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“Son, enough—” He shook his head but I cut him off.
“A priest. One we can trust.”
“I can’t stay long,” I said, leaning down to kiss my mom’s forehead. She looked paler than the last time I’d seen her, but perhaps that was just the lighting. “How are you feeling?”
“Better for seeing you.” She waved her hand. “Don’t fuss over me, I never was one for accepting fate. Illness be damned, the devil will have to drag me kicking and screaming if he wants to take me from the world anytime soon.”
I snorted a laugh. She might only have been a Greengallow by marriage, but she certainly had our temperament. Her own family weren’t exactly saints though, nor were they mild wallflowers. When my father married, it wasn’t just convenience, it was the love of a woman who gave as good as she got.
“Where’s your ring?” I asked as I sat in the chair opposite hers, taking her hand in mine.
“Pfft. That thing gets bigger by the day, keeps slipping off my finger. It’s in the box by my bed.”
I nodded. “I thought perhaps you’d given it to Petre for his wedding.”
Her eyes lit up with a smirk. “Don’t think just because I’m old and can’t easily get out of my rooms, that I don’t have eyes and ears in this house, Vasile Greengallow. You won’t convince me that you’re happy for this marriage to go ahead. Neither am I, and I won’t have the wedding ring given to me by my husband being used to shackle a girl into a loveless marriage with a slimy eel like your brother.”
My jaw nearly hit the floor at her words. I’d never heard her speak about Petre that way.
“Oh, don’t give me that look. I love Petre, of course I do. He was my baby boy once. But he’s not a good man, and I don’t mean in the same way as your father or even your grandfather. Petre has a wickedness to him that goes deeper than either of them, he’s crueler. It’s less about business and more about enjoyment.” She waved her hand. “Enough talk of him. I want to know about you. I see something in your eyes. Maybe you have someone that should be wearing that ring…”
“Mom.”
“What? Old ladies who are weak and infirm like to talk. Who is she?”
“I didn’t say there was anyone.”
“Yes, you did. Not with your words, but with your eyes, you did. So, tell me who she is.”
“I can’t.”
Her eyes sparkled and a thin smile pulled at the corner of her lips. “Oh, how delicious. Keep your secrets. It’s what you’ve always done, but a mother knows what she knows. I see love in your face, Vasile. You should take that ring.”
“What? No, I can’t. Mom, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I know perfectly well what I’m saying. Have you told your father?“ She paused for only the briefest moment before nodding. “Of course. That’s good. He wants you to be happy.”
“I need to go.” I tried once more to leave without the ring but she would not have it.
“You take that ring, or you’ll break my heart.”
I sighed, nodding, and stood, kissing her on the forehead again before I went to retrieve the ring. If my father was as stubborn as a mule, she was more like a mountain. Arguing was pointless once she’d made up her mind.
CHAPTER 20
Valeria
The hours ticked on; I finished my oranges; I used up almost all the logs in the stack. The early dusk of winter dimmed the enormous rooms of the chilly manor house. And with each minute that passed, I got more and more furious.
How dare he dash off to wherever he’d gone, leaving me here alone and wondering? As far as he knew, I was still in his bedroom with nothing but water and a fire that by now would have burnt out without the extra logs I’d found for myself.
What an absolute jerk. He hadn’t left me a morsel to eat, hadn’t told me a thing. I never thought of myself as some spoiled-rotten princess, but whatever my title, whatever my background, I knew without question that I deserved better than this.
Huffing to myself, I considered the possibilities. The first option was dreadful. A Greengallow family conspiracy. Maybe he’d left me here for his brother to come get later, when it suited him, just in case I decided to run off before my father could collect me. For all I knew, this manor house might even belong to Petre—when those two men had come into the bedroom they’d said Mr. Greengallow, but they had failed to mention which one. Tomorrow was supposed to be my wedding day, after all, so maybe it was all just some disgusting scheme between the two of them. Maybe some sick family tradition.
