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  Built to Last

  © 2019 Camellia Tate. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Chapter One

  Austin

  I stretched my legs out in front of the luxuriously padded airplane seat. I didn’t usually fly first class but, hell, nothing about the trip was exactly usual .

  “Can I take your tray, Mr. Rillington?” the steward asked, stopping at my elbow. I nodded, letting him clear away the remains of dinner. I felt as though I’d been in the air for hours , and yet we were still ages away from our destination.

  At least it gave me time to think. Something I hadn’t had too much of. Not since the phone call from Gallbraith & Callahan that had kicked this whole thing off. When they’d invited me into their offices, I’d been sure they must’ve got the wrong guy. I was no saint, but I’d never been in trouble with the police, let alone needed a meeting with the senior partner of a big New York law firm. I didn’t know much about law, but I knew that was a big deal.

  Mr. Gallbraith had started off by explaining that some distant ancestor - my great-great- great grandfather - hadn’t actually been American, but rather the second son of a fancy English duke .

  I didn’t even know what a duke was .

  Being the second son, he hadn’t inherited the title, or any of the land. Instead, he’d settled in America and started a family. My family.

  My dad had no idea. He passed away three years ago. It would’ve given him a good laugh. My dad never even left North Carolina. He would never have dreamed of going all the way to England.

  According to Mr. Gallbraith, the English line of the Rillington family didn’t have any sons. So when the old Duke of Claxthorpe died, they had to go looking for the next male heir.

  The next male heir was Austin Rillington. Me .

  I thought it was a joke. Something one of my buddies had set up, or maybe even a new reality show. Especially when Mr. Gallbraith said I’d inherited a castle . That was when I got interested in a hurry.

  I saw the pictures. It looked like something out of one of those fairy tale books my sister was always reading. It even had a river, and a walled garden.

  When Mr. Gallbraith said the board of trustees wanted to fly me out to look at the place, I jumped at the chance.

  The NASCAR cup series wouldn’t start again until February, so I had some time to kill.

  I still didn’t know what a duke did . In those books Susie used to read, the lords and ladies sat around sipping tea and eating tiny sandwiches. I figured whoever was in charge of things in England, they probably weren’t prepared for a duke who drove race cars for a living. That was fine by me. I could make their life a little more interesting.

  They’d booked my flights, and organized transport from the airport to Claxthorpe Castle, where I’d be staying for the next three months. Or until I got bored. All I had to do was sit back, relax, and wait for the plane to land.

  Slipping my noise-canceling headphones over my ears, I blocked out everything around me. There were still hours of this flight to go. Maybe I could get some sleep.

  The same steward woke me up to tell me we were beginning our descent. I grinned. One step closer to seeing my inheritance in person . I could hardly wait.

  Sadly, first class didn’t get me through the usual airport song and dance any faster. I thought about telling the guy searching my bags that I was a duke. Maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference, but it would have been fun .

  It took forever. Finally, I had my suitcase in hand and I stepped out into the departure lounge. The trustees had said they’d send a car, so I scanned the middle-aged guys in suits holding up boards and tablets with people’s names on.

  There was nothing for Austin Rillington. I was just about to get out my cell when I spotted her.

  She was standing at the edge of the group, half a head shorter than the men towering over her. Her honey-blond hair was caught up in some kind of knot to one side of her head. The formal white blouse and straight, dark skirt did nothing to hide the perfect curves, or the milky legs leading down to sexy black heels.

  I was totally ready to throw my plans out the window and ask if she wanted to show me around. As I got nearer, my gaze focused on the sign she was holding. ‘Duke of Claxthorpe ’. I grinned.

  “Looking for me, sweetheart?” I asked.

  The look she gave me made it pretty clear that ‘sweetheart’ was not something she wanted to be called. Despite the way she squinted her dark eyes, she still looked stunning .

  “My name’s Rose,” she said. I don’t know why her English accent came as a surprise. I was in England , of course she was going to sound English. “Just follow me, I need to pay for parking and then we can go.”

  She turned, and my eyes dropped immediately to her ass. She definitely had curves in all the right places. Following her was going to be no hardship at all.

  Her heels clicked against the floor as she led the way outside. I paused, wanting to drink in my first experience of England . I’d been warned it would rain most of the time I was here. But the sky was a pale blue and a weak sun was shining. I decided it was a good omen.

  “Are we driving to the castle?” I asked. I hoped it was a nice long drive. That would give me time to get to know Rose, as well as see a little more of the famous English countryside.

  “We are,” she confirmed, much to my delight. Yet, there was no followup. My first impressions of England might be that the place was pretty sunny but the natives didn’t seem very chatty .

  I let her lead us to the car once she had gotten whatever piece of paper was going to let us leave the airport. I had kind of expected the car to be... old. Maybe a Rolls-Royce Phantom but at least a Mini or an Aston Martin. Instead, Rose was driving an almost offensively new Citroën. A French car!

