Persuading Him: A Modern Persuasion Retelling (Pemberley Estates Book 1) Read online

  "It won't be as intimidating to the boys and it would be easier to set up."

  "Hmmm," was Mary's non-committal reply, but she leaned closer, going over the specifications. Anne smiled to herself. Mary might change her mind after all.

  "How goes the packing for the big trip?" Anne asked after a minute of silence.

  Mary hunched her shoulders and a snarl swept over her face. "We're not going."

  Chapter 7

  Anne dropped her mouth open in shock. "Not going? But, didn't you get the tickets?"

  Mary slammed her hands on the desk, causing a stack of notebooks to tumble to the ground. "You don't think I know that? All that money I had to fight to get refunded? I told Charles we were committed, that he can't make other plans, but what does he do? Tell some high and mighty corporate snob that he was completely free during that time? That the snooty fellow could come this week, during my vacation! My anniversary vacation! What did Charles expect me to do? Go by myself? On an anniversary trip he promised me last year? While he tries to sell his stupid invention to some mindless company who wouldn't buy it anyway, just like the last other attempts ended into nothing." She switched tabs and started playing her arcade again, stabbing the keys as if they could alter destiny.

  Anne stood there, not sure of what to say. Charles had been working on some sort of water invention for years and had been trying to sell it for about as many years. In the beginning, Mary had been very supportive, dreaming of the big money that could fall into her hands if the invention sold as wonderfully as her husband described, but as the years went by, Mary's enthusiasm had waned and now she hated the experiment. Charles, on the other hand, had never given up hope and still toiled away, hoping to prove himself right in the end.

  Mary scowled as she died in her game, then shut off the monitor with an angry tap. "I'm tired. Let's go meet the in-laws. They'll be mad if they discover you've been here above an hour and I failed to bring you over to meet them. Never mind the fact they could come over here all by themselves. It's not like they can't see your car in our driveway."

  Since Anne sided with Mary on this one, she gave her sister a supporting smile, but Mary never saw it since she was too busy grumbling. Once Anne exited the house, following Mary, the boys squealed in dismay, claiming they weren't finished with their castles yet.

  Anne grimaced: she'd forgotten about their task. Repentant, she coaxed Mary to come and admire their grand creations, hoping that might get her out of her foul mood. Charlie had built a keep so far and was working on the outside wall while Walter was focused on digging the moat, the only part of his sandcastle he ever built.

  "Well?" Charlie demanded, showing off his tall keep.

  "It's beautiful." She ruffled Walter's hair. "Both of yours look amazing."

  "Where are you going?"

  "I'm taking Aunt Anne to see Grandma," Mary said, arms folded in impatience. "She'll be right back."

  "I want to come!" Charlie announced, abandoning his castle, his brother right behind him.

  "No, you're not coming!" Mary snapped. "You're staying right here."

  Charlie stomped his foot. "But I want to come!"

  "No!" their mother barked. "Grandma gives you candy and then you go off the walls and she expects me to take care of you all. I am not going to go through that again! You are staying here, you hear me?"

  The boys cowered, scooting toward each other for protection.

  Anne cringed, wishing she could do something to stop the yelling.

  "How about," Anne began and hoping Mary's anger wouldn't turn on her, "I come and help you with your sandcastle after I see Grandma?"

  The boys nodded glumly and Anne wanted to sweep them into her arms and give them big, reassuring hugs. But she knew the action would only anger Mary and probably make the situation worse.

  "Come on," Mary growled. "Let's get this over with already."

  Anne waved at the boys, then followed her grumpy sister.

  "I can't tell you," Mary began, "how wound up the kids have been these days. I've been trying to cut all sugar out of their diet but they're still bouncing off the walls so I know their grandma is feeding them gobs of candy behind my back. I've tried telling Charles but you know him. He doesn't see why they can't have sugar. And when they beg him for candy, he gives it to them! Even when I tell him not to! It drives me nuts! No one is respecting how I want to raise my kids. They all think they have the better way when I'm their mother! It's my right! You need to speak to them, Anne. I know Charles and his family will listen to you over me, which is ridiculous since you're not a mother at all. You have no idea how to handle children. I do, but do they listen to me? No!"

