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“My dear, we don’t speak of such things at Duncroft,” Richard proclaimed.
“Oh Richard, of course you do,” Chelsea rebutted. “I know firsthand.”
“Chelsea, love,” Mary said in soft warning.
But her warning came too late.
Ian was done.
“I’m uncertain you understand,” he stated in a cutting voice I was instantly happy he’d never used with me, I felt lacerated, and it wasn’t even aimed my way, “how much of a fool you’re making of yourself.”
“Listen, son—” Michael began heatedly.
Ian turned to him. “You’ll know when I’m speaking to you. Now, I’m not.”
In affront, Michael’s eyebrows hit what should have been his hairline.
Ian’s attention returned to Chelsea. “You’re no longer in my bed, nor are you in Daniel’s. If this was something you desired again, I can assure you, with your behavior tonight, you’ve blown any chance. I can’t begin to imagine why you’re acting as you are. It has no goal but to wound, which isn’t nice at all and says terrible things about you. I held affection for you, Chelsea. But right now, I think you’re acting like a bitter cow.”
Chelsea’s face went slack in shock.
“My God,” Mary breathed, aghast.
“You’ve been sitting right here, Mary,” Daniel noted, his hand covering Portia’s on the table protectively. “You can’t have missed how she’s been behaving.”
“Is this how Duncroft will be run when you take over?” Michael demanded to know.
“If you mean when I ask someone to join me in my home to drink my wine and eat my food and grace my table, and they act like a vicious shrew, am I going to call them on their fuckery?” Ian asked in return. Then he answered, “Yes.”
I sat back with my wine and said, “I’ve gotta say, you Alcotts sure know how to throw a dinner party.”
Lou choked down a hysterical giggle.
“You’re not helping,” Ian murmured to me.
But Daniel was smiling at me.
And Portia was watching me closely.
She turned her hand under Daniel’s and linked fingers.
The panel opened in the wall and Stevenson ushered Jack and Sam in.
We’d already had a lot to chew on.
But for now, we had to set that aside.
It was time for the main course.
Needless to say, when we left the dining room, Portia and Daniel, Lou, Ian and I didn’t follow the others to the Wine Room for a digestif.
I walked Lou up to her room and made sure she took her migraine tablet and drank a whole glass of water besides. I then pulled the bell, and when she arrived, asked Harriet to fill her water carafe so she could have some close at hand in order to stay hydrated.
I could tell it was getting worse, so I helped her get undressed and brushed her hair into a ponytail while she took off her makeup and did her skincare regime.
Once she was tucked in bed, and I’d had a word in the hall with Harriet about keeping an eye on Lou tonight as she dealt with her migraine, and she promised she’d look in again before she was off the clock at eleven, I went back downstairs to the Conservatory.
Ian was alone with a cigarette and a brooding expression.
