"Phillip, if it's any consolation, you've always been comfortable being around women," Brett Hamilton told his brother. He was happy to talk to him on the phone, although the news that he was going to be the father of another girl had come as a shock. "It really doesn't matter if it's a boy or a girl, the important thing is that the baby is born healthy. Fate decides the gender, not you."

"It's Mom and Dad who see it as a problem. They love girls, but they're anxious for a son to be born, an heir. From their point of view, I'm not fulfilling my obligation, and they expect you to do the same."

Brett didn't reply. He'd heard the same thing too many times. His entire family insisted with tiresome vehemence that he get married and have children. But from his point of view, their insistence on giving the Hamiltons an heir to the title was obsolete.

–By the way, they still insist that Lady Harriet is the perfect candidate.

–Phillip, you just ruined my perfect day.

–The truth is that both of you are reaching an age where it wouldn't hurt to consider settling down.

–Yes, but not together.

"Our families complement each other perfectly," Phillip reminded her. "What you're suggesting is that we sign a financial agreement, not that we

let's celebrate a wedding.

–And what's so bad about that?

–For me they are completely different things.

–But it is important that you give us an heir.

–Honestly, if after you've created a wonderful family with a wife and four daughters, the problem is that a boy is missing, I'll give up all hope that the Hamilton mentality will prosper.
His brother sighed tormentedly.

"You should listen to Dad. The first thing he asked me when I told him we were having a baby was if it was a boy. Carolyn nearly collapsed when we were told we had to paint another room pink. She told me it's the last baby we're having, so now it's your turn. I imagine it'll be a recurring topic of conversation during our parents' upcoming visit."

Brett closed his eyes in exasperation. He was glad his brother couldn't see him.

–Is that a warning?

–I'm just telling you to get ready.

Brett didn't reply, but the weight of a responsibility he didn't want fell upon his head. Since childhood, he had been raised to assume a pre-assigned role. Everyone had assumed he would marry, and that he would marry the right person. But although he had grown up as Lord Breton, he had always felt simply like Brett.

When the opportunity to move to America arose, he had seen the doors to his freedom open wide.

During the months he had spent there, he had enjoyed his job as vice president of the export department at Wintersoft and the anonymity.

That company might not have had the same pedigree as his father's, but he liked the idea of creating his own future.

"And what about your love life? Our parents will want to know. You haven't said anything for a while. Mother thinks you might regret leaving Lady Harriet, and that you might want to get back together with her. She's even suggested she can come with you if you want. Apparently, she told Mother she's never been to Boston."

The idea alarmed Brett.

"Don't even think about it," he said.

-Why not?

–Because... because I already have a girlfriend.

"Say that again," his brother said. "I didn't hear you properly. It's really noisy. Did you say you have a girlfriend?"

–More than that. We're committed.

There were a few seconds of silence.
"And you've kept it so quiet? I can't believe it. How are you like that?" "I'm not at...