“You know how much I like Prim,” Edwin commented.
“I am extremely grateful for this insightful sharing of emotions. If that is all, I will take my leave.”
“I like Prim, and I like the effects she has on you.”
“What kind of effect are you talking about? I’m the same man I always was.”
Edwin laughed a hearty laugh that made his whole body shake, obviously amused by what Leo was saying.
“It is different, isn’t it?” Edwin said seriously.
“What is?”
“Going home because you want to. Because there is someone waiting for you.”
Leo didn’t answer that, not that he had to. Edwin had a way of always knowing what he had in his mind without having to say so explicitly. But admitting what Edwin was saying was right, it meant it became real. Leo was dealing with a lot of things, yet not all of them were real. It was a rare occasion for him, and spelling it out loud here in Edwin’s office, with his best friend and sober, made the fact that he really wanted to go back home, extremely true.
“Is this a poetry session or a philosophical discussion?” Leo checked his watch. “Just so I know how much time this nonsense will take.”
“More of a practical advice. Urging you to focus on the things you have, and that for many people, those things are not granted,” Edwin said seriously.
“Perfect. A little bit of nonsense never harmed anyone in the afternoon.”
“I find that it encourages digestion.”
Leo chuckled and left the room, walked briskly through the corridors, and made his way to his carriage. Edwin was not wrong. Spending the evening at home with the same woman was not something that Leo was used to doing. Miss Byrne still looked at him with disbelief every time he entered the house andgot ready for dinner. Or it might have been the fact that his own housekeeper was officially more loyal to Prim.
The carriage hurried through the streets of London till it reached the outskirts, where his mansion was. He used to hate seeing the towers of his house, their size bringing more sad feelings of confinement rather than sanctuary and safety.
But this was not the case anymore. There was a strange feeling inside him each time he saw the iron gate outside his estate, a sweet anticipation as they rode to the entrance.
There was a logical explanation, and deep down, Leo knew exactly what it was. The house was the same, the staff was the same. There was only one new variable. Prim. In a sense, the house was not the same anymore, and the staff treated him differently. It should have felt like an intrusion. But it didn't. It had all the makings of an upgrade.
That eagerness came over him when he saw the towers of his estate. There was a weirdly fresh routine established between them. He and Prim would have dinner, and they would talk about every mundane thing that happened in their life. Things that would have had Leon cut off his ear rather than listen to not so long ago. But when it was her narrating these little nothings, he couldn’t help but stare at her. And he noticed every little detail, her expression, her face, and her clothes.
“Welcome, Your Grace,” his butler welcomed him.
“Where is Her Grace?”
“You will find her in the Chinese drawing room.”
Leo smiled. His little wife had managed to make the Mildenhall Estate a vibrant and fashionable residence, pouring life into the cold walls, keeping the essence but adding her own. Like a real Duchess.
Leo was proud of her, of how she had grown from the girl he had met to the woman that she was now pursuing her own impossible goals while guarding his name and legacy.
As he approached the drawing room, he could hear two voices coming from inside. That was not strange. The almost obscure bachelorette that she was had bloomed into a social flower with strong roots and an intoxicating smell. And though she didn't feel ready to host any balls, an invitation for tea in that particular drawing room was much sought after by the ladies of the ton.
The door was open, and Leo walked right through, ready to dazzle any guest Prim was trying to impress. Only to freeze on the spot. There in the middle of his estate was Bridget.
All his excitement and anticipation evaporated in a second. It was replaced by a profound sense of something that he had never felt before. Violation. This woman, his mother, had been the center of this household while he was growing up. And after his father died, she chose to leave it and him behind. And now she was back visiting as if this were a simple social call?
It wasn't just his abandonment. That he could begrudgingly attribute to sorrow and mourning. But she deliberatelyconceived and executed a plan to destroy him, her own son, and eventually his wife. That made her apersona non gratain his household.
He didn't even look at Bridget, because she really didn't matter to him. But he did turn his attention to Prim. She had been warned twice about his feelings when it came to his mother. He thought that he had made it abundantly clear that he didn't want to have any connection to her anymore. His only goal was to have in his hands the proof he needed to reveal this vile scheme and end this charade once and for all.
Yet, somehow, here she was, in his home, hosted by his own wife. Prim should have known better than to follow protocol and good manners when it came to Bridget.
“Explain this. Now.”
