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“It was.”
His aunt paused her pacing and gave him an assessing look as she said, “Parliament business, was it? Not anything to do with why Pea trailed into the house yesterday morning looking like Kathy crossing the moor?”
Leo flinched and said as casually as he could, “Am I supposed to be Heathcliff in this analogy?”
His aunt deflated slightly and sat down in a blue and white silk striped armchair. “I certainly hope not.”
She eyed Leo for a moment as he put his hands in his pockets and walked over to one of the narrow windows. He leant against the ancient stone frame and looked out at the walled garden. The orangery roof was just visible beyond.
“You told me you weren’t interested in her,” said his aunt after a pause. “The fact I didn’t believe you for a moment is neither here nor there. What matters is whether you believe it. And what you told her.”
“She’s Edward’s sister.”
“And?”
And there was an unspoken rule:Thou shalt not be uncontrollably obsessed to the point of depravity with your best friend’s little sister.
And thou shalt definitely not fuck her for six hours straight—
“Edward is like a brother to me. And Peony is like a…um…sister. I couldn’t save Phillip, but…I swore an oath to myself that I would protect them. Nothing matters more to me than that.”
“Nothing? Not even your own heart?”
“My heart has nothing to do with it.”
There was a knock on the door. It was Kethnick.
“Your Grace, I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, and to greet your return home with bad news, but it’s about Kipper. Housekeeping found her in your room.”
“Dead?” asked Leo, somehow already knowing the truth.
“I’m afraid so. But it looks like she went peacefully in her sleep. She’s still on your bed where she was found. I thought you would like to see her.”
So Leo followed the old butler to his rooms down the hall and went to his bed where Kipper lay curled up but entirely, unnaturally still. He sat down next to her and stroked the fur that was stiff and lifeless and didn’t feel like his dog at all.
“I’m sorry, old girl,” he said, surprised that his voice was breaking, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t here with you at the end.”
And then his shoulders began to shake. Kethnick quietly withdrew and closed the door.
Chapter thirteen
Pea
Theoilpaintwasn’tyet cured, but Pea wrapped the canvas anyway. She turned to the other paintings and grimaced, pulling her hair from her sticky neck. It was sohot. And she was beginning to hate these paintings. She should have left them in Africa. She should havestayedin Africa.
She closed her eyes and took some deep breaths. She was tired of crying. And the dinner guests would start arriving soon. She didn’t want them to see her with red, puffy eyes. Definitely she didn’t want Edward to know she had been crying. If he asked her what was wrong, what could she possibly say?
I’m in love with your best friend. He used me like a Kleenex.
Adam came into the orangery and picked up the painting she had just wrapped. He was helping her load them into the van. “I’m sorry for all this extra work when you’re all so busy preparing for tonight,” she said for the fifth time.
“It’s no trouble,” he said, also for the fifth time. “We’ll be sorry to see you go though. Lady Rose will. His Grace.”
Pea attempted to smile and turned back to the packing materials.
“Best to get them loaded now anyway,” said Adam. “This weather will break any moment. And we don’t want to be loading them in the rain.”
Pea glanced up through the orangery’s glass roof. The sky was hazy, a flat featureless grey with a hint of ochre. “I hope it pours down. I can’t bear this stuffy heat.”
