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Xavier rubbed his face, then turned to his stepmother. “And why is that, Georgie?”
She grimaced at the name. I fought the urge to laugh.
“Well,” she continued. “I don’t have to tell you how important this Season is for Frederick.”
Xavier huffed. “Georgina, I don’t care whether or not Frederick makes a good impression on some stuffy peers or an heiress.”
“You should if you want Freddy to become the new steward once he finishes with university, as you suggested last night,” Georgina put in. “Running an estate like Kendal—and the others belonging to your title, I might add—is much like running a large corporation. You need the respect of your community, your peers, to do it well. Henry refused to take part in socializing, and you’ve seen the state of the books.”
“That’s because of his strokes, the doctors said,” Xavier argued. “Not because he didn’t go to a bunch of ridiculous parties.”
“Nonsense.” Georgina slapped her paper onto the little table, but it was the only sign of her frustration. “You own an empire of restaurants, darling. Don’t you need the cooperation of influential people to make them a success? Kendal doesn’t exist as an island any more than the Parker Group does. Connections are everything. You know they are.”
Xavier opened his mouth to argue, but it was obvious he couldn’t. Even I could imagine how much he depended on style influencers, restaurant critics, food suppliers, investors, and so much more for the Parker Group to be a success.
So maybe Georgina was right. Maybe the aristocracy functioned in a similar way.
Which meant, I realized with a sinking feeling as I glanced again at the headlines, that if Sofia and I were perceived as a scandal, we could also be Kendal’s downfall before Xavier even had a chance to save it.
“Sofia’s my daughter,” Xavier said. “Not a social liability.”
Relief washed over me like a cool ocean wave.Take that, you bitch.
“Of course she is,” Georgina concurred. “No one is doubting that. No one of importance. Yet.”
Well, someone was, I almost pointed out.
“So what are you suggesting?” Xavier asked irritably. “I’m not sending Francesca or Sofia back to New York, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“Of course not,” Georgina purred. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I was only considering the future, really. The Season has started, and Frederick, well…” She tipped her head as if she was just coming up with the idea. “Imogene did suggest last night that you attend a few of the local events, perhaps the Garden Party next week. At the very least, the Ortham Ball might continue to put you in good graces with the viscount and his sort, not to mention what the Troop’s Cup might offer. Everyone will be there.”
Xavier gaped. “With everything there is to do around here, you want me to dress up like a penguin and sip tea and play polo with a bunch of stuffed shirts? With Henry only so ill and things a mess here?”
Georgina only offered a sweet smile and pushed a paper bearing yet another salacious article his way. “The estate needs these connections, darling. It’s not about tea, it’s about money. You’ll go, satisfy people’s interest in you, make Frederick’s introductions, and secure your family’s continued success before you trot back to London to live your life, just as you please. Don’t you think that’s what Henry would want rather than us sitting over here mooning over him? Don’t you think he would wish for you to preserve his life’s work?”
Xavier eyed the papers, then me, then looked back at Georgina. “I—” He sighed. “I suppose.”
My eyes widened. Really?
Xavier avoided my gaze.
“Good. It’s settled, then. I’ll have my assistant send our responses.” Georgina practically gleamed at the idea, then eyed me carefully. “And you, my dear, may want to stay in here. Or better yet, in London. Terribly boring, these things. No place for an American.”
“No,” Xavier cut in fiercely. “If I have to go to these things, Ces comes with me. That’s all.”
I found myself standing up proudly, eager to be tugged next to him, to take my place beside Xavier, as he said he just wanted. His hand curled around my shoulder, and I found the urge to stick out my chest like a puffed-up pigeon.
Take that, lady. You’re not getting rid of this American so fast.
My sisters would be proud.
Apparently, even Georgina knew when not to push the current Duke of Kendal on his will. Once again, she looked me up and down, as if trying to determine exactly how to pull a particularly large weed in her beloved garden.
“Well, then,” she said at last. “We’ll just have to make do, won’t we?”
SIXTEEN
“Posture, miss.”
