London Dynasty (The Dynasties #1) - Geneva Lee Page 0,19

according to your father. I hope you don’t mind. I know I made you wait to eat.”

“Thank you,” I said softly, taking the empty seat between Iris and Spencer’s sister. I had no idea what Kerrigan’s favorite was, and I prayed it wouldn’t turn out to be something disgusting like snails or whatever places like this served to people with too much money. Picking up the linen napkin at my place setting, I laid it on my lap.

“I’m so chuffed to meet you. I’m actually shaking, see?” She held up her hand to demonstrate.

“Oh! Me too.” I hoped that any lingering color on my cheeks would be excused as excitement or nerves.

“I’ve always wanted a sister and—”

“Evelyn,” her mother cut her off sharply. “Kerrigan doesn’t want to hear about that. There’s still a lot to be decided. Let’s give her a few hours to settle into being home again.”

The youngest Byrd looked very little like her mother. Whereas the elder exhibited the poise of a woman accustomed to walking amongst the highest rings of society, Evelyn seemed about to bubble over at any moment like a kettle left on the heat too long. They shared the same fair skin, but age had hewn the older woman into sharp angles that were polished with expensive clothes and jewelry. Evelyn was curvy and round, her cheeks as rosy and warm as her artless smile. She wore a simple floral dress that had been chosen to flatter her ample figure but had none of the tailored couture of her mother’s structured, navy blue sheath.

“I don’t mind, Mrs. Byrd,” I said, taking a sip of water from a crystal goblet.

“Please call me Caroline,” she corrected me. “We are practically family.”

“I don’t mind, Caroline,” I backpedaled, starting to feel as though I was suffering from whiplash. Things needed to be decided, but we were practically family? Next to me, Iris fidgeted in her chair a little as if she was thinking the same thing.

“You must tell us what you’re wearing to the reception tomorrow,” Caroline said, tipping her chin as her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She was appraising me. It was the first day of class, and she was here presenting me with a pop quiz.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” I admitted.

Iris went rigid beside me, telling me that I had answered incorrectly.

“But it’s tomorrow,” Caroline pressed.

“Mum, let her alone.” Evie shook her head, rolling her eyes with the passion only a teenage girl could muster. “Not everyone cares about clothes.”

“Someone must, Evie darling.” She turned to Iris conspiratorially. “If I didn’t put clothes in her closet, this one would go about naked—and that would be disastrous.”

I saw the glide of her daughter’s throat as she swallowed the subtle insult her mother had lobbed in her direction.

“I like clothes, but I prefer shoes,” I said, trying to shift the topic of conversation before Caroline could toss another dart at Evelyn. “I already chose those. I always start my outfits by choosing my shoes.”

“Oh, I like that,” Evie said.

“You and I should go shoe shopping,” I said. “What are you wearing tomorrow?”

“Um,” she hedged, glancing toward her mother, “I was thinking about this rose-colored gown that—”

“It doesn’t suit you, darling,” Caroline stopped her. “I had Lana steam that new black dress I picked up for you at Harrods.”

Evie nodded, her smile cracking at the edges.

“Perhaps, I’ll wear black as well,” I said, trying to lift her spirits without insulting Caroline. I was having a hard time not rounding the table and dumping my water over the woman’s head. She deserved it, but Kerrigan Belmond would never do such a thing. “We could be twins.”

“Oh, I’ve always wanted—”

“Black will wash you out,” Caroline said to me. “I was thinking something ivory or perhaps white.”

Something bridal, I realized, because those colors wouldn’t wash me out.

“Then we’ll contrast each other,” I whispered to Evie, and she grinned.

“Of course, it would be nice if you’d gotten more sun while you were away,” Caroline continued, her eyes skirting across my arms. “You’re fortunate that you have that lovely olive undertone in your skin, but I would imagine it would be even lovelier if you sunbathed. I know I can never get enough sun when I’m in Cannes. That is where you went on your little pre-marital gap period?”

I could almost swear I saw a glimpse of claws under her careful questioning. Kerrigan’s absence had been noted by the matriarch. What questions had that raised?

“I was there for a bit,”