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“Sort of feels like he knows exactly what he wants to do with his life,” I mumbled. “It’s us he doesn’t know what to do with. Not here. Not there. Not in a box. Not with a fox.” I chortled to my Dr. Seuss imitation but waved a hand around our opulent setting, figuring Elsie would understand who exactly I meant.
She just sighed. “Ah, well. Things become a bit more complex when you throw the Parkers into the mix. For so long, he wasn’t even welcome in these halls, you know. And then suddenly, the duke wanted him after all. It was quite a turn.”
“Because he turned out to be his heir, right?” I chimed in. At least I knew some of the story.
“That’s what they said,” she agreed.
I perked up, sensing something more. “But?”
Elsie shrugged. “But nothing. I just always wondered if there was more to it than just carrying on a line. Maybe I’m just a romantic, but I always thought maybe the duke secretly loved Masumi. She was so lovely. Maybe he was forced to let her go by his family and the boy along with her. Keeping them close would have been too hard, perhaps. He didn’t become the Duke of Kendal until Xavier was maybe fifteen, sixteen? And by then, of course, it was too late for him to bring Masumi home to him where she belonged. But he took in Xavier, who reminded him of what he’d lost. They reminded each other, I think. So together, they never fit.”
I thought about that for a moment, long enough for Bledsoe to wheel in a cart containing tea. Elsie shooed him away and poured out for both of us while I ruminated.
“Elsie,” I said seriously. “I think you might like romance novels even more than I do.”
She looked up from the pot with a gleam in her eye. “Well, why not? There’s enough sour in life without a bit of sweet from time to time.”
We sat there for several minutes, sipping tea together while I considered all she’d said. It was quite a romantic story, the way she told it. Much more than the one Xavier had told me. In his view, he was only the product of a tawdry affair, not a doomed love.
Star-crossed lovers certainly added…something to it all.
But maybe that’s what was wrong, fundamentally. Was there a part of Xavier that was trying to make good with the family he’d never wronged?
Or was Sofia’s and my presence just a reminder of what he’d lost? Or maybe what I’d cost him?
Elsie finished her tea, then got up and stretched. “I’ve got to get home, my dear. You’ll be all right?”
I nodded, significantly sobered. “I’m sure Bledsoe can show me my room.”
“Of course he can. And a word, treat the butlers like dogs. If you try to be friends, they’ll never respect you. Command them and they’ll follow you like thieves.”
I chuckled and accepted a kiss to the cheek. “Good night, Elsie. Thank you. I’m sorry to be such a disaster.”
“Nothing to it, lovey. Sweet dreams to you and the boy.”
She left, but I remained by the fire a while longer, pondering not just what she’d said but also the rest of this odd life we’d taken on by coming here.
Three houses in less than two months.
More chandeliers than I could shake a stick at.
In essence, Sofia and I had become squatters in very expensive flophouses. My head was reeling from all the change, and I couldn’t believe it was good for Sofia, happy though she was to be near her father. What little of him she saw these days. Even less when we left in a few more weeks. Or so I assumed.
“Wanker,” I snapped at a portrait of Xavier hanging across the room.
I hadn’t noticed it before now. At Corbray Hall, there had been no portraits of the current duke to join his ancestors. Here, at last, was one, as stern as ever, Xavier in a full suit, hair shorter than I’d ever seen it, tattoos erased from his hand and neck.
It wasn’t a Xavier I’d ever known. Yet I wondered if he was becoming something more like this man every day.
Just as I was getting ready to leave, my phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out to discover a FaceTime request from Matthew. I checked the time. It was only about ten o’clock here. Just five back home.
I accepted the call and held my phone out. “Hey.”
Matthew’s face appeared on the screen along with Nina de Vries, his girlfriend—wait, no, his fiancée. I kept forgetting they were technically engaged, despite the fact that Nina was still trying to get out of her marriage to a truly horrible man. Supposedly, that was happening sometime soon.
My heart twisted as I caught a few glimpses of home behind them—the ugly brick fireplace, a TV playing what looked like a baseball game, and a bit of the black-and-white photo of the Brooklyn Bridge hung on one of the walls. I happened to know that Nina had a beautiful apartment on the Upper East Side, so it warmed my heart to know she was happy to spend time with Matthew in his own natural spaces. Happy, yeah. And a bit jealous.
Nina waved at me. “Hi, Frankie! So good to see you. Wow, you look beautiful!”
