Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

D inner was the quietest disaster I’d ever lived through.

It started with a savory carrot soup decorated with digs at my dress. Next was a succulent roast with a side of “When is Francesca going home?” Third, was the salad course, dressed with a game of Pretend Frankie Isn’t in the Room, even when I asked direct questions. By the time we took up our solid silver spoons for dessert, a raspberry cream confection, I wanted to throw mine in the faces of every person at the table, including Xavier, whose primary response to every passive-aggressive insult was to blink and squeeze my knee as if to say, Just deal with it.

“I’d love to take you shopping, Felina,” Imogene had told me as our dessert plates were being cleared.

“That’s very kind,” I lied through my teeth. “And it’s Francesca.”

I would have rather jumped in the lake with all my clothes on. And dragged her with me if she purposefully called me by the wrong name one more freaking time.

Of course, it didn’t help that Imogene probably looked like a supermodel in literally everything she put on, while the wrong outfit made my curves strongly resemble the body of a Cabbage Patch Kid. I had watched her eat exactly two bites of each dish she was served before setting her utensils primly at the eight and two positions, fork below the knife. I had thoroughly enjoyed all the courses, but if the Douglases’ faces were any indication, I more closely resembled one of the estate’s pigs chowing down on their nightly slop.

Imogene looked over my outfit somewhat pityingly. “Of course, I wouldn’t want to embarrass you. The shops I prefer might be a bit beyond your pocket money.” She winced, like it was physically hurting her to think about it. “Kip, you really might increase her allowance. What else shall the poor girl to wear to dinner?”

Xavier chuffed, as if the idea was preposterous, but his hand landed on my knee and squeezed again, silently bidding me to hold my temper.

I didn’t understand it. Normally, he was the one ready to fly off the handle at any sign of insult to his person. But throughout the dinner, he’d been as placid as a dove, making pleasant, if dull conversation with the viscount about the latest weather patterns.

Before I could declare heartily that as a grown woman, I could buy my own clothes and did not need or want an allowance from any man, thank you, Imogene turned to Georgina to discuss the hat trends at this year’s Ascot. And for the fourteenth time that evening, it was like I did not exist.

By the time Gibson and a footman (I still couldn’t believe Corbray Hall had one) arrived to clear the table and usher everyone to a different sitting room for after-dinner drinks and petit fours, I was done. I claimed a headache and escaped to my rooms, eager to kiss my daughter good night, only to find that Sofia had already been put to bed.

And I hadn’t even been told.

So I stomped around the room, yanking off my earrings like I was preparing for a street fight, throwing my clothes into the laundry basket like they were hand grenades. I tried a hot shower, three different books, and even made myself some tea with the room’s kettle. Nothing calmed me down.

It was my own fault for not standing up for myself. I knew that. But I didn’t know how to respond to these people the right way. At home, my family was direct, a table full of filterless Italian Puerto Ricans who said exactly what they thought, when they thought it. It was crude sometimes, and hurtful, but at least you knew where everyone stood. I could deal with brutal honesty.

But these games—insults masked as complimentary advice, disdain that played like courtesy—I didn’t know how to do that. Every glance was coded, every comment an inside joke. I was completely outmatched.

And so, by the time Xavier came back to the room sometime past ten, I had been seething at the end of the bed in my nightgown and robe for nearly two hours, imagining all the ways I could pin my boyfriend to the wall without actually killing him. I had come to the unreasonable conclusion that it was entirely his fault. Even if I couldn’t play the game, he certainly could. And he should have played it for me, dammit.

He opened the door quietly, trying to slip in like a cat, but stopped halfway when he realized the light was still on. “Oh, you’re awake.”

I looked up from where I was tying and untying the two ends of my robe. A copy of Persuasion lay next to me, unopened. I pushed it to the floor. “Oh, you’re speaking to me.”

Xavier frowned and closed the door behind him. “What is that supposed to mean?” He slipped off his shoes and set them by the door. I only then realized how odd it was to see him wearing shoes inside. The Xavier I knew took them off as soon as he entered any house. Not here, apparently, where there were maids cleaning every room daily.

“Well, to start with, I’m shocked you even noticed I was gone,” I said. “You barely said anything to me when I bid everyone good night. I realize none of them could have cared less, but I thought you might a little.”

