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“At least the carols will be sung in tune.” My sister chuckled.
I laughed at that ridiculous image of us playing happy families at Christmas. “We’ve never sung carols before. That will be a first. But I’m willing. If only for Cian’s sake. I want to give him a normal life.”
“We’re billionaires, darling. We’re far from normal.”
“I plan to start giving my son a normal and happy life. Don’t you want to see happy grandchildren running around?”
“Of course.” She tented her sharp fingernails and tapped them. “But I also expect some input into their education and diet.”
I sucked back a breath. “Mirabel doesn’t take kindly to being told what to do.”
My mother rose from the table. “We’ll see. What about a christening? Will you at least christen my grandchild?”
“Let me discuss that with Mirabel.”
“We need a party. Merivale is kind of sombre these days. Since Daddy…” Savanah’s voice cracked. “I still miss him.”
I put my arm around her. “So do I.”
On that solemn note, my mother rose from her chair. “I’ve got some business to attend to. I got a call earlier. They’ve found my necklace.”
This piqued my interest. “Where?”
“Someone was selling it online. I’m about to find out the name of the seller.”
Both equally curious, we followed our mother into the library.
My mother opened the laptop on her leather-covered desk, and a few moments later, she went pale.
“What is it?” I asked.
She rose abruptly and pulled on the servants’ cord. A few seconds later, Janet appeared.
“Yes, Mrs Lovechilde?”
“Call Bethany. This minute.” My mother’s voice trembled.
I looked at Savanah, and her eyes widened.
I thumbed through a book on Venice, while Savanah sat down on the sofa, uncharacteristically quiet. My mother, meanwhile, stood at the window, staring out. The sky showed a storm brewing, just like the mood in that room.
Bethany slid in, and my mother turned sharply to face her. She pointed at the chair. “Sit.”
My mother walked to the printer, removed a sheet, and returned to her desk, while Bethany remained blank-faced.
I slid my eyes over to Savanah, who flicked through the pages of a magazine that was upside down.
“Your daughter isn’t terribly bright, is she?” my mother said.
Bethany shrugged.
My mother tapped the paper she was holding. “It seems she sold my ruby necklace. It’s here. She didn’t even change her name. Manon Swaye. The same name she signed for those casual shifts we were kind enough to give her.” She paused for a response, but Bethany’s silence spoke louder than words. “That might explain why I haven’t seen her lately. I suppose she’s busy spending the spoils of her crime.”
“I’m not responsible for her actions,” Bethany said.
My mother’s brow furrowed. “She’s your daughter. You brought her here. We gave her board and lodgings. We employed her.”
“So?”
