Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 710(@200wpm)___ 568(@250wpm)___ 473(@300wpm)
Rowena does… nothing. Just stands there. In shock, probably, and I think she might have stopped breathing altogether, but finally, she shudders, and with a half sigh or silent sob, she raises her face to mine and kisses my cheek.
“My boy,” she whispers and cups my face, her eyes brimming with tears.
“Oh, Mama,” I mutter and kiss her forehead.
“I’m sorry,” she says almost inaudibly.
“I know. Me too.”
* * *
Alessia watches the mother-and-son exchange that unfolds before her, and tears prick her eyes. And even though she can’t hear what they’re saying, it’s more than she could have hoped for…
She glances at her sisters-in-law. Maryanne is stunned into silence as she gapes at her mother and brother while Caroline stares at them, frowning in utter confusion. Finally, she scowls.
“What the hell is going on?” Caroline exclaims.
* * *
“You haven’t told her?” Rowena asks me.
I shake my head. “No.”
She nods, a trace of, dare I say, admiration teasing her lips. “You are just like your father. I think you are the best of him.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
She half smiles, then rolls her eyes. “All these… feelings. This is frightfully bourgeois.”
I chuckle. “I know.”
She steps out of my embrace, taking the weight of my anger with her.
“Will somebody please explain what’s happening here?” Caroline says.
“Caroline, darling. I think I have some explaining to do,” Rowena says. “But first, Alessia.”
* * *
Alessia’s heart starts pumping as Maxim’s mother faces her and raises her chin.
What is this?
“I owe you an apology.”
Alessia’s scalp tingles—she is not expecting this.
“What I said to you the last time we met was unforgivable. Heath had been interfering, as you know. But I brought him to heel. I didn’t want him going to the press. Anyway, I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me all the same.”
Alessia rises from her seat and moves toward Rowena. “Of course,” she says.
Rowena holds out a hand, and Alessia takes it, surprised at the chilliness of her mother-in-law’s fingers. “You have a generous spirit, my dear. Don’t lose that.”
“My husband has lost one parent, and you have lost a child… Neither one of you needs to lose another.”
Rowena blinks a couple of times, her surprise obvious. “Yes. That’s exactly right.” She squeezes Alessia’s hand. “You’ve had quite the effect on my son.”
“And he on me.”
Maxim wraps his arm around Alessia’s shoulders and kisses her temple.
“I hear great things from the Hall about you, my dear,” Rowena adds kindly.
“Could someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Caroline snaps.
“Let me fix you a drink, Mother,” Maxim says.
“Wine. Please, darling.” She sits in one of the armchairs facing the fireplace, and Alessia takes a seat on the couch.
“Are you ready to hear this?” She’s addressing her children.
“Yes,” Maryanne and Maxim say simultaneously.
“Hear what?” Caroline asks, still bewildered.
Maryanne turns to Caroline. “Daddy was not Kit’s father.”
“What?” Caroline pales and looks from Maryanne to Maxim, but he’s busy pouring wine.
“It’s true,” Rowena says, frowning at Maryanne, probably because she’s just blurted out Rowena’s secret so rudely.
“I’m just catching Caro up on events,” Maryanne says in her defense.
Caroline’s lips part, but it’s not from surprise—more like recognition.
“I didn’t mean to spring this on you, Caro darling. I thought I might be able to tell you privately. I didn’t expect the rest of the family would be here. Apologies for that.”
Caroline nods as if she understands… or she’s in shock. Alessia’s not sure.
* * *
I put a glass of chilled Chablis on the coffee table in front of my mother and take my place beside Alessia.
“Do you want to hear this?” Rowena is addressing Caroline.
“I do,” Caro responds quietly.
“Okay. I’ll keep this brief,” she says in her clipped mid-Atlantic tone. She folds her hands in her lap and stares into the waning fire. “When I first came down to London, I was naive and stupid. I wasn’t interested in taking the university place that I had secured; I wanted to have fun. My parents had been terribly strict, but they seemed to abandon all parental control once I moved out. I was lucky, I was living in Kensington with friends from school, and one of them had a job as a model. She dragged me along to her agency. They signed me up, and the rest, as they say… I became what was known as an It-girl.” She says the final two words with disdain.
“It was the ’80s. Greed was good. And I was greedy. I embraced the scene, parties, shoulder pads, big hair… and one day, I met a man who I thought was a good sort, a musician with a good head on his shoulders.
“Well, he was unattainable, and I became obsessed. But one night, after a great deal of alcohol… well, I attained him. I won’t go into the sordid details, and he wanted nothing to do with me after that.