A warm Love Bytes welcome to author K.C. Wells joining us today to share an exclusive excerpt of her new release “Roots of Evil”.
Welcome K.C. 🙂
Father cleared his throat. “I don’t believe in wasting time, beating about the bush, and as I came here for a specific purpose, I think it best to… get it out into the open, so to speak.”
Jonathon seemed to have developed a severe case of snakes in his belly, because something was unfolding and writhing in there, leaving him uneasy. He remained silent.
His father took another drink from his cup. “I’d like to begin by sharing a piece of family history of which I am certain you are unaware. In the early 1800s, the manor house’s incumbent at that time was William de Mountford. There were fears that the line would die with him, as he was the sole male and his wife, Ann, seemed unable to bear a child. This situation continued for several years. Then suddenly Ann produced a son, John, and followed him with yet more children, much to the family’s relief.”
Jonathon met Mike’s gaze. Mike’s knitted brows, occasional blink, and grimace spoke of his confusion. Jonathon gave a shrug, equally lost.
“Doubtless, you cannot see how this could possibly relate to you.”
Jonathon bit his lip. “You took the words right out of my mouth.”
That earned him a slight scowl. “Then I will continue. Years later, several diaries were discovered, which cast new light on this situation. It seems William’s father had an illegitimate son, also named John, who had ‘stepped in’ to provide what his half brother could not. There was no chance that this John would ever inherit. And in fact, there is evidence that Ann and John had been involved in a relationship long before her marriage, and that this relationship continued for a great many years after.” Father pursed his lips. “Imagine the scandal if that had all come out at the time.”
“William knew about the affair?” It sounded like the plot of a racy historical romance.
“Strange as this might seem, he appears to have been perfectly content with the situation. The family line remained unbroken, and his half brother took over what must have been an onerous task.” Father wrinkled his nose. “You, more than any other de Mountford, are in the position of truly understanding just how onerous.” He fell silent, his gaze focused intently on Jonathon.
Jonathon stared back at him, nonplussed.
Beside him, Mike let out a snort. “Don’t tell me you haven’t guessed. Seems like you’re not the only gay in the de Mountford closet. Well, apart from Dominic.”
Father coughed. “Yes. Quite.”
Jonathon sagged against the cushions. “Okay, so he was gay, and his brother from another mother did the deed for him so there’d be lots more little de Mountfords. I still don’t see what this has to do with—”
“You have got to be kidding.” Mike sat upright, gaping at Jonathon’s father. “You can’t possibly think Jonathon would agree to that—and if you do, it only goes to prove how little you know of your son.”
Jonathon frowned. “Did I go out at some point and miss several pages of dialogue? Because I’m lost.”
Father gave Mike a wry smile. “I seem to have misjudged you, Mike—if I may call you Mike. You possess a remarkably quick mind. Please, tell me what you think you understand the present situation to be.”
Mike took a long, steadying breath before twisting in his seat to face Jonathon. “What we have here isn’t exactly like what happened back then, but… I think your father has finally realized that this is not a phase, you are gay, and I’m not going away.” Jonathon opened his mouth to speak, but Mike held up his hand. “Let me finish. Because this is where it gets fantastical. Right now, the family is in the same situation. End of the line, and all that. I think he’s proposing that you marry—a woman, mind you—and then close your eyes and think of England. More than once, if you can manage it. While in the background would be me. I’d be there to keep you happy. So to the eyes of the world, there’d be Jonathon de Mountford, plus wifey and whatever children you can produce, and I’d be your secret.”
Jonathon could only stare in stunned silence as he went over Mike’s words. Finally he gaped at his father. “Well? How far off the mark is he?”
Father sighed. “Yes. I have definitely misjudged you, Mike.” He met Jonathon’s wide-eyed stare. “What can I say? To use the vernacular of your generation, he nailed it.”
Jonathon drained his cup and leaned forward. “Then here’s another scenario for you. I marry Mike, we find a surrogate, and bingo—more de Mountfords. Family line goes on.”
