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“Mother, Susanna.” His rich, deep voice is the slightest bit shaky, and I know he’s nervous. “How are you?”
“George, my darling!” Mother leaps to her feet and practically runs to him, pulling him into an embrace and forcing him to let go of his new girlfriend’s hand.
Reminding good ol’ Lady Priscilla that she will always come second in his life if Mother has anything to say about it.
“Such an enthusiastic greeting.” George laughs nervously, pulling out of her embrace. He returns to Priscilla’s side, resting his hand at the small of her back and guiding her toward us. “Mother, I want to introduce you to Lady Priscilla Fischer.”
“Priscilla. So lovely to meet you.” Mother takes her hand and holds it, as if she’s waiting for Priscilla to curtsy. But she doesn’t, of course. My mother isn’t the queen, though she believes she’s the queen of her castle.
God, I wish Evie were here right now, watching this unfold. She would be laughing her arse off.
“And this is my sister,” George says after Mother and Priscilla are done with their pleasantries. “Susanna, this is Priscilla.”
“I’m so happy to meet you,” Priscilla says as she enthusiastically shakes my hand. Her smile is wide, her teeth blindingly white. “George has told me so much about you.”
A blank smile appears on my face. I wish I could say the same about her, but I can’t. George hasn’t mentioned her at all. “I’m glad you were able to join us this weekend.”
“Oh, me too! I’m thrilled to be a
ble to celebrate your parents’ wedding anniversary with the family,” Priscilla says.
Wait, it’s their anniversary weekend? How could I forget? Oh, I’m sure my mother is absolutely furious at my father that he’s out hunting in the rain with the neighbors, instead of spending time with her.
This ought to make for an interesting weekend.
“You must give me every detail,” Evie says the moment I enter the bedroom we’re sharing. She refuses to sleep anywhere but in my room, and thankfully I have two double beds. She firmly believes my family’s estate is haunted, and it might very well be, though the ghosts leave me alone.
“Every detail about what?” I ask as I quietly shut the door behind me. I’d planned on trying to take a nap, but from the current state Evie seems to be in, I can tell my nap plans will have to wait.
Evie’s hair is sticking up every which way, like she’s clawed her fingers through it the entire time I’ve been downstairs with Mother, and her eyes are a little wild, darting here and there as she nervously chews on her lower lip. If I didn’t know her better, I’d almost wonder if she was having some sort of anxiety attack. Or perhaps a seizure.
She’s looking quite unhinged.
“Every detail about your brother’s new girlfriend, of course.” The tone of her voice is one big duh, like I should know what she’s asking for. “What’s she like?”
“She’s very nice,” I say as I grab my duffel bag from the floor and throw it on my bed, unzipping it so I can pull out the black cardigan I packed. The old house is drafty, and the bedroom wing in particular is extra cold.
“Very nice? That’s it? That’s all you can say?” she asks incredulously.
I turn to face her. Evie’s standing in front of me with her hands on her hips and a hostile expression on her face. Clearly my earlier suspicions are more than confirmed. My best friend has a thing for my older brother.
Ew.
“George seems quite taken with her,” I say, purposely trying to drive her crazy, which is cruel of me, but please. She can’t be with George. He’s my brother. What if it doesn’t work out? I don’t want to be caught in the middle of their sordid affair, because that’s all it would end up being.
A sordid affair. Most definitely.
My mother wouldn’t allow it either. She hates Evie. And Evie hates her. Why in the world would she want to be with my older brother when he is constantly seeking the approval of his mother?
“She’s absolutely beautiful,” Evie says, her voice low, and when I send her a sharp look, she shrugs helplessly. “I spied on you all in the sitting room.”
“Peeking through the cracks of the doors?” I ask jokingly.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I did.” She starts pacing the room, running her fingers through her hair and tugging on the ends in seeming frustration. “She looks like a fucking model,” she practically wails.
“She is rather tall.”
“And gorgeous!”
