Well, except for maybe one.
“I’ve missed you as well,” Lila said as she finally pulled away. “Alex.”
Her old friend smiled at the return of her first name. “I’d better go help Chef with breakfast.”
Without another word, Alex peeked into the hallway, then slipped out the door.
Lila twirled her sapphire ring and gave one last look at her bedroom, wondering if it would still belong to her when she returned. She could pay a decorator to recreate it in a new house somewhere. She had plenty of money in her accounts. Perhaps she’d take Alex with her and run away to Burgundy.
Perhaps her friend would forgive her.
She’d taken one step closer, at least.
Lila shook her head at the beautiful, impractical dream and jogged downstairs. She found her mother in the morning room, a room surrounded on three sides by glass and the backyard gardens. Usually spectacular in the spring, much of the color now came from the crimson maple trees and evergreens surrounding the great house.
The chairwoman sat at a table laden with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and blackberries. Pewter pitchers of milk and orange juice loomed over the meal. An open bottle of Gregorie perched in the middle.
“Come, Lila,” her mother said tiredly, beckoning her with one twitch of a finger. Her crimson dress and silvercoat flowed about her in a wispy pile of fabric. Matching boots completed the look. She’d arranged her silver hair so that it hung straight around her face, nearly hiding her crow’s feet and
the fine lines in her forehead, all made deeper by her pensive expression. Dark circles marred the skin under her eyes, a rare look for the chairwoman. “Do you know why I’ve summoned you here this morning?”
Lila stepped into the room and rested her hands upon a chair back, the seat upholstered in crimson and gold. “I suppose that Jewel needs my assistance with something.”
Her mother stiffened at Jewel’s name and sipped her orange juice. “You always seem to know more than you let on.”
Two weeks ago the statement would have been true. Lila usually knew a great deal about what went on in the compound. Though her mother’s spy network was impossible to best, Lila had learned from a master. She’d made an art of indulging the workborn on every Randolph compound throughout Saxony and bribing several key relations in each location. She also exploited WolfNet to her advantage.
She’d heard no news about Jewel, though, except from Alex.
The chairwoman cleared her throat. “Your sister has decided to marry.”
“Marry the senator?”
“Senator Dubois. He has a name and a title. Do not be impolite.”
“Yes, Senator Louis Oliver Masson-Dubois. I know his name and title,” Lila said, finally falling into a seat beside her mother.
Lila rubbed at her eyes. All this time, she’d obsessed over taking other lovers, just so she wouldn’t get too attached to Tristan, and Jewel had been thinking of marriage? “I can’t believe you’re worried about politeness at a time like this. Marriage, Mother? Are we workborn, or are we highborn?”
“Highborns marry,” the chairwoman replied grumpily.
Lila shot her a look.
“Occasionally we marry. It’s becoming more common.”
Lila reached for a dish of blackberries and popped one in her mouth. “Surely you’ve counseled her against this. She’s prime. She needs an heir. How will she do that if she couples exclusively with a man as unproven as Senator Dubois? I like him immensely, Mother, I really do, but he’s had several seasons to get the job done. He’s failed time and time again.”
The chairwoman pursed her lips and cast her eyes down at the table.
“You told her the same thing, and she ignored you.” Lila snatched the Gregorie and poured herself a generous glass. “Surely someone can get through to her. Prime or not, no one should tie themselves down to one person forever, much less bind themselves in a marriage contract. That’s not love. That’s a business arrangement, and a rather dumb one at that. She’ll regret it entirely after they’ve drifted apart.”
“She can always get a divorce.”
“That will go over well at parties.” Lila dumped several pancakes and a heaping spoonful of eggs onto her plate, then poured maple syrup over the lot. “When did Jewel make this decision?”
“The couple made it last night.”
“The couple? Jewel is twenty-four years old. She’s far too young to marry. She’s always wanted a large family. She cannot mean to throw that away for a man who has not managed one child in four years. She’ll be lucky to bear two or three at this rate. And what of the senator? His political career will be over before it’s begun.”