Page 136 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
No wonder nobody believed me when I said I was technically the head of the household.
The woman ran roughshod over everything.
Including me.
But right now, none of that really mattered. All I wanted was to see Sylvie. To see with my own eyes that she was all right. She was the fiercest person I knew, so for her to be all but hiding from her family meant she was beyond the point of anger.
She didn’t run away from her problems.
The only thing that woman ran away from was her real feelings for me and look where that had gotten her.
In my house.
And me in her bed.
I pulled into the estate and parked out the front. I barely remembered to lock my car after me as I rushed inside, sweeping past the housekeeper who’d held the door open for me. Her eyes widened when I stopped and quickly turned to her.
“Where is my mother?”
She swallowed. “Her Grace is in the kitchen with Lady Zara and Miss Bethany.”
“Thank you. For the door, too.” I spun in the direction of the kitchen, and no sooner had I taken a few steps than the sound of Beth’s tinkling laugh reached my ears.
I was glad they were having a fun time. I certainly wasn’t.
“Hey,” I said, stopping in the doorway. “Where’s Sylvie?”
My sister turned, raising one eyebrow. “What makes you think we’d know?”
“I wasn’t asking you.” I met Mum’s gaze. “Where’s Sylvie?”
She sighed, spun on the stool, and looked at me. “She’s in your office.”
“Why is she in my office?”
“She said she had work to do.”
That did not answer my question in the slightest.
“She also said that if she had to go home and see Hazel, she was going to, and I quote—” Beth paused. “What was it? Ah, yeah. She said she was going to shove a fire poker up her sister’s arse.”
Yeah.
That made perfect sense.
Zara snorted. “How do you not know? I think the entire village knows what happened between them today. Someone even said they heard Sylvie yelling at Hazel from outside.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Mother? Care to elaborate?”
She sighed again, as if my caring questions were an endless source of pain and suffering for her. “Hazel didn’t order the decorations for the trees.”
My stomach clenched involuntarily. “What do you mean she didn’t order the decorations?”
“Exactly what I said. It’s the one thing she asked to do, Sylvie trusted her, and she messed it up.” Mum reached for her tea and sipped it. “They had a huge fight, I got Sylvie out of there, then brought her back here when she clearly didn’t want to return home.”
“Why does she have to leave? It’s her house. She owns it.”
“Because their parents are staying there,” Beth replied. “She’s pretty pissed at her mum, too.”
