For a Father's Pride Read Online Free PDF

the kitchen. Poor baby – he had done nothing wrong; he just hadn’t been wanted. She placed him next
to the sink and unwrapped the blanket slowly. The child was still warm; he was a good size, with a tuft of black hair, bless him. At least she could wash him before burying him in the orchard, in
an unmarked grave, unbeknown to anyone other than herself and Tom.
    She filled the sink with warm water and picked the baby up, gently placing him in the water and washing him gently. Did he move? Had she imagined it? No, there it was again. His arm moved and
his mouth began to make movements, his little eyes screwed up, wrinkling at the warmth of the water. He was alive! He made a silent cry and opened his dark eyes, staring at the woman who had nearly
buried him.
    ‘By God, man, if tha doesn’t make this right, I’ll ruin you. I’ll tell every dealer – every farmer for miles around – what an underhand
bastard you are! Your reputation will be ruined.’ Tom Fraser held Clifford Middleton by the throat, at the side of Grouse Hall.
    Clifford grinned at the old man, whom he was finding surprisingly strong for his age. ‘You can’t hurt me. She was asking for it, your precious Daisy, not like her useless sister
– Kitty’s never going to give me an heir; useless in bed, she is. Tell whoever you want. Money talks, and it won’t be long before all this farm is mine, and then I’m
off.’ Clifford grinned at the angry old man.
    Tom Fraser lifted his free hand and made a fist, ready to come down hard onto the grinning face, but stopping inches from his nose. ‘You’ve no scruples, have you, you bastard? By
God, I should make you greet your maker. But I can’t, for you’re my daughter’s husband, and father to the baby that will soon be in the world. You want an heir? Well, you’ve
got one. When that baby is born, you’ll take it into your house and bring it up as your own. You’ll not tell Kitty where it’s come from – you can have found it, or taken
pity on a penniless woman in need. But if you ever tell her the truth while your father’s alive, I’ll get his solicitor to witness what I tell him; and by God, if that baby lives,
he’ll make it the rightful heir of Grouse Hall. Everyone knows there’s no love lost between you both. In fact, to keep your father’s life safe, I’ll see my solicitor in the
morning and tell him of our conversation tonight.’ Tom watched as the grin disappeared from the cocky Clifford.
    ‘You bastard, let me go.’ Clifford gripped Tom’s arm and wrenched it off him. ‘I don’t want to keep the runt. You wouldn’t dare say a word to my
father.’
    ‘Try me!’ Tom walked away from Clifford’s side and made steps towards the garden gate.
    ‘Wait, you old bastard! Send word when the runt’s born, and I’ll take it in.’ Clifford thought quickly of all the debts he was amassing in the Dales. He couldn’t
live without his father’s inheritance.
    ‘Right, I’ll send word. It’ll not be bloody long now, by the looks of her, so you’d better get ready. Tell our Kitty I’ll see her on market day. I’m in no
mood to talk to her tonight.’ Tom reached over and took the reins of his horse, which had been waiting patiently, and rose up into the saddle. ‘This is a gentleman’s agreement.
Not that you are any gentleman, sir!’ He whipped his horse and rode down the road into the dusk, his hatred for the man he thought no gentleman growing with every yard towards home that he
galloped.
    Martha Fraser looked at the baby, now wrapped tightly in a blanket. She’d not yet told Daisy of his miraculous recovery. She held him close to her: this was her
grandchild, her blood. A tear dropped on the baby’s head. She held the perfect little hand and gazed at the angry red face.
    ‘She’s had it, then?’
    Martha jumped in fright, for she’d not heard Tom enter the kitchen.
    ‘Aye, she’s had a rough time, but we’ve got a grandson – look at him.’ She