“It’s well past noon now. I’m asking you very politely now, Lord Grabe, to please get out of my house.”
“Yes, Mrs. Moon,” he said, taking a step and gulping as his giant body heaved in revolt.
“Potted plant in the hallway will do nicely,” she said as he made her way past her, and then Leo could hear the retching.
The sound did not bother him while he lay with his eyes closed. It was when he opened them that he could smell absolutely everything. Himself, the cushions, the scotch bottle that Lord Grabe had brought over to celebrate a new year.
When Leo sat up, his world spun and his stomach clenched.
“Water!” his mother called, and in came Jeffrey with an ewer. After Jeffrey left, his mother banged the study door closed with her cane.
“Your timing is impeccable,” he said, his voice rasping against his dry throat. She sank down in a nearby chair and watched as he drank directly from the ewer, and then used its accompanying bowl to splash his face.
“Better?” she asked.
He nodded as his stomach flipped over. “Coffee?”
“It is on the way,” she promised. “But first I need you to answer some questions.”
He felt suddenly as if she were his captor, making promises in exchange for something she wanted. “Of course.”
“Why have I received a letter from Prudence Cabot lamenting the end of our friendship?” She held up a letter. “It’s postmarked from Paris.”
He snatched it away from her, desperate for word from her. He’d checked her hotel, but she wasn’t there, and then the next time he’d gone by, even her luggage was gone. The manager would give no forwarding address. He’d debated going to the houses of her friends, of going straight to Lord Rascomb, but then he felt too desperate and wanted to wait until he could think straight again.
My Dear Mrs. Moon,
I write to tell you how much I have valued your friendship, expertise, and strength during my time in London. You must know now that your son and I pursued a type of courtship that did not bloom as it could have. While I sincerely love our friendship, the tenor of my last conversation with Mr. Moon prevents me from continuing our acquaintance. It is too painful to consider the reminder, especially in light of what you shared with me regarding your past. One must value the relationships that protect and strengthen, not threaten and abandon.
I am now on my travels to Switzerland, and I ask you to watch the newspapers come June and July for reports of our successful ascent. The path will be grueling, but I know that I am capable of enduring hardship.
My sincere admiration,
Prudence Cabot
Leo let the letter drop into his lap. She was already gone. He felt hollowed out, as if his blood had been filled with ice and shattered. He looked up at his mother.
“What did she mean ‘threaten and abandon?’” Mrs. Moon looked quite serious.
Leo shook his head. “I didn’t threaten her.”
She lifted her eyebrows, looked expectant.
“She is accusing me of something I didn’t do,” he tried again. The horrified look on his mother’s face had him equally horrified when he realized what she thought. “No no no. No. Mama. Mother. I would never.”
She frowned, but still said nothing.
He cleared his throat, wishing he had some coffee. “Last summer, while you were away, I also went away, with Mrs. Cabot. Prudence.”
His mother canted her head when he said Prudence’s given name. But he’d have to grit his way through his discomfort for his mother to think him a decent human being. His father had not given her the best mold of manhood, and he couldn’t blame her for being skeptical.
“While we were away, in Thornridge, at the Garden Cottage—”
“You took her to Thornridge.” She blinked rapidly.
“Yes, I did, I thought—”
“—and you thought you could show up anywhere near Thornridge and your father would not find out you were there?” She thumped her cane.