Xavier worried his jaw for a moment, clearly trying to figure out how to navigate this situation. I honestly wasn’t sure how to navigate it myself. I wasn’t used to this feeling of being indebted to someone by virtue of their generosity while at the same time being furious with them. I was lucky to be here, in this grand house, on an actual estate like the ones I’d read about for years. But I also felt cast out, like I absolutely did not belong.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, though it was wooden and rehearsed. “To be honest, I was relieved.” He continued upon seeing my expression, “Not because I wanted you to leave. Just because you were so clearly having a terrible time. I didn’t want you to suffer.”

That should have made me feel better.

It did not.

“It’s not just that,” I admitted. “I should have listened to you, Xavi. You are different here. I don’t want to go, but I’m not sure what to do about it.”

He gave a great sigh. “Ces, it’s only been one day?—”

“I know,” I interrupted. “I know it’s only been one day. Not even, really. And I know I need to be patient. But something happened the second you got that phone call.”

I wanted to tell him I could feel it in the air. For the last month, we’d been making something of a life together in London. It wasn’t perfect, and yes, Sofia and I were still something like tourists, but even when Xavier had to work or deal with something in his real life, I always knew that we came first to him. He was protective of us to a fault and talked us up to everyone he met. I felt like we were the jewels of his life.

But here, we just faded away, hidden in the rest of the grandeur.

I opened my mouth to tell him all of it but found I couldn’t.

“There is something about this place that totally changes you,” was all I could manage. “You’re just…it’s not the same as in London.” I sank down onto the bed, trying to understand where I was going with this. “For one, those people. Your stepmother, your neighbors. You’re so quiet around them. More distant. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you sit through a dinner you didn’t cook without swearing.”

“I have to get along with them, Ces.”

I nodded. “Okay. But why?”

I couldn’t help asking. The Xavier I knew was more stubborn than a rock wall. He told people to fuck off quicker than he could smile. I’d just seen him practically throw his own chef out of his restaurant for messing up soup, but here, he was a tamed tiger. You knew he was dying to break free of the cage, but instead, he was prowling the house, waiting to be let out.

I didn’t like it.

He didn’t seem to either, as he tugged on his collar.

“Well, for one, as horrible as they are, Georgina, Frederick, and Henry are the only family I really have left,” he said. “And honestly, I consider the Douglases a part of that as well. I was going to marry their daughter, after all.”

“I—oh,” I said. I hadn’t really thought about it like that. I supposed family was family, even if you didn’t really like them.

“For another,” he continued. “I was hoping Lord Ortham might be able to help manage the estate so I don’t have to stay here. Frederick is too young to take it over—he’s still in school—and God knows Georgina has done enough damage over the past two months. I need help, Ces, like I told you. I don’t think I can trust anyone else. I’ve known Imogene and her parents a long time. They wouldn’t do anything to screw things up.”

I considered this point. It never occurred to me that he had an ulterior motive when it came to inviting the Douglases to dinner. I’d been too busy fuming to think it through.

“Okay,” I said. “That makes sense. But Xavi, please tell me you didn’t hire a nanny without consulting me first. Like, what the hell was that?”

Xavier seemed to make a decision, walking further into the room while he undid his tie. “Well, no. I haven’t hired anyone. Yet.” Then he just looked confused. “Honestly, I thought you’d be happy about it.”

“You thought I’d be happy about someone making a unilateral choice regarding the care of my own kid?”

“Well, technically, she’s not just your kid anymore, is she?” The statement was only slightly cut with resentment, but it was present.

I wondered if he’d ever forgive me for that.

Xavier sighed as if he knew that line of reasoning wouldn’t end in anything good. “My point is, I was trying to do you a favor.”

I held back a few choice remarks, still slighted by his earlier comment. “Regardless, it’s not a decision you make without me. Ever.”

He worried his jaw a moment, then came to stand in front of me and shoved his hands in his pockets. From my vantage point, his legs looked impossibly long, and the undone tie and disheveled collar only added to his general appeal. Damn. It was really hard to stay mad at him when he looked like that, and the spark in his eye when he caught me noticing told me he knew it.

“I don’t understand why you’re upset,” he said. “You’ve been happy to let Elsie babysit whenever she wanted this summer. I don’t expect you to be Sofia’s babysitter one hundred percent of the time.”

“I’m her mother,” I countered, staring up at him. “I’d never be her babysitter.”

He sighed. “Ces, I know that. I also know—because you’ve told me—that you’ve given all of your time to her over the last four years. If you want to keep chasing after her all hours of the day, fine. I won’t stand in your way.”

