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“Mm.” Helena rested her hands in her lap. “That doesn’t mean you’ve given up.”
“No,” I agreed. “I haven’t given up, and I’m determined to prove to her that we can make this work.”
“Well, you can thank your mother for all of that,” Grandma said flatly. “She not only threw the girl out, but she also didn’t bother to hide how horrified she was that you’d been seeing her and not some fancy rich girl.”
It always amused me when she referred to any of the upper-class as fancy rich girls. Like she hadn’t been the daughter of an earl herself before she’d married Grandpa.
“If I were Sophie, I wouldn’t be coming back here, either. Let’s face it—Helena got out because she got married, but if, God forbid, your father died young, we’d have three generations of a duchess in this house.” She eyed me. “It’s not like the two of you would have a house of your own, is it? She’d have to live with your mother. Would you want to after what she said about her?”
“So what you’re saying is you think I’m doomed.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I think your mother has doomed you.”
“Why don’t you tell us how you really feel, Grandma?” Helena muttered.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Helena. Go on. Tell me.”
My sister said nothing.
It was good to know Grandma believed in me.
“Go to London,” she said, swatting my leg. “Your miserable old face is making me moody.”
“You don’t need any help being moody,” I replied.
“I don’t, which is why this is a problem.”
“Mum will skin me alive if I leave.”
“No, she won’t.” Mum stepped up beside me and put her hand on my shoulder. “You won’t hear me say this again, but your grandmother is right.”
Grandma punched the air. “Ah-ha!”
Mum squeezed my shoulder. “You’re not enjoying yourself here, and the only reason you’re here is for your grandmother. If she’s telling you to go to London… Go to London.”
I looked up at her. “Are you sure?”
She nodded. “You’re just wasting your time here,” she said. “Best to go now and you can catch her in the morning, hopefully.”
I looked at Grandma.
“Bloody go before you make the rest of us completely miserable with you,” she said, but she was smiling.
Helena got up. “Come on. I’ll help you get sorted.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, standing. “I can—”
“I’ll help you,” she said, more firmly this time, then grabbed my arm and dragged me from the room before anyone could stop us. “I need a breather.”
“I should have known there was a reason you were so quick to help me.”
She swatted my arm with a laugh and lifted her dress so she could walk up the stairs. “Why did we need a bloody ball? What’s wrong with a nice family dinner?”
“Ask Mum. It was her call.”
Helena sighed. “I think I’m turning into Grandma.”
“Yeah, well, Sophie is Grandma, just fifty years younger. I’m not sure what that says about me.”
