom!” Susannah peeked out of the front parlor with a feather duster in her hand, beckoning him to come closer. “She left.”
    “She lef—wait. Why?”
    Susannah winced. “I’m afraid your grandfather’s office door wasn’t closed very tightly. The whole house heard what he had to say about her.”
    Tom grimaced, clenching his eyes shut for a moment and taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm his fury. “Where’d she go?”
    “She raced out the front door.” Susannah offered Tom a sympathetic smile. “Bet you can still catch her.”
    “Thanks, Susannah,” said Tom, racing for the door and swinging it open. He paused on the front steps of the mansion for a moment and spotted her—a speck in the distance at the end of the long gravel driveway, almost at the gatehouse.
    “Eleanora!”
    Tom took off at a sprint, but she didn’t slow down. She