“You say that as if I wanted to give up my entire future to raise our kid on my own.” I was reaching now, but I was annoyed. “I had dreams too at one point. I wanted to be a professor. I wanted to study great works of literature and teach them to a crowd full of willing adults, not do glitter art and times tables. I wanted to go places that I chose, not just by the grace and mercy of another.”

“Well, you don’t have to wait anymore, do you? You can do whatever you want, if that’s what this is about. You want me to sack the nanny, fine, I’ll do it. You want me to hire one, that’s fine too.”

I opened my mouth to argue more. I wanted to tell him that he was missing the point—that it wasn’t about whether I wanted childcare, it was about whether he asked me in the first place. I felt like another piece of ornamental furniture with the rest of the things in this museum. Aimless, maybe pretty to look at, but generally something that could be moved around at will and didn’t have much purpose.

“Even if you did hire someone,” I said quietly. “What am I supposed to do with that time? I’ve been playing tourist for the last month, Xavi. And while it’s been lovely, I need more.”

“More what?” His brow furrowed adorably. “More money? More places to go? If you’re bored, you could go to Scotland for a few days, or Ireland if you’d prefer. Shit, I’ll fly you to the continent if you want?—”

“No, I don’t mean more to see,” I said. “I mean, more to do.” I shrugged helplessly. “Maybe that’s why we wanted to come with you. I know it’s not much, but at least being here, being that support gives me more to do than leech off you, like everyone seems to think I’m doing.”

I reached out and pulled his hand from his pocket, then tugged him to sit next to me. I was tired of goggling up at him while he leered over me like a gargoyle.

“Every person at that dinner tonight had one question on the tips of their tongues: what is she doing here?” I told him. “It was in their eyes when they looked at my clothes, in their comments when they talked about literally any kind of future. And you know there was a reason they weren’t the slightest bit interested in anything I had to say either. To them, I don’t matter. Not one bit.”

“That’s because they’re all wankers,” Xavier agreed. “I told you, don’t pay them any mind, babe. They don’t know you?—”

“No, they don’t,” I agreed. “But they don’t have to, either. Because I don’t mean anything to them. I have no purpose here, Xavi. I need something to do besides sightsee and look pretty. I need to be a person of value.”

I honestly hadn’t realized that was the truth until he’d pulled it out of me. The last month had been lovely, but I wasn’t cut out to be a lady of leisure. It wasn’t in my DNA.

“I thought…” Xavier seemed truly confused. “I thought you’d want the time off. You’ve been working so hard for so long. You don’t have to worry about that now. I can take care of you and Sof, and you can do…whatever you like. Just relax, right?”

He’d told me variations of that over and over for the last four weeks. I was supposed to relax this summer and take an extended vacation on him. But that wasn’t what I wanted. I wasn’t looking to be someone’s kept lady. I wanted to be someone’s partner.

“Would that make you happy?” I asked, reaching out for one of his large hands. “You are one of the most motivated people I’ve ever met. Could you honestly tell me you’d be happy being a man of leisure?”

He opened his mouth to argue with me but seemed to quickly realize he couldn’t. “Point taken.” He clapped a hand on my knee. “I won’t hire anyone without talking to you first. As for support…” The hand on my knee moved up my thigh a little, then paused, as if waiting for my green light.

I smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I can’t tell you what to do with your time, babe. You’ve got to figure that one out on your own.”

I leaned on his shoulder. That was the hard part, wasn’t it? I’d traveled all the way to England only to feel as lost as ever.

“I’ll figure it out,” I said. “But I don’t want to do it in a different bedroom.”

A deep chuckle vibrated under my temple.

I sat up to look at him. “Or is a duke not allowed to sleep with someone who isn’t his wife?”

Xavier stilled for a second, and I wondered if I’d gone too far. After all, we hadn’t ever discussed marriage, even if my sisters constantly wondered about it. It didn’t help that since Matthew had gotten engaged, the entire Zola family had wedding fever.

Too soon , a voice inside my head reminded me. It’s far too soon.

But we had a child together. We were a family. And just yesterday, hadn’t he almost…

I mean, couldn’t we at least talk about these things?

“The duke,” Xavier said finally, “is allowed to do whatever he fucking wants. And that includes taking his girl to bed and sleeping where he pleases. And right now he pleases to have you. Come here.”

On instinct, I edged away, biting back a grin as I did. We had more to talk about, but as always, I couldn’t resist his charm. Especially when it turned demanding in the best possible way.

Xavier tipped his head, causing the mischievous lock of black hair to fall over his forehead. “You know how I feel about that lip, Ces.” He turned onto his knees and prowled down the bed toward me.

