Chapter 18

EIGHTEEN

I didn’t tell him when I was ready to go. Either time.

The first was minutes after we had last spoken, and I just didn’t want to be that girl.

The second was because I was drunkety-drunk drunk, and I’ll admit, a complete mess.

As promised, I found the punch, then proceeded to anger-drink several more glasses of champagne and tell at least five verifiable noblemen to sod off in my best Queen’s English when I caught them staring at my décolletage. They did not find it amusing.

I kept spotting Xavier lurking about the party, almost always with his hand on Frederick’s shoulder, doing his duty and introducing his stepbrother to the right people. I was drunk, but not to the point that I wanted to ruin the real reason they were here. It was when I spotted Xavier woefully accepting Imogene’s offered hand and escorting her to the dance floor that I was really and truly done.

I borrowed fifty pounds from Adam in exchange for my London phone number and got a car to Parkvale. By the time I arrived, I found myself even angrier than before. And still completely three sheets to the wind.

“May I help you?” asked the man who opened the arched front doors. Like Gibson, he was also dressed in a starched black suit. A livery, was it? Did butlers wear livery, or was that just footmen?

I was honestly too wasted to remember.

“Step aside, Jeeves,” I ordered. “I’ve had a hell of a night, and I need a giant vat of wine and a bath, if you don’t mind.”

“Pardon, miss!” The butler blocked my entrance to the house. “We are not in the business of allowing vagrants on the premises. I must ask you to leave.”

“Fat chance,” I snarled as I tried to shove my way around him.

Screw this guy. Screw all these people. I had absolutely no tolerance for this world right now, and that included this pompous penguin.

Then something occurred to me. “This is Parkvale, isn’t it?”

It would be just my luck that on top of everything else, I’d have ended up at the wrong freaking house.

“Bledsoe, it’s all right.”

The butler and I both turned to find Elsie clipping down the hall, clad in her usual attire of a wool skirt and knit cardigan, even in the balmy August evening.

“For heaven’s sake, Bledsoe, that’s Lady Sofia’s mother, Miss Francesca,” she scolded him. “Let her through!”

“Gotcha, Jeeves,” I cut at him as I ducked under his braced arm. “I do belong here, after all.”

The butler sniffed and closed the door behind me with a harder click than was strictly necessary.

“My, my, aren’t we in a state?” Elsie took my arm and guided me down the hall. “Aren’t you home a bit early? I wasn’t expecting you until later.” She glanced over my shoulder, as if the front door might open again. “And where is the boy?”

“The boy?” I repeated. “The boy is too busy kissing every arse in England and dancing with Great Britain Barbie to bother with the mother of his child. If Sofia’s even his, that is. Who knows these days, am I right?”

My words slurred together, but even beneath my drunken haze, I was embarrassed. Embarrassed by my own behavior, but also for being that stupid girlfriend, the needy one who requires her boyfriend’s attention all the stupid time.

I wasn’t this girl. I was a mother. A good sister, half-decent teacher, all-around respectable gal. I was a reasonably self-sufficient human being who had never once needed a man to make her feel worthwhile.

And yet here I was, bitching and moaning because my boyfriend didn’t dance with me at the party.

What a wreck.

“Oh, darling, of course she’s his. Everyone knows it. After all, she’s the spitting image, isn’t she?”

God, I was tired of hearing that.

“I dunno,” I slurred as I was guided into a sitting room with a large fire crackling between several enormous built-in bookshelves, all filled with what was probably another priceless library. “Haven’t you heard, Els? I’m a liar, prob’ly just out for his money. Pullin’ it over him with a secret baby. The papers all say so.” I snorted loudly. “Maybe we should just get a DNA test and be done with it, amiright?”

Elsie settled me into one of the chairs near the fire, then waved a hand at the butler, who was lurking in the doorway like a disapproving bat. “Tea, Bledsoe.”

“But, ma’am, I shouldn’t think it right to leave you alone with…her.”

