The Beaumont Children: His Son, Her Secret

The next thing Byron knew, Leona was stomping away from him. Why was she being so damn stubborn?

He had the entire buyout from the sale of the Beaumont Brewery sitting in a bank account, completely untouched. Seventeen million dollars—plus compounded interest—was waiting for him and if he wanted to buy himself a nice house, then damn it, he would.

He thought Leona was just going to cool off in a different room—but then he heard the front door slam.

“Leona!” he yelled, running after her. He got the front door open as she was belting Percy into his seat. “Leona, wait!”

She shot him an incredibly dirty look, but she did not wait. She got into the car and fired it up.

Before Byron could give chase, his phone rang with the tone he’d selected for Matthew. What the hell... He had to talk to Matthew. If anyone could fix this mess that Byron kept making worse, it was his older brother. So, with a groan of frustration, he let Leona go.

“Yeah,” he said.

“For the love of God, tell me you’re not backing out of the restaurant.” Byron could almost see Matthew pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

The Realtor poked her head out. “Is everything okay?” she asked, as if the answer wasn’t obvious. “Did your wife change her mind about the house?”

“Hang on,” Byron said. Then, to Sherry, he said, “No, we’ll still take the house. But I have an important—and private—call to take, if you don’t mind.”

The Realtor’s eyes lit up with commissioned dollar signs. “Oh, of course! I’ll be inside.”

Byron waited until the door shut. “No, I’m not backing out of the restaurant. And hello to you, too. Where the hell have you been? I called you three days ago!”

“You didn’t say it was an emergency and Chadwick didn’t call in a panic, so I figured it could keep. I unplugged for a couple of days.”

“Since when do you unplug in the middle of the damned week? I thought you were always working.”

“Not always. Not anymore.” Something in his voice changed. “I took a trip with Whitney. We got married.”

Byron was almost too stunned to speak. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” was the terse reply.

“Well, congratulations, man. I would have come out for it.”

“I know. But we wanted to keep it quiet.”

Byron snorted. Usually, Matthew was all about maintaining the family image—public relations was his thing. But he’d gone and fallen in love with former wild-child star Whitney Wildz who, in real life, was a very private woman named Whitney Maddox. Matthew would do anything to protect her from the paparazzi. Including, apparently, getting married in complete secrecy.

“Did you at least tell Mom? You know she’ll be heartbroken if you got married without telling her.”

There was a short pause before Matthew said, “I flew her out for it. She was our witness.”

“Good.” And it was. Their mother had had enough heartbreak in her life. Byron didn’t want to add to it. Still, the fact that Matthew had seen fit to invite their mother but not Byron or Frances stung, if only a little.

“So, yes,” Matthew went on, “I am capable of unplugging for a little honeymoon with my wife. She’s working with a horse, and I’ve got an hour to deal with the priority issues. If you’re not bailing on the restaurant, what’s up?”

Okay, so even if Matthew had gotten married without telling Byron, at least he was still a priority. “I have a problem.”

“I’m listening.”

Was there any good way to say this? Probably not. “You remember how I wanted you to invite Leon Harper to Phillip’s wedding reception?”

“And his family, if I recall correctly. A request that struck me as so odd that I looked into Harper a little more. Apparently he has two daughters.” Matthew sounded as if this were no big deal.

“And you remember how I went to Europe for a year?”

“Paris and then Madrid, yes. Are you telling me these two facts are connected?”

Byron kicked at a pebble in the driveway. He just had to get this out. It was his mess, but he needed help cleaning it up. “Three days ago, I discovered that Leona Harper—Harper’s oldest daughter—gave birth to my son about six months ago. His name is Percy.”

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line—a silence that lasted more than a few moments.

Byron couldn’t take it. He plunged ahead. “I’ve asked her to move in with me and—”

“Into the mansion?” Matthew spluttered. “Are you insane? A Harper living in the Beaumont Mansion?”

“As I was going to say before I was interrupted,” Byron said, trying not to snap at his brother, “I’m buying a house for us. And I’ve asked her to marry me. For our son’s sake.”

Again, there was another painful silence. “Jesus, Byron,” Matthew finally muttered. “I’d have thought, after our father left bastards scattered to the four winds, that you would have been a little more careful than that.”

The condom failure from last night popped into his mind. “I was careful. But sometimes things don’t work like they’re supposed to. I need a prenup. We have to get married as soon as possible to make sure her father can’t declare her incompetent and take my son away.”

“No,” Matthew replied flatly. “You absolutely cannot marry her. She’s Harper’s daughter for God’s sake! Frances didn’t tell me the details, but she made it pretty clear that someone had broken your heart and that’s why you left.”

“I am well aware of what happened. But I am not leaving any bastards to be scattered to the winds. He’s my son and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way. Even marry a Harper.”

“Are you into pain or something? You enjoy being Harper’s punching bag? Because if you tie your horse to his wagon, that’s all you’re ever going to be,” he groaned in exasperation again. “I don’t think there’s a prenup in this world strong enough to stand up to Harper’s sharks. He could use you to take down the entire family. He already took our business from us, Byron.”

“I know that,” Byron snapped.

“Oh, for God’s sake. Just take the boy. Legally, I mean. She didn’t tell you about the baby, I take it?”

“No, but I’m not going to—”

“So we’ll sue for full custody on the grounds that she’s unfit to be a mother. And for the love of everything holy, do not sleep with her again.”

Byron winced. He couldn’t bring himself to deny it, but he couldn’t confirm it, either.

“You already have, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Matthew let out a long, low growl of pure frustration. “Did you at least use protection?”

“We did. It failed. Again.”

There was a noise in the background that could have been Matthew kicking or throwing something. “You have got to be freaking kidding me. Come on, Byron! Stop thinking with your dick for once!”