Page 100 of Vexatious Queen

“Remain so calm when she speaks to you like that? I want to choke the shit out of her,” Nash growled.

Marcus chuckled. “You’re not the only one.”

Nash helped me out of my coat and hung it up.

“I guess because I’m starting to understand her. Vicky is a lot like you, Nash.”

Marcus laughed, and the rich, happy sound earned him a glare from Nash.

“Take that back or I’m putting you over my knee,” he grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. “The only difference is that you had the guys and me in your life. You chose to deal with your emotions in a more constructive way.”

Nash arched his brow.

“I’m serious. Think back to how you used to treat me, hell, treat anyone. How many broken hearts litter the road of your past? I bet you’ll find more similarities than you want to acknowledge.”

Nash took my coat from me as I looked at the closed door.

“I feel for her…I think she’s lost and hurting, but too proud to ever admit it.”

“That is very astute of you, daughter.”

I turned around to see my father standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“And I agree. Victoria has much pride and pain. Those two emotions never marry well,” he said, stepping forward and opening his arms.

With a smile, I hugged him tight and was once more reminded of how thankful I was to have him in my life.

“And it is your compassion, reginette, that is your greatest strength. But only if you remember not to let it become your greatest weakness,” he said, pulling back and staring into my eyes. My heart warmed as I nodded.

He held out his hand for Nash to shake.

“Good to see you again, son.”

“You, too, sir.”

“Is it just the two of you? I thought everyone was coming to dinner,” Dad said, looking genuinely disappointed.

“Myles will be along for dessert. He’s at Golden Oak having dinner and a catch-up with Lip. Theo, Blake, and Liam are checking on Ethan. He’s still not doing well,” I said as Eddie guided us toward the den.

“Yes, I’ve reached out, but he’s hurting and still very closed off. I might have to rethink my approach,” he said, sitting down in one of the large chairs.

Nash and I took the couch, while Marcus stood by the door.

“Well, since it is just the four of us, why don’t we take our meal in here at the small table. No point in eating in the dining room. It’s too large and ostentatious and without the warmth of a crowd it feels more like a museum.”

“Sure. This is actually my favorite room in the house,” I said, and Dad chuckled.

He looked at home in the wingback chair, fire crackling behind him, and a sprinkling of snow sticking to the windows. I couldn’t help but picture what Christmases would’ve been like if we’d been able to stay together as a family. What would be different, what would be the same, and who would still be alive, or not?

“Sounds about right. This is the only room in the house that Patricia never bothered to remodel. She rarely spent time in here, said it was too small and stuffy.”

That didn’t surprise me. The more I learned about Patricia, the more I understood Vicky. But what I couldn’t understand was how Dad had managed to stay married to her all this time. Deal or no deal, I would’ve dug a very large hole and pushed her in by now.

A server walked in with a decanter and a glass. She poured my father a drink and handed it to him.

“Penelope, we will be moving dinner in here for the evening,” he said.