“Is that supposed to clear things up for me?” asked Mel.
Jasper blinked at her a few times. “You do know that until fairly recently, Evonia was an absolute monarchy, with the ruler making all the governing decisions for the nation?”
“Uh, sure.”
“Well, Allard was one of the people who spoke out against that, especially in the articles she wrote. She believed the government should transition into a constitutional monarchy.”
“Meaning—”
“Meaning that instead of the king or queen making the laws, the government would be run by elected officials. She played a huge role in turning public opinion against the royal family and building support for a more democratic system.”
“Okay.” Mel shrugged. “Good for her.”
Jasper plowed on without seeming to hear her. “And my grandfather, Max, actually agreed with her. The country’s first parliament was formed after my grandfather convinced his father to give up his real powers as king. Since then, Evonia’s monarch has been just a figurehead. All the real power rests with parliament.”
Mel studied Jasper’s face closely. “So you think that Max got on board with the constitutional monarchy thing because he was involved with Beatrice Allard, and she talked him into knocking his own family out of power?”
“Essentially,” said Jasper, looking pleased in spite of himself that she’d been following along so well. “Between you and me, I think my mother is still personally offended that her father embraced such progressive democratic ideals.”
“Why? It’s not like she’s that high in the line of succession, right? She never would’ve had a shot at becoming queen or anything.”
“Of course not. We’re miles away from inheriting the crown.”
“Then why should it matter to her that the queen doesn’t have any real power?”
Jasper sighed and shrugged. “She likes knowing she belongs at the top of an ancient social order. She’d prefer for the nation to be controlled by her relatives, not by strangers she’s never heard of who chose to put their names on a ballot.”
“So you’re saying she’s a control freak.”
“That’s a crude way of putting it.”
“But accurate?”
“Fairly.” Jasper let out a resigned sigh.
Mel desperately wanted to ask if this was why Lady Cecily had made Jasper break up with Mel’s mom. But she was afraid that would make Jasper uncomfortable again, right when he finally seemed to be opening up to her. The last thing she wanted was to ruin this moment—it may be the weirdest case of family bonding ever, but she would take what she could get.
***
They actually did meet Ro and the Js for lunch. Bellamy’s again. Mel was starting to wonder if this family had heard of any other restaurants.
“How was the auction?” Ro asked as Mel and Jasper joined her and the girls at the same table they’d sat at yesterday.
“We ran into Sir Reginald,” Mel said, “and I bought some old letters that my great-grandfather wrote to a lady he didn’t marry, and Sir Reginald had a tantrum about it.”
Ro’s hand flew to her mouth. “Heavens, the Allard letters?”
“Yep,” said Mel.
Ro looked from Mel to Jasper and back to Mel. Then she burst out laughing.
“It wasn’t amusing,” muttered Jasper, still looking mortified.
“It kinda was,” said Mel, shrugging.
“Well, congratulations, Mel,” said Ro. “If you’d like to get a better look at the letters, I can get you some gloves and the right kind of lighting . . .”
“I—sorry—gloves?” Mel said in confusion.
“You’ll want to avoid damaging them.”
Mel flushed. “I’ll be careful with them.”
“Oh, of course you will!” Ro said hastily. “It’s just that with any older document that has historic significance, it’s important to do everything possible to preserve it. You don’t want the natural oils from your hands seeping into the paper, or . . .”
“Ohhh,” said Mel, relieved that Ro hadn’t thought she was going to fold the letters into paper airplanes or something.
“I used to work in the archives at the National Museum,” Ro added. “So this is the sort of thing I’m trained to do.”
“Well then, sure, I’d love your help,” said Mel, even though she couldn’t quite believe she’d just agreed to spend even more time with her stepmother.
“How was the riding lesson, girls?” Jasper asked the Js. And just like that, the focus shifted away from Mel. As she watched him listen to his other daughters summarize their interactions with horses named Prudence and Delilah, Mel couldn’t help feeling jealous and a little confused. Jasper clearly knew how to act like a normal dad—asking questions, listening, even laughing when his kids said something clever or funny. Why didn’t he act like that with her? Why had they only talked about elderberry jam and the reputations of dead people?
