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Miriam smiled.
The stylist sniffed.
Then Sofia yanked me out the door.
I might still have felt uneasy in Corbray Hall, but Sofia had taken to the place like a duck to water. To her, the estate was simply an enormous playground, and after she had met a few of the kitchen maids’ children feeding ducks, I barely saw her beyond mealtimes and the little day trips we took some afternoons.
“No, it’s this way, Mama,” she said, tugging me down a different corridor toward Xavier’s office after I’d made another wrong turn.
“Slow down!” I laughed, holding up my skirts. “I have to be careful in this, bean. Can’t tear things the day before the party.”
“Pretty party,” Sofia cackled to herself before stopping at Xavier’s office. She frowned. “What’s that sound?”
I paused, then heard the thumps of a deep bass vibrating through the thick wood doors, accentuated every so often by a hard thwack of…something.
I furrowed my brow, listening harder. Sofia, however, wasn’t inclined to wait. She threw most of her tiny body’s weight into opening the door, and immediately, we were assaulted by the harsh, unforgiving sounds of extremely heavy metal.
“Ouch, my ears!” Sofia cried, clapping her hands over said parts.
I covered them with my own, frowning into the room. The thwacking sound was louder now and clearly wasn’t part of the music. The problem was, I wasn’t sure what was causing it, if it was intentional, or if I needed to get Sofia out of here.
She, however, didn’t wait for me to decide.
“Daddy?” Sofia gasped as she peeked inside the doors.
In one corner, the sedate leather chairs had been replaced by a heavy bag hanging from the otherwise ornately carved ceiling. Foamed floors had been installed on top of the sleek hardwoods underneath, along with a set of hand weights against the wall.
Xavier stood in front of the setup, shirtless in a pair of black trousers that weren’t exactly designed for exercise but had molded perfectly to his sweaty body. His tattoo was on full display, completely at odds with the posh surroundings, the wild black dragonesque creature slithering all over the shining muscles of his left arm, shoulder, and side, teasing up the neck currently corded with muscle. He looked a far cry from the sophisticated chef, the dashing duke, or even the playful Arsenal fan we generally knew him as. Right now, he looked like a warrior. An extremely crazed warrior capable of a lot of violence.
“Fucking FUCK!” Xavier howled as he landed a complex combination of punches that sent the bag swinging violently through the air.
“Sofia.” I pushed my daughter out of the room and removed her hands from her head.
Her bright blue eyes shone curiously, but not without a bit of fear. I didn’t blame her. I’d never seen her dad like this, and it was likely a lot more intimidating as a little girl.
“Go find Miriam, babe,” I told her. “ I’m going to talk to Daddy and calm him down.”
With a swift nod, she took off down the hall, running as fast as her little legs could take her. I turned back into the room, wincing against the harsh music, and closed the door behind me.
“Xavier?” I asked.
He continued beating the bag, bouncing on his feet to the harsh music, which was howling nearly as loudly as he was.
“XAVIER!” I shouted as forcefully as I could.
Still no answer. Frantically, I looked around for the source of the music. Eventually, I located a speaker in the corner, which was probably attached to his phone or computer. I picked up my skirts and headed toward it, only able to relax a bit once the screaming vocalist and thrashing guitar were silenced.
“Oi!” Xavier turned around, face contorted with annoyance, until he located me standing next to the speaker. Then the irritation turned to mild repugnance. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
I smarted, although I kind of wanted to smile, too. It had been a while since I’d heard his typically foul language. I sort of missed it.
“A dress,” I told him.
His brow crinkled. “Why?”
“For the Ortham Ball tomorrow. Sofia wanted me to show you…” I fluttered my hand in the direction she had run off.
Xavier just continued to stare at me with an expression of abject horror.
