Lucien nodded and beckoned his wife to come along. They made their way back to their rooms and Harriet moved throughthe room to sit in front of the fire. She wanted to look around at everything. The walls were covered in a cornflower-blue silk print with white as the accenting trim. It worked well with the gold-and-navy furniture pieces. Once she could add her own touches along with Lucien’s, it would be perfect for them.
Harriet sat and watched him as he went through the correspondence the butler had given him.
“This is for you,” he said with a sardonic smile as he passed it to her.
She looked over the writing and snorted. “This is from my mother and father, and it’s addressed to both of us.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Opening the letter, Harriet scanned the contents quickly and let out a loud, unladylike snort. She reread the letter one more time to be sure she’d read it correctly.
“I don’t know if that noise you just made is good or not or is it humorous?”
“My mother is informing us of a party she and my father are giving in our honor to celebrate our marriage,” Harriet replied.
“How can she do that when she doesn’t know if we’ve returned.”
“You catch on quickly, Lucien. Your father may have mentioned something to my father, who in turn told my mother.”
“That’s feasible,” he replied.
She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was for her mother to do something like this. It would be turned into a spectacle. Her mother didn’t know how to do anything halfway. For some reason that Harriet didn’t know, her mother seemed to need to prove herself to her peers.
“I’ll send her a reply and insist we meet before she goes any further,” Harriet said.
“She should be amenable to that. It would give her a chance to see you alone.”
Nodding, Harriet considered how she could do this. “I’ll ask her to come to lunch here. That way if she wants to pull one of her theatrics, she can without embarrassing herself.”
“Good. Let me know what you decide,” Lucien replied.
“I suppose I should write out a reply now so she will get it promptly. I saw a writing desk in our sitting room. I think I’ll go there.”
“That would be a good idea. I’ll join you so I can read these and decide how to respond.” He held up paper in his fist that was holding on to the correspondence addressed to him.
As she sat at the writing desk, Harriet knew her mother would probably show up in person, unannounced once she realized she and Lucien had returned. There would be no stopping her, except perhaps having the butler lie when she did arrive like that.
Turning to glance at her husband and what he was up to, Harriet scanned his face. He was deep in thought, making notes in a book he carried. It appeared he’d read a couple of missives already and had moved on to the next.
“You know as much as I am looked at as a fair and honest businessman, the more I cringe. There are a few who simply don’t listen and want to be in charge. They’re sort of like your mother; they don’t take no for an answer. And I’m certainly not supposed to have any sort of personal life.”
“You must be speaking of the prince,” Harriet said.
He barked out a laugh. “Am I that obvious?”
“He’s the only one who can ruffle your feathers.”
“That’s because everyone else is normal and respects the protocol.”
“Remember,” Harriet said, “he makes you a lot of money and refers you to his friends and colleagues.”
“I keep telling myself that.”
“Should I write Daphne and Arthur and let them know we’ve returned?” Harriet asked.
“Or I can. I have a couple of things I need to ask Arthur.”
“Perfect,” she replied.