Giggling, I scrambled backward and pressed myself against the gilt headboard. “Careful,” I warned him. “You’re bigger than me.”

For that, I was rewarded with a wolfish grin. “Bloody right I am. Makes it easier to put you where I want.”

Swiftly, he grabbed me under the knees and yanked me forward, forcing me onto my back where he could cage me against the down pillows.

“Francesca.”

As always, it was the sound of my formal, given name purred in that delicious low timbre, rumbling against the delicate skin under my ear, that was my undoing.

I melted into the pillows and against the big body that felt more like a homecoming than a cage. The sky’s deep blue faded away, as did the lights of Kendal, far below. All I could feel was Xavier’s lean, muscled arms winding around my waist and neck, wrapping me with his strength, blocking out everything but him.

His tongue licked a trail behind my ear and down my neck. When he reached my collarbone, he bit. I arched into his touch and moaned.

“The only thing that’s changed now is this,” he said as he ground his hips into me, making the steel length very clear within his trousers.

I slipped my hands into his silky dark hair and pulled, egging him on.

“You want this?” he asked, both hands dropping to my hips, pulling me back toward him so I could feel his erection straining through his pants at my back. “Or something else first?”

One hand dropped lower to flirt with the hem of my nightgown. Fingers slid between my thighs, tickling the sensitive skin. I jerked and gasped when he dragged one across the damp fabric of my panties.

“I think she wants it all,” he rumbled, turning me in his arms so he could capture my mouth with his.

There were more arguments to have. More words to be said. But subsumed by his kiss, I couldn’t think of any of them. Xavier’s tongue twisted around mine as he shoved my robe down my arms, then reached down and pulled my dress over my head, leaving me, little Frankie Zola, naked in a duke’s country estate.

“You know I kind of hate you right now, right?” I murmured against his sweet, sweet lips. “You just distract me from it.”

Xavier only smiled before kissing me again. “Well, let’s just see if I can’t make you forget that completely, eh?”

I grabbed the open sides of his shirt, pulling him away slightly. “I’m still mad at you.”

Another kiss. “Fine.”

“This discussion isn’t over.”

Kiss. “I never said it was.”

“Xavi—oh?—”

“Perfect,” he murmured as he cupped my face, bringing me back for yet another kiss. “Fucking delectable.”

“Xavi—”

“Hush,” he said as he trailed down my body. “We can fight more in the morning. Let’s just make up first.”

To my surprise, I was all right with that.

“Mama! Nooooooo!”

Like an automaton, I sprang from sleep only to find I wasn’t at home on the landing but in an opulent bedroom.

“Mama?”

Sofia’s voice was softened by the doors separating my bedroom from hers, but it was still there. I pushed back the covers and swung my feet to the floor.

“Where are you going?” Xavier asked, voice muddled with sleep. He stretched out a long arm and clapped a broad palm on my thigh to still me.

“It’s Sofia,” I told him as I pulled my robe over my naked body and tied it quickly around my waist. “She’s having a nightmare.”

That perked him up. “Eh?”

“She’ll be fine,” I told him.

“Mmmph. Come back to bed, then. She’ll fall back asleep.”

“Mama…”

“She needs someone,” I told him in a harsh whisper.

I paused, wondering, maybe even hoping that Xavier might get up instead. Hush, babe, he’d say. You’ve been doing this for four years. Let me have a go.

But he just turned over onto his side and continued sleeping, blissfully unaware of the choices that needed to be made. The child who needed to be comforted.

I crept into her room to find Sofia awake and drying her teary eyes on her covers. She looked impossibly small on one of the twin beds set up for the children of the past, blinking blearily into the night in her new surroundings.

“Hush, baby,” I told her, and I crawled into the bed and pulled her into my arms. “Mama’s here. You’re safe.”

She whimpered unintelligibly but nuzzled into my chest, allowing me to bury my nose in her hair and inhale that soft scent she’d carried since she was born. Something deep within me relaxed. No matter my insecurities about this place and Xavier’s life, this was a place I would always belong. This was a place I knew, holding my daughter, comforting her in the night.

I fell asleep in the bed next to hers that had been put in for countless nannies, maybe even governesses over the years who had to spend nights with little ones just like this.

When I awoke just after sunrise, Sofia was still snoozing behind the four-poster curtains. I returned to my room, careful to close the door behind me as quietly as I could to not wake the slumbering giant waiting for me.

I needn’t have done so.

The bed was empty. It took a long time, but eventually, I fell back asleep alone.