Saving The Pirate (Book Two)

17. Daddy Issues

I know what you're probably imaging - a dungeon, chains on the wall, maybe?

I know that's what I was thinking of when we came in. I even thought there might be a demon or something sitting in the chair, just waiting for us to enter before scaring us down to our very core, but that was not the case.

Instead of chains, there was wallpaper, and instead of a demon, it was only a man, a man that was working on paperwork when we came in.

He didn't even look up.

"Thank you, Tristan, you may go now, " he said sternly.

Tristan gave us a thumbs up before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him, and it was only Christopher and me left in the room with the man that could potentially kill us.

I hoped not.

"Welcome back, son, " Lord Taylor said, finally looking up. His green eyes instantly found Christopher's, giving him an acknowledging nod.

And then they drifted to me.

I bit my cheek.

"And who is this?" Lord Taylor asked, raising a bushy brow.

He had the same frame as Christopher, tall and sturdy, but was slim, being of old age.

Christopher resembled him in many ways, I noticed, having the same sophisticated and intelligent ways, as well as the same cold look they both had.

They were father and son - they were the same.

"Father, " Christopher said, beaming. "This is Anne Rachels, the woman I am courting. And Anne, my father."

I curtsied immediately, nervous about what might come next, but nothing came. Lord Taylor just nodded.

"Welcome, then. I hope you find my estate and my son well. I'm very proud of both."

From the corner of my eye, I watched Christopher thin his lips.

I smiled, hoping I could bring ease into the silent room, but there was no need, Christopher filled the silence for me.

"Yes, the estate is holding up well, these days. I see you took my suggestions on redecorating."

Lord Taylor nodded.

"Yes, I always consider your suggestions, Christopher."

Awkward.

"But enough of that. You two must be famished. Tristan will show you go to your rooms in the west wing. Then, you can come down and have dinner, " Lord Taylor said, looking directly at his son.

Christopher, being his natural, witty self, smiled devilishly.

"Thank you, Father. Will you be joining us?"

"I'm afraid not, son. I have work to catch up on."

Christopher scoffed. "Of course. Can't get away from work, can you?"

Lord Taylor's lips thinned. "The company needs me. I must never rest. You know this, Christopher."

"Indeed, I do. Excuse us. We must wash up."

Taking my arm without even acknowledging me, Christopher led me out of the room. Just as he opened the door, I looked back at Lord Taylor.

He was watching us go and connected eyes with me as I turned my head.

I knew what he must have felt. He missed his son, and it didn't help that Christopher was acting the way he did around him. Lord Taylor wanted to make up with his son.