“At once,” Elsie snapped.

Bledsoe nodded and left.

“So long, Jeeves,” I called as I collapsed into one of the overstuffed chairs. “Elsie, where’s Sofia? I want to say good night.”

“Oh, Little Miss has been asleep for hours. Went out like a light, if I do say so. You’ll see her in the morning.” Elsie took her own seat across from me. “Now, why don’t you tell me what happened that sent you home alone without your escort, eh? I know I taught him better than that.”

But I just shook my head. “He had more important things to attend to than a sad American in a cheap dress.” I pulled at the material. “I bought it for him, you know. Spent a whole two hundred dollars. That’s a lot for me.”

I was sulking. Hard. I knew I shouldn’t be so upset. These were small things, and Xavier was under so much stress. Was it so bad to expect me to experience the party on my own?

No , Lea’s voice echoed within me. Or maybe it was Kate’s. Or Marie or Joni’s. Honestly, they were all blending together tonight.

He asked you to come. Said he needed you there. And then he freaking abandoned you with those snobs.

I sniffed. Somehow, thinking like that didn’t make me feel outraged anymore. It just made me feel sad and lonely.

“Oh, sweet girl,” Elsie said calmly. “I’m certain Xavier cares more for you and Sofia than he does about anyone—or anything—else in the world.”

I shrugged like a sullen teenager. “Sure. That’s why he went off and danced with Imogene, right?”

Elsie shook her head, almost like she couldn’t believe it. “Just you wait, boy,” she muttered under her breath.

“I can’t really blame him, Elsie. He saw me talking to this man from back home. A man he really doesn’t like. I got mad at him for being rude, and so we barely spoke all night. I get it. He wasn’t there for me. He was there for his family. I had no right to ruin it all.”

Elsie watched me for a long time. Her brow furrowed a bit until she seemed to come to a decision.

“You can’t see this, my girl, but he’s changed since you and Miss Sofia came into his life,” she said. “Something in him died when his dear mother—bless her soul, you know that Masumi was one of my very best friends. I tried to help her son, but he was very hard, you know, for a long time. But when he found you and the little girl, he came back to life again. It’s just now…I think he’s figuring out what to do with that life, if that makes any sense.”

“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!”

I smiled, unsure of what to say. I wasn’t used to Nina greeting me with this kind of enthusiasm. Clearly, they were both excited about something.

“Where you been, sis?” Matthew wondered.

I looked down at my dress, then back to them. “Oh, uh, Xavier’s family had an event tonight. I, um, wasn’t feeling well, so I came back to the house early.”

“Bummer,” Matthew said.

I waited for him to pry the way only my family could. The way he normally would, back when he wasn’t so taken up by another woman in his life. Or maybe just when he wasn’t this happy.

Mentally, I chided myself for wanting otherwise.

“Well, we wanted you to be the first to know,” he said.

I tipped my head. “First to know what?”

“We’re getting married,” Matthew said. “Me and duchess—I mean, Nina, here.”

“Well, I knew that, you goon,” I told him. “Unless you forgot that big bomb you dropped on everyone last spring. You about gave Lea a heart attack when she saw Nonna’s ring on Nina’s finger. It still looks nice, by the way.”

Beside him, Nina chuckled. “Who could forget that?”

She gazed at my brother with such unadorned adoration, that jealous twinge in my stomach turned into an outright stab. For all our doubts about the woman, she really did care for him. And what’s more, she didn’t bother to hide it. There was no doubt on her face, no closed expression. Nothing but pure, unadulterated love.

After brushing a light kiss over her forehead, Matthew turned to me. “I just meant we’ve set a date. October.”

My mouth dropped. “What? That’s in less than two months. Why so soon?”

