“Your Grace,” she greeted. “You appear occupied.”
“I am,” George replied coolly. “This is not a convenient moment.”
“And yet,” Sylvia said, “you are not leaving.”
He did not rise to the implication.
“What do you want?”
“Only a moment of your time. I had hoped to speak with you privately, so I am pleased to have found you here.”
“You have one moment.”
Sylvia was surprised by his coldness, as she always was, and George wondered how long it would take her to understand that he would not be changing such a demeanor. He did not want to give her any false hope, unlike his grandmother.
“This house feels very different than it did under your father.”
“That is intentional.”
“And yet, I rather think that he would have enjoyed this gathering. He always believed in alliances forged early, as youknow. Our fathers understood one another very well, in that respect. They spoke often of what was proper, and what was best.”
George met her gaze steadily. He knew what she was suggesting, but he had no intentions of indulging it.
“My father spoke of many things.”
“And some of them were promises,” she pressed.
“They were intentions,” he corrected. “Not obligations.”
“You know that he wished–”
“I know very well what he wished,” George interrupted. “And I have spent a lifetime ensuring that his wishes do not dictate my actions.”
Her smile faltered.
“You dishonor his memory.”
“I honor it by being my own man.”
She stepped back, eyes lowering.
“I wish I knew what had changed in you. You were never like this before. There was a time where you listened to me, George, and now–”
“You cannot use my name like that. That is not acceptable.”
“We were always supposed to be married, Your Grace. This is what our father had arranged for us. It is what everyone had expected… and now?—”
“I have no intention of being a marionette for society’s amusement, nor will I dance to a tune written by fathers who are no longer here. The path has changed. You would do well to accept it.”
She quietened once more. George wondered why his grandmother never seemed to see this side of her, for it was all he knew. She was not some sweet young lady that was exceptional in every way; she was cruel, and there was no changing that.
“One might have thought that you respected your father enough to honor his wishes, but you could at least have refrained from encouraging my belief that you would.”
“My grandmother misled you,” George said calmly. “You know that I never encouraged any expectations.”
Silence fell between them. In truth, he had never once allowed her to think that he would marry her, for he had never wanted to,but he was aware that she knew of the plans that had been made and had therefore seen things that were never there. She was not to be blamed for it entirely, but then nor was he.
“At least tell me this,” Sylvia said at last. “Does she know?”
