He held Sylvie tightly again, then turned, took a deep breath, and walked purposefully to the castle maze, pulling out a pack of cigarettes as he approached the high hedges.
Stunned, Sylvie went to search for Cleo, and discovered her chatting with Simon and Angus the falconer-slash-bartender. “I think Danny’s having some sort of situation,” said Sylvie.
“What?” said Cleo. She pulled Sylvie away from the bar and said, “What do you mean? He was fine a few minutes ago.”
“He’s smoking in the maze,” said Sylvie.
“He doesn’t smoke,” said Cleo. “Must be bad.” She jogged toward the topiaries and disappeared from view. From behind the hedge, Sylvie could hear her sister’s raised voice and Danny’s fraught response. Their words, thankfully, were indistinguishable, but Sylvie’s stomach ached as it always had when her parents fought at night.
“What’s going on with Cleo and Mr. Wonderful?” said Rich, after ordering a bottle of Jennings Cumbrian Ale from Angus.
“No idea,” said Sylvie.
“Is Cleo OK?” said Simon, joining them.
“Life with the Peacock sisters is never boring,” said Rich. “Welcome to the family, brother. Or is it brother-in-law?”
Simon grinned at Rich, and Sylvie felt worried—worried about the damage she would cause if she just couldn’t let go of Alexander.
“I’m very glad to join the family,” said Simon.
“Let’s just say brothers,” said Rich.
“Let’s,” said Simon.
“I could use a brother,” said Rich.
“As could I,” said Simon.
2
Cleo
“Danny, please,” said Cleo, bumming a cigarette from him. He took out his S.T. Dupont bronze lighter (he’d bought it for himself when she forgot his birthday the year before—he’d even wrapped it passive-aggressively and put it on the dining room table with flowers he’d bought for himself and a card readingHappy Birthday to my Honey).
Cleo lit her cigarette and took a deep inhalation. Wow, she’d missed smoking. No one could see them behind the bank of trees. “This is my sister’s big weekend, Danny. What’s going on?”
Danny wiped his eyes and played with his two-thousand-dollar lighter, turning the flame on and off. “I think you know what’s going on,” he said.
“Where did you even get cigarettes?”
“One of the falconers gave me a ride to the Ratty Arms, in town. It’s a pub.”
“Are you drunk?”
“No, Cleo! I’m not drunk. I’m…I’m heartbroken.”
Danny could be emotional, and Cleo was never sure how seriously to take his proclamations. Two puffs of the strong Marlboromade her nauseous, not to mention the image of rotting teeth on the British package. Cleo dropped her cigarette to the lawn, rubbed it out with the toe of her Prada sandal. She summoned her love for this man, who had grown up in poverty and wanted only Cleo (and her money). “What is it, Danny?” she said.
“What is it?” said Danny. “What IS IT?”
Cleo bit her lip and said nothing. When he lost his temper, it sometimes frightened her.
“I found your birth control pills, is what it is, Cleo,” said Danny.
“You went through my bags?”
“Cleo,” said Danny. “I got a new vial of La Mer in case you ran out. I was putting it in your toiletry kit. Did you ever notice that you never run out of La Mer?”