After a while Jasper’s phone started buzzing. “Sorry, I’d better take this,” he muttered. “It’s the queen’s social secretary—probably calling about Mother’s birthday gift.”
As soon as he stepped away from the table, Joss looked at Mel. What insult is she about to drop on me now? Mel wondered.
“So when you say Grandfather had a tantrum,” Joss asked, “did his face get splotchy, or did he just give you the death glare?”
Feeling a mixture of shock and amusement, Mel replied, “Just the death glare. What does it take to make him splotchy-faced?”
“Joss,” said Ro sternly, “there’s no need to speak ill of your grandfather.”
“He got splotchy-faced when Dad told him about you,” Jess piped up, speaking to Mel. “He told Dad that since you were illegitimate you wouldn’t ever be able to inherit his title and that you and your mum were probably just trying to get your hands on the family money. Even though we don’t actually have that much money anymore.”
Joss opened her mouth to add something—probably her best guess at how much money was in her father’s bank account, knowing this kid. But Ro cut her off. “That’s enough, both of you. It’s very rude of you to say that sort of thing in front of Mel.”
“It was Grandfather who said it,” Jess protested. “We just repeated it.”
Mel jumped in. “Actually, I don’t mind—I appreciate that they’re being so honest with me.” She glanced at Ro. “And for the record, I’m not after anybody’s money, and neither is my mom.”
“We guessed that,” said Joss. “Because if you were, you’d probably be a lot more careful around Grandfather.”
It occurred to Mel that her half sisters weren’t trying to give her a hard time. They actually looked impressed with her. Speaking their minds might even be their way of showing they liked her. She would have to get used to that.
6
That afternoon, Jasper had another board meeting for a charity organization he sponsored, so Mel ended up taking her letters—which had arrived shortly after lunch in what looked like an old shoebox—to Ro’s private study. It was a surprisingly comfortable-looking room full of stacks of books and papers and notebooks. And surprisingly messy.
As she’d promised, Ro supplied Mel with a pair of cloth gloves and sat her down under a lamp that gave off very gentle light. “I can leave you alone if you’d like,” she added as Mel took the lid off the shoebox.
“Uh, actually—I think I might have trouble reading their handwriting,” Mel confessed. “Do you think you could stay and help with that?”
Ro beamed at her, as if this was the greatest honor she could imagine. “I’d be happy to!”
So for the next three hours, Mel and Ro went through a portion of the 871 letters written by Lord Maximilian and Beatrice Allard. Mel got into the habit of reading them out loud, with Ro looking over her shoulder and following along. Whenever Mel got to a word or phrase she couldn’t make out, Ro helped.
“I really like Beatrice,” Mel commented. “I mean, her vo
ice in these letters is so sassy.”
“I met her once,” said Ro. “She gave a lecture at my school. She seemed marvelous. And of course I knew Lord Maximilian, though not very well. He’d passed away by the time I married into the Valmont family.”
“But you’re from some fancy noble family too, right?” Mel asked. “So you would’ve hung out with the Valmonts even before you and Jasper got together?”
“We moved in the same circles, yes,” said Ro. Then, to Mel’s surprise, she rolled her eyes. “Not that my background helped win over Sir Reginald and Lady Cecily.”
“Really?” said Mel. “I would have thought you’d be their idea of a perfect daughter-in-law.”
“Well, I certainly did my best. I gave up my job when I married Jasper so that I could ‘focus on the family.’ And I let a lot of old friendships fizzle because those friends weren’t the kind of people Sir Reginald and Lady Cecily respected. I went through all the motions, but nothing has ever been enough for them.”
“That sucks. I’m sorry,” said Mel, and to her own surprise, she meant it.
Ro’s smile looked a little forced. “It’s not all bad, though! I did snag an amazing husband and ended up with two delightful daughters. Three, actually, if you don’t mind me counting you.”
Mel let that sink in. A few days ago she would’ve assumed Ro was being fake, trying to gain her trust just so that she could stab Mel in the back later. But now that felt ridiculous. She wasn’t sure she was totally comfortable with Ro claiming her as a daughter, but she couldn’t deny that Ro was being genuinely kind. She found herself returning her stepmother’s smile.