His father frowned. “You don’t understand. You can’t just marry anyone. It’s like a… a king marrying a commoner. You need to find a… partner, to use the more modern term, who is at least your equal socially. Someone with good breeding who’ll produce strong, healthy, intelligent children. You would not be blessed with the intelligence and talents you have, were it not for good breeding.”
“I don’t think I’m going to ask a prospective surrogate to undergo a MENSA test, and then look her up in Who’s Who to see if she has an entry.” This was worse than Jonathon had expected.
“You already have someone in mind, don’t you? Someone for him to marry?” Mike’s eyes gleamed. “Well, don’t stop now. You’ve got this far.”
Father arched his eyebrows, then addressed Jonathon. “It’s not as if I’m proposing you should marry a complete stranger. You’ve known Ruth Ainsworth since you were a child. She’s about your age, a little younger perhaps, but the biological clock is ticking.”
Jonathon stilled. “Ruth? Are you telling me Ruth is okay with this idea?”
“Never mind that,” Mike interjected. “It’s 2017, and he’s trying to arrange your marriage like we’re still in the Dark Ages.” He lurched to his feet, his hands clenched at his sides. “Does Jonathon even get a say in this? Or is it a fait accompli?”
For a moment Father stared at Mike in silence. Then his shoulders sagged. “Of course he gets—” He turned his attention to Jonathon. “You get a say in this. You’re an adult. It’s your life. I’m simply trying to preserve what has existed for so many years. And you’re right. I had entirely dismissed surrogacy as an alternative, which is stupid of me, considering how often one sees it in the news.”
Jonathon gave him a rueful smile. “Just checking you weren’t about to establish some draconian measures to make sure you got your way.”
Mike’s eyes were almost bulging. “You… you can smile? After everything he’s said?”
Jonathon could understand Mike’s anger and frustration. He’d also been on the point of exploding—until his father pricked the bubble that was his rage without even knowing he’d done it. “He’s merely made a proposal. I can consider it, can’t I? If my father can admit surrogacy is an alternative, then I can look at his proposal with a clear head.” What he really needed at that moment was to breathe some fresh air—and to prevent Mike from going ballistic.
He got up from the couch and pulled on the faded green velvet rope beside the fireplace. A couple of minutes later, Janet appeared.
“Janet, would you please show my father to his room? I’m sure he’d like to freshen up before lunch.”
“Certainly, sir. Ivy says she’ll serve at twelve thirty, as arranged.”
His father rose to his feet. “That’s an excellent idea. And you two need some time to… digest my suggestions.” He followed Janet from the room.
Mike watched him go, his gaze narrowed. “Yeah,” he said as the door closed quietly behind them. “Because let’s face it, those suggestions are gonna take some chewing to make sure they don’t stick in my throat.”
Jonathon inclined his head toward the door. “Let’s go for a walk.”
He needed to clear his head, and Mike needed to cool down. The brisk November wind would accomplish both.
Roots of Evil blurb
Many consider Naomi Teedle the village witch. Most people avoid her except when they have need of her herbs and potions. She lives alone on the outskirts of Merrychurch, and that’s fine by everyone—old Mrs. Teedle is not the most pleasant of people. But when she is found murdered, her mouth bulging with her own herbs and roots, suddenly no one has a bad word to say about her.
Jonathon de Mountford is adjusting to life up at the manor house, but it’s not a solitary life: pub landlord Mike Tattersall sees to that. Jonathon is both horrified to learn of the recent murder and confused by the sudden reversal of public opinion. Surely someone in the village had reason to want her dead?
He and Mike decide it’s time for them to step in and “help” the local police with their investigation. Only problem is, their sleuthing uncovers more than one suspect—and the list is getting longer…
BUY LINKS:
K.C. Wells started writing in 2012, although the idea of writing a novel had been in her head since she was a child. But after reading that first gay romance in 2009, she was hooked.
She now writes full time, and the line of men in her head, clamouring to tell their story, is getting longer and longer. If the frequent visits by plot bunnies are anything to go by, that’s not about to change anytime soon.
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