  Anne issued non-committal replies as Mary grumbled onward, privately doubting sugar was the problem. Of course, saying that out loud would only enrage Mary since, as she pointed out, Anne wasn't a mother herself and thus, had no right to an opinion. However, Anne was pretty sure the kids were starving for emotional attention from their parents and no amount of healthy food would fill that lack.

  They climbed the short hill to the main house. It had once been an old barn, but after the Musgroves had built the new barn closer to the farm, they had decided to transform the old one into an experimental, off-grid house. The result had turned out so well, they had abandoned the old, original farmhouse and moved into the transformed barn. Mary, however, had not appreciated any of the results. It brought her in-laws closer to her cottage as well as jump-started them into the world of living full-time off-grid. While Mary may not have minded so much of being overly encouraged to grow a garden, the idea of living only on solar power and not having instant access to the internet was equivalent to being dragged backwards into the eighteenth century.

  The muted chorus of a harp and piano lilted through the air and Anne peered into the three spacious south windows and spied Mary's two sisters-in-law playing their respective instruments.

  Mary groaned as they headed for the front door. "They've been playing non-stop since Rietta got that new harp. I don't know why her parents gave her that huge thing. She can't take it with her to college next year. It won't fit in any dorm room and even if it did—" Mary's statement died when the front door abruptly opened and her husband, Charles, stepped out. Though he was only slightly taller than Anne, Charles' stocky frame and solidly-built upper body made him seem much larger. Anne always wondered if he bulked up his muscles to hide his lack of height, especially since he swept his blonde hair upward in a way that seemed to give him an extra inch. Not to mention the boots he wore definitely had an extra inch to the heels.

  However, despite his attempts to create an imposing physique, it didn't lessen the chilly glare from his wife.

  "Hi, Charles," Anne offered as a sort of truce between the two.

  He gave her a nervous, yet thankful smile. "Hi, Anne. Glad to see you came."

  "For no good reason, apparently," Mary added with a sneer.

  "She'll be a big help to you," Charles countered. "You're always saying you'd like some help and Anne's a big help—"

  "A vacation would have been a lot more helpful."

  Charles fell silent for a moment, then turned to Anne. "Hey, Anne, want to come in? My mother and sisters would love to see you."

  "What?" Mary cut in. "Do they not want to see me?"

  "No, they'll see you—"

  "And sing until I have a headache. I told them I'm tired of all that racket, but does anyone listen? No, they don't. Well, I have things to do. So many things since no one helps me." Mary directed a glare at her husband, probably waiting for him to offer to help, but he stood there in awkward silence. Anne knew if she tried to intervene, it would only enrage Mary since the help she wanted was from her husband, not from anyone else.

  With a huff, Mary turned and stalked down the hill, unaccompanied. Charles let out his breath. "Sorry about that. Mary's in one of her moods."

  "Why did you cancel the trip?" Anne asked. Unlike his wife, Charles rarely leaped into a rage,
which was a good thing. Otherwise, the two would often dissolve into loud fighting matches.

  He caved in his shoulders. "I got a call about my invention. It was the first call in months! I had to take it. If I told him he couldn't come, then he might have thought I wasn't professional enough."

  "Charles, it was an overdue anniversary trip. He would have understood that."

  "I know, but I didn't want to risk it. Besides," he lowered his voice and crept closer to her, "You know me, Anne. Can you really see me stuck on a boat for two weeks? I can't do that. I've told Mary I'd take her on a trip to Italy as long as we don't have to step on a boat, but she insists on that boring cruise."