“Nina’s divorce was finalized last week, thanks to a few smart judges. I know it’s fast, but we don’t want to wait. We have been for too long. So we’re going to have a ceremony in Italy, actually. This church we found when we were there in January. You’ll love it, Frankie, for real. I can’t wait to show you. Olivia’s going to be Nina’s bridesmaid, so obviously we’ll need Sof to be the flower girl. What do you say?”

I swallowed. Matthew was babbling, and my brother didn’t really babble. It was because he wasn’t just sharing news.

We’d never really talked about it, but Matthew knew as well as I did that his getting married would be more than just a party for Sofia and me. It would affect every part of our lives.

Immediately, questions bubbled up in my mind, and not the “what does her dress look like?” sort. Where were the two of them planning to live? I wasn’t under any illusion that a Park Avenue princess like that would want to relocate to a shabby row house in Brooklyn, nor would she want to share a thousand square feet with her new husband’s sister and her four-year-old. But what did that mean for Sofia and me? Would Matthew want to sell the house? Did we have to move out? Find a roommate? Or, God above, move back in with Nonna?

“There’s more.” Matthew pulled me out of my spiral.

I inhaled deeply. More? What else was about to happen?

“The wedding’s not until October, like I said,” he was saying with a cheeky grin at Nina. “It’s the first date we could get at the church. But, before then…well, next month, actually…we’re moving.”

“Uptown?” I guessed. That answered one question, I supposed.

“In a way. Boston.”

I nearly dropped my phone.

“Nina wants to go back to school, and she only has a few more semesters to complete at Wellesley. That’s where she originally started a degree in art history, but she had to drop out when she had Olivia. You know how it goes.”

Something in my chest cracked. I did know. I hated that I knew. Matthew’s lady friend—shit, his fiancée—and I had next to nothing in common except the fact that we both understood how having a child could singularly and totally change your entire life plans.

Except in her case, she could go back to school whenever she liked. She could pick out a new apartment or house or freaking mansion like she was choosing nail polish, pop her kid into the best school in the country, marry the man of her dreams, and not worry a thing about food, electricity, utilities, or rent.

That was the difference millions of dollars made, right?

I kind of hated her for it.

Or maybe it was just that I hated myself for having none of that at all without depending on someone else. For a while, Matthew had provided me with a safety net. And now it was being ripped out from under me.

What about Xavier?

Kate’s voice in my head sounded a tone of reason.

What about Xavier? My absent boyfriend? Baby daddy? Duke friend? We loved each other, yes, but I still didn’t know what to call him. Tonight, the way I was feeling, I didn’t even know what I meant to him anymore.

He said Sofia would never want, and I believed that, but was I supposed to come crawling to him every time I needed help with a phone bill or preschool tuition? Was I supposed to continue chipping away at my sense of dignity and self-reliance until there was nothing left at all?

I could never seem to get out of this situation. I could never seem to stop depending on the whims of others to support me.

I hated it so, so much.

“Con-congratulations to you both,” I said hurriedly, already feeling the hot rush of tears threatening. I looked away, not wanting them to see my expression.

“Thanks, Frankie. But I also wanted to tell you?—”

“We’ll talk soon,” I interrupted him, swallowing back sobs that already threatened. “Tomorrow, I’ll have Sofia call so you can tell her yourself. Love you! Congrats to you and Nina.”

“But Frankie?—”

“Love you, bye,” I rushed and ended the call before he could answer. I swiped at my face, where tears were already streaking downward.

One month. That’s all I had. One month to figure out my life before Matthew left New York and gave up on me for good.

They were getting married. And yes, it was a rush, but what I heard in my brother’s voice was something more than just a crazy whim. It was the same thing he’d had every time he’d talked about Nina and their future. Love. Conviction. He knew what he wanted with her. He’d always known what he wanted from the second he saw her in that damn bar over a year ago. One look, and he’d seen their entire future and had pursued it endlessly until every sizeable obstacle was out of their path.

I was happy for them. I really was.

But I was terrified, too. More than that. At that moment, envy stabbed me with such violent thrusts, I genuinely thought it might tear me apart.