  “Seriously?” I asked. “This is what you pick up a duke in?” I didn’t know exactly what a duke did , but I’d Googled enough to know they were pretty fucking high and mighty. I outranked basically everyone, except the queen and her family.

  If looks could kill, I probably would’ve been struck by lightning right there and then. Whatever Rose was thinking she didn’t voice. It made me wonder if she swore. I’d never heard English people swear. Maybe that was an experience I could look forward to.

  “Just get in the fucking car, Your Grace ,” Rose snapped. I didn’t even know if that was the correct way to address a duke, but presumably she did. Even said with vitriol in her voice, it sounded pretty good.

  Knowing I’d got her riled just made me want to push her more. The way her eyes sparkled and her chest heaved when she was angry gave me images of other ways to get her hot and bothered.

  I strode to the right-hand side of the car, then stopped and raised an eyebrow at her. “Aren’t you going to open the door for me?” I asked. If we’d been in the States, I would’ve opened the door for her . Since we were on her turf, and I was a duke, I was pretty sure she was supposed to do the honors.

  Rose’s eyes very much implied that I was an idiot. It made me wonder how often she got to use that look. It seemed well-practiced. Rather than saying anything immediately, she walked around the car and opened the left-hand door.

  “Unless you’re planning to drive?” She smirked and fuck, that was really attractive, too. It distracted me for a moment from what she’d said. “And before you ask, no, you ca
n’t drive.”

  That was something I needed to fix. There was no way I was going to stay in England for months and never get behind the wheel of a car. Driving was what I lived for. Even if I couldn’t race, at least I could get out and see a bit more of the country.

  “Maybe not now ,” I answered, walking around to the passenger side. I hoped Rose wasn’t going to drive like somebody’s grandmother. She didn’t look as though she would.

  As soon as I got in, I adjusted the seat back. Whoever Rose’s last passenger had been, he or she hadn’t been over six feet tall. I needed more leg-room. “So, how long will it take us to get to my castle?” I asked.

  “It’s not...” she began. Whatever she was going to say seemed to die on her lips. Instead, Rose reached to adjust the address in the SatNav she had hanging from behind the mirror. It seemed weird that she wouldn’t just know how to get there. “The drive’s about an hour once we get out of the city,” she answered.

  That didn’t seem very long at all. I did know that the US was much bigger than the UK. Once Rose had fastened her seatbelt, we set off. In an hour’s time I’d get to see my castle! A real, honest to God English castle.

  Chapter Two

  Rose

  About a hundred years ago my great-grandmother’s cousin married the Duke of Claxthorpe . At the time, the estate was in absolute ruins. There was talk of selling the castle, selling all the lands and the history that went with it. It was my great-grandmother’s family who stepped in. They didn’t want to see the Claxthorpe estate go to waste like so many other great stately homes had .

  An agreement was reached - my family would take Claxthorpe on as a business. We’d open it up to the public, make it into something that preserved the history but also made money .

  And for a hundred years, that’s precisely what has happened.

  Until William Rillington, the 15th Duke of Claxthorpe , passed away with no male heirs. No female heirs either, which was perhaps for the best. That particular can of worms was yet to be opened.

  Having no heirs meant that a search began. Historians and lawyers searched through family trees for an appropriate heir. Until they found one. Legally, it was very questionable what would happen if no one had been found. Personally, I struggled to see how this was better.

  This, of course, being the new Duke. Austin Rillington, the 16th Duke of Claxthorpe . The heir to the Claxthorpe estate. Kind of.

  And that was where things got complicated.

  Yes, Austin Rillington - an American - was inheriting the dukedom, but the estate and the castle were run by my family. They had been for a century and they would continue to be run by us. The previous three dukes had understood. This one just tried to get in my car on the wrong side .

  I didn’t volunteer to pick him up. I would have told him as much, but I had a hard time getting any words out that weren’t swearing. This guy who knew nothing about being a duke was going to waltz in and expect me to call him ‘Your Grace’ and want me to open doors for him? Fuck off.

  Once we set off from the airport, I put the radio on, in hopes that the music and the countryside would distract him. It was in vain. We’d hardly gotten out of the city before the questions started up again.

  “What do you do, Rose?” Austin asked. He shifted in the passenger seat, drawing attention to how his broad shoulders and long legs looked a little ridiculous in my tiny car. He really couldn’t be comfortable, especially after spending hours flying from America. Yet, he looked as if he thought he owned the place.

  It was very hard not to find that annoying. But then, I wasn’t sure if I wasn’t supposed to find it annoying. He was arrogant and basically everything I had known he would be. Giving a dukedom to some randomer was never going to end well.

  “I’m an executive board member for the Claxthorpe estate and one of the general managers,” I answered, taking a turn that would take us to the motorway. I probably could’ve taken one of the smaller roads, the ones that’d wind through the countryside. It’s what I’d do if I wanted to show off how beautiful England could be. But as it was, I just wanted this trip to be as short as humanly possible.