  Anne didn't know how to respond to that. If she had been in either of their shoes, she'd have given way to the other's demands simply to make the other happy. But sacrificing for the greater good was not how these two operated.

  "When is the meeting?" Anne asked instead.

  He sighed as if the world sat on his shoulders. "He ended up canceling yesterday."

  She patted his shoulder, well aware of the disappointment that must be burning within him. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

  He gave a short, rueful laugh. "Not as happy as Mary was to hear it. She claims it was karma and she insisted this meant I would have to help her clean up the house, but I have a farm to run. She doesn't seem to understand how much work I have to do all the time."

  Anne continued to pat his shoulder, unsure of what to say. She knew Charles worked hard, but she sided with her sister. Charles could at least help out a little. But she also knew the stress of failing to sell his invention and Mary's antagonism toward his dream took a huge toll on his pride.

  "What about your company?" he asked.

  She blinked. "My company?"

  "Your father, he worked for the Pemberley Estates before he retired last month. Did you know it's one of the best companies that acquire new inventions like mine? I applied months ago, but haven't heard anything, and thought, well, maybe you could somehow speed things up? I know you guys only did the law stuff, but maybe you knew someone in the acquisitions department and could put in a good word for me?"

  Anne grimaced. Even if her father still worked there, she doubted he could have done anything. "I rarely went to the office. Eliza and Dad did that part. And we only worked for one of their branches, not for the headquarters. Even if my dad knew somebody, I doubt they'd have enough clout to convince headquarters to listen to us."

  Charles sighed. "Yeah, I know. I was just...hoping."

  She patted his shoulder again. "You'll get your break one day."

  He smiled. "Well, let's head inside. Louisa has been dying for you to come since a month ago."

  A real smile donned Anne's lips as she entered the house, eager to be with people who wanted her.

  The converted barn had an open floor plan so no walls separated the front area from the kitchen and family room. Music from the latter filled the entire house and Anne was glad Mary had left since she'd have instantly complained of a headache from all the noise.

  Mr. Musgrove was a stocky man like his son but with less muscle and a pudgy stomach due to an intense sweet tooth. Patches of hair covered his head in a delicate manner to pretend he still had a full head of hair. He stood at the kitchen counter, surrounded by nutritional books and a variety of vegetables. Diagnosed with diabetes last year, he had determined to change his ways and dove into anything that claimed to manage his illness long enough to enjoy his potential grandchildren. He smiled and hummed as his daughters, his pride and joy, sat at their instruments to the right of him in the family area. Louisa, blessed with blonde hair and classic beauty, was twenty with an exhausting zest for life. She focused on the sheet music on the piano, her fingers flying over the keys in a determined, almost out of control manner. Rietta, the younger by three years and sporting brunette hair with a dash of freckles on her young face, sat at the harp, struggling to keep up with her sister's pace in their duet. Their adoring mother sat on the couch, ready to give abundant applause the moment they finished. She was as pudgy as her husband, but lacked the medical scare of diabetes to change her ways.

  "Mother!" Charles bellowed over the music. "Anne's here!"

  "Anne!" All cried at once, the mother rising from the couch while the girls abandoned their instruments and rushed to greet her. Louisa, always the faster of the two, reached her first and grabbed her hands. "You're here! Finally! Now you can play and I'll sing!"

  "But you play so beautifully," her mother admonished.

  "But my love is in singing and I can't play and sing at the same time. Anne's better at playing and she doesn't mind playing all day, don't you?"

  Anne smiled. "No, I don't." It was one of the reasons she loved coming here. No one minded if she played for hours. Granted, she had to play as an accompanist instead of her own songs, but it was better than not playing at all.

  "Good! Let's do a trio right now!"

  "How about a quadruplet?" Charles piped up.

  His sisters groaned. "You'll ruin it!"

  "Hey, I can sing," Charles countered and began to belt some cringe-worthy off-key notes, a teasing grin on his face.

  "Charles," his mother said, "you know I love you, but your spot is here." She patted an empty spot on the couch. "Come and admire them."

