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“I was doing no such thing,” Frederick said blandly. “I was simply conveying the different scenarios in play and the fact that my mother is a formidable woman.” He looked at me pointedly. “I believe I offered the same message at your wedding.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Walking a bit of a tightrope, are we?”
He just nodded, then got up from the bench. “I see you have finally learned the way things work around here,Your Grace, in a way my dear brother never has. Keep it in mind in the coming days. It will serve you well.”
TWENTY-SIX
The next day, Xavier and I sat down for a late breakfast with my iPad in front of us while we waited for Elsie to answer her phone. According to her texts, she and Sofia were at Teterboro waiting for their flight to board for London.
A second later, my daughter’s face splashed across the screen. Well, part of her face. Sofia, like most four-year-olds, was very good at giving a FaceTime camera an excellent view up her nose while she looked down at us.
“Hi, baby!” I cheered at her. “Are you ready for your flight with Elsie?”
“Yep,” Sofia said. “And so is Tyrone! I gave him a really pretty pink bow for the journey.”
Xavier nudged into the frame beside me, looking for Sofia’s stuffed unicorn. “Show us his bow, babe. We want to see Tyrone in his Sunday best.”
“It’s not Sunday, Dad. Elsie says it’s Tuesday. I think you might need a calendar.”
I chuckled while Xavier made his amends for mixing up the days and paid Tyrone lots of compliments to scrub the disappointment off Sofia’s face. Lord, she was like her father. No one got a break.
“He looks great, bug,” I told her. “Have fun on your flight. Listen to Elsie, and we’ll meet you in Mayfair when you get here, all right? Ben will be picking you two up right at the airport.”
“Okay, Mama! Elsie, can I watchMcStuffinsyet?”
“Not until we’re boarded, lovey. That’s in about ten minutes.” Elsie’s motherly voice filled the room, followed by her face on the screen. “Everything’s swimming along here. She’s a pearl, as always.”
“Thank you so much for taking her, Elsie,” I said honestly. “Giving us a couple of days to ourselves after the wedding.”
“Well, after the baby comes, you two should take a proper honeymoon. Consider me the volunteer nurse for the kiddies, all right?”
Xavier winked at me and grinned back at her. “Thanks, Els.”
“See you lovebirds soon.”
The call ended, and like he’d been waiting for the silence, Gibson approached, holding a tray.
“Some messages arrived for you this morning, Your Grace,” he said in his patently droll manner. “And for you, Your Grace.”
I almost jerked to find him looking at me with the address. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but given our first interactions, it was a bit shocking that Gibson, with his familial pride and upright posture, would be the slightest bit happy to address an American interloper as his new duchess.
His face, however, bore no trace of resentment or even irritation with Xavier’s or my presence. Yesterday, he’d addressed me the same, without a drop of irony either.
Gibson, the soul of tradition, was simply getting on with things.
“Sort of exciting, receiving a letter on a silver tray,” I joked as I took my letter, contained in a simple white envelope. “Instead of text or email, I mean. Now I really feel like I’m in the middle of an Austen novel.”
Xavier barely responded, engrossed already in the letter he’d opened with his butter knife.
“What is it?” I asked. “Good or bad.”
He finished scanning the paper and set it down on the table. “It’s from a member of the House of Lords. The Earl of Lonsbury, as it were.”
I perked. “The one who wants you to take your father’s place?”
Xavier looked up. “How did you know that?”
Quickly, I relayed the events of the previous evening to him while I forked a few pieces of kippered salmon onto my plate, along with some pickles. Xavier’s eyes just grew wider and wider until I got to the end, when I’d informed Imogene of just how rude of an American I could be. Then he laughed, loud and hard.