  Austin grinned, like my answer was the best thing he’d ever heard. I was honestly a little surprised he’d understood it. I’d bet good money that someone who drove cars for a living didn’t have a lot to do with executive boards or general managers.

  “So you help look after my castle?” he asked. I didn’t know whether he’d noticed how much it annoyed me when he referred to it as his. Maybe he was just lucky .

  “It’s not your castle!” I managed to finish the sentence this time around. My annoyance was still great, but driving meant that I had to focus on that, too. It was for the best, otherwise I might’ve screamed in his face. It didn’t seem like Austin had bothered to even read the paperwork we’d provided.

  No one was very thrilled about having a new duke, but we kind of needed him. Without a duke, the estate would end up in a legally questionable place. Of course, I had voted for that. It seemed worth taking our chances. Luckily for Austin, I was outvoted.

  And unluckily for me, I was also voted as the one to collect him from the airport.

  “Of course it’s my castle,” Austin argued. He smirked at me, as if he enjoyed the prospect of an argument. I’d met men like him before. Men who would argue their own side even when all the facts were on mine. I scowled, but it didn’t deter him.

  “I inherited the title from the old guy - William, right? That means the castle is mine.” At least he’d read enough to know the name of the duke he was replacing. William had been a nice older gentleman. Someone who’d appreciated the history of his estate. Looking at Austin, the two of them couldn’t be more different.

  It didn’t really matter what Austin thought. The castle wasn’t his. It was under the supervision of an executive board. “I’m guessing you didn’t bother reading the information pack we put together for you, then.” I didn’t ask it as a question because it wasn’t one. Nothing about Austin implied that he could read.

  So far, none of this made me think that Austin would be able to do what we needed him to do. Which, to be fair, was basically nothing . The duke’s job was to attend a few parades, a few fancy dinners and that was it.

  Not think that they owned a castle.

  “I looked at the pictures,” Austin answered, still giving me that same smirk. I focused on the road. It helped me not to say anything I would regret, and not to get distracted by the way Austin’s deep green eyes glittered with amusement.

  “ Claxthorpe Castle,” he recited, “the ancestral home of the Duke of Claxthorpe and his family.” The key word there being ancestral . Austin wasn’t going to live at Claxthorpe , not permanently.

  Before I could point that out, he asked another question. “But you do help look after it? That’s your job?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. I was only twenty-five, but I had been working on the Claxthorpe estate since I was a kid. It was home and always had been. It might not have been in my family for as long as it had been in Austin’s, but unlike Austin, I knew my family’s history.

  Austin hadn’t even known he was related to the Duke of Claxthorpe , much less that he might become one. It was an inherited title, Austin had done nothing to earn it. Unlike my family, who had worked in the Claxthorpe castle to establish it as the tourist attraction it was now.

  “Do you know how much work and money goes into the upkeep of a stately home?”

  Austin shrugged. “No.” He didn’t even sound ashamed of his ignorance. If I had inherited a title and an estate, the first thing I would have done would be to research what that meant.

  “I’m guessing it’s a lot,” he added. At least he wasn’t a total idiot. Even if he was only reading my tone, that had to be better than nothing. “So who pays for that stuff?” he asked. “The lawyers didn’t mention anything about me needing to be loaded.”

  “The estate is self-sufficient,” I answered, with genuine pr
ide in my voice. Everyone had worked really hard to make sure that it was. A lot of investment had gone into it. Just last year we had solar panels installed, so now even our electricity was produced by us. Not that Austin would care .

  I pulled off the motorway. Signs for Claxthorpe castle started to appear as we drove through the windy country lanes. From here on, I knew the roads well. The countryside around us was stunning. Despite seeing it every day, it still took my breath away.

  “Great.” Austin sounded so pleased with himself. It got on my last nerve. He hadn’t had anything to do with the estate’s self-sufficiency, and yet here he was, totally prepared to take credit that he didn’t deserve.

  I said nothing. I couldn’t guarantee I wouldn’t swear at him again. It was better if I held my tongue.

  In the quiet, Austin’s attention moved from me to the window. The pale sunshine made the fields and hills look even greener. I knew that Claxthorpe Castle would look particularly amazing. Even though I didn’t want Austin to enjoy it, I couldn’t help but feel proud. It was a beautiful castle. It should be seen at its best.

  The car crested the hill, giving Austin his first view of the estate he’d been lucky enough to inherit.

  Chapter Three

  Austin

  Claxthorpe Castle was huge, rising from the rounded top of the next hill. It looked almost like it had grown there naturally. Green ivy crept up the grey stone walls, giving them the impression that they were rooted into the ground itself. It had everything I’d expected of a castle - turrets and towers and lawns that spread down the green hill for what must have been miles.

  The closer we drove, the taller the castle loomed over us. Looking up at it took my breath away. All of this was mine. No matter what Rose said. The castle had been home to all the dukes of Claxthorpe before me, and now it was mine.