  "I'm not going to do that."

  "Chase would!" Louisa quipped.

  "Chase?" Anne asked as Rietta ducked her head to hide reddening cheeks. Louisa dissolved into a fit of giggles while her brother and mother laughed at the apparent inside joke.

  "Her new boyfriend," Louisa crooned between giggles.

  "He is not," Rietta insisted, cheeks still aflame. "He's just a friend."

  "And a good worker," Charles said, facing Anne. "He's been helping me with the farm the past couple of months and recently started to help with the renovation of the old farmhouse. He's a good kid. Quick on his feet and doesn't complain."

  "And he sure doesn't mind coming over every day, does he, Rietta?" Louisa asked.

  "He's just a friend," Rietta repeated, stomping to her harp. "He—"

  The front door abruptly banged open, announcing the arrival of the two boys and Mary. Apparently, the threat of sugar wasn't enough to justify being by herself with her boys while everyone else was at the main house. The boys tumbled inside, eager to join something exciting, but when they saw boring adults standing around, they headed off to the kitchen, looking for goodies amid all the vegetables.

  Anne observed Charles and Mary, wondering who would intervene and save Mr. Musgrove's cooking from the prowling boys. However, both avoided looking at each other, the tension between them indicating they expected the other to do the job. With a resigned sigh, Anne hurried to the kitchen instead, sand enticed the boys to head outside where they showed off their shaky cartwheel skills—though the youngest's attempts were more like tumbling. Once they tired of that, she convinced them to play with a neglected soccer ball and waited until they became absorbed with their new game before she ventured back inside. The adults were gathered in the family room, all making polite talk and all trying to ignore the tension that hung in the air like a smothering blanket.

  It was an old battle the family had endured since Charlie's birth. Both Mary and Charles preferred to ditch their parental duties when they were over at the grandparents' house, silently expecting the other to do the job instead. Yet, since neither did anything, the parental duties fell upon the grandparents who resisted the idea of having to raise another set of kids. Unfortunately, addressing the problem made Charles and Mary go on the defensive, claiming they were the victims. Parenting was too hard of a task, they would claim, that it was unreasonable to expect them to do everything on their own, especially when the kids never listened. But neither Mary nor Charles ever seemed to realize that their constant passive- aggressive battle to force the other to do the parental job only made the children harder to handle. Children were smart. If they knew they could pitch the pare
nts against each other to get their way, they would. Anne had seen this within her own family. Her father, overwhelmed by the never-ending demands of small children, had focused more on his work, building his sense of respect and esteem on his successes there. Her mother, left to deal with the children alone, had withdrawn into herself, lavishing care only on her good days. Eliza, the oldest, had quickly learned how to get her way by blaming whichever parent was most convenient while Mary had learned temper tantrums were an effective method of getting attention. Now both used those same childish tactics in their adult lives and would probably raise children as defective as themselves. If Anne hadn't had the guidance and love of Russelle, she probably would have tread a similar path.

  Still, Anne hoped to break the pattern by somehow encouraging Mary and Charles to engage more with their children and to stop blaming others for their own issues.

  "Anne." Louisa stood up, apparently tired with the stiff, polite talk. "Come play the piano so I can sing."

  Anne obeyed and the tense atmosphere lessened as music filled the house instead.

  Chapter 8

  The tense air never truly went away and followed Anne into the cottage as Mary and Charles continued to silently insist the other take care of the children. With a sigh, Anne rounded up the boys and herded them to bed. They clamored for a bedtime story and picked the longest book possible with so many words, Anne doubted the youngest would understand half of it. Anne decided to describe the pictures instead, but Charlie reprimanded her for skipping the words.

  She ruffled his hair. "You are so smart to figure that out. But shh, don't let your brother know. It's a secret." She winked at the younger boy who just stared at her in confusion.

  After a moment, he pointed to the book. "Read."