7
“So how’s it going?” asked Mel’s mom. Her face blurred and flickered across Mel’s laptop screen, and her voice sounded far away. Which, of course, it was.
“Not bad,” said Mel. “The butler brings me breakfast every morning, which was weird at first, but now I kind of love it. And then Ro plans these outings for us during the day. We went to a museum on Thursday, and yesterday we drove out into the countryside and had a picnic. I mean, LaRue drove us out into the countryside. It’s weird that they have so many people working for them, but I guess that’s normal for rich people in any country, right? And we have lunch or tea at the same ridiculous restaurant every day, which I don’t get, but that might also be a rich people thing. And the food is good, so I guess I shouldn’t complain. How are you?”
“Fine,” said Mel’s mom. “Todd and I are going to a movie tonight. I was actually thinking that when you get back, maybe the three of us could go see that new superhero movie . . .”
This again. Mel decided to wrap things up. “Mom, can I call you back later? There’s this party tonight and I need to get ready for it.” The party started at 7:00 p.m. and it was currently 10:00 a.m., but her mom didn’t need to know that. Mel was actually planning to spend rest of the morning reading through Max and Beatrice’s letters with Ro, but she figured her mom didn’t need to know that either. She’d avoided telling her mom how much time she’d been spending with Ro. Especially because it probably added up to more time than she’d spent with Jasper—who was the whole reason she’d come here in the first place.
“Oh, sure, honey,” said her mom. “We’ll talk more soon. Have a great time!”
Mel sighed as she ended the call. Her mom was trying really hard to be supportive. But it was so obvious that the kind of life Jasper and Ro had was completely unappealing to her mom. She clearly didn’t feel that Mel had been missing out on anything all these years. Mel couldn’t help disagreeing. Being here was strange, but she wouldn’t trade it for an outing to the movies with her mom and What’s His Name.
Ro was waiting for Mel in the study. They were almost done going through the letters—they only had a few left. Mel found herself wishing there were more. It had been strangely fun to spend the last few mornings hunched over almost-unreadable handwriting, reading the jokes and secrets and radical ideas of these two people she’d never meet.
The last few letters also turned out to be the saddest. Max was married and had two kids, and he was finally ending the correspondence since he knew it could hurt his family. He and Beatrice said some very touching things, and then some very matter-of-fact things, and then it was game over as they both decided to move on with separate lives.
“That’s so sad,” said Mel as they finished reading the last letter.
“In a way,” Ro agreed. “But it’s also rather lovely, don’t you think?”
Mel didn’t think so at all, but she didn’t want to burst Ro’s bubble, so she kept quiet.
“So,” sighed Ro, standing up and stretching. “What do you think you’d like to do with these letters now? You have every right to keep them to yourself, of course. But you could also donate them to the National Museum if you want. They definitely have historical significance.”
Mel looked up in surprise. “Lady Cecily would hate that.”
“Yes,” said Ro with a straight face. “She absolutely would.”
Mel grinned at her.
8
Mel wandered around Darnley Place by herself that afternoon. Ro had to rush off to yet another meeting with contractors for the upcoming home renovations, and Jasper was MIA again. Eventually Mel made her way into the sitting room, the first room of the house that she’d seen when she arrived.
The Js were in there, with that same board game sprawled out on the floor. “You need to roll twenty or higher to avoid the burns,” Joss was saying to Jess was Mel walked in.
Then they both looked up at her as if she were some sort of alien.
“Sorry to bother you,” said Mel. “Your mom said there was a coffee table book about the National Museum in here. I just came by to grab it.”
“That sounds incredibly boring,” said Joss.
“Yeah, well, you’re the one who keeps track of the strength of the euro compared to the dollar,” Mel retorted before she could stop herself. “And didn’t you have a tennis lesson yesterday?”
“Our grandparents insist on that sort of thing,” said Joss. “We both hate tennis.”
“We like riding, though,” added Jess. “Do you like riding?”
“Sure, in theory,” said Mel, glancing around for the book Ro had described to her.
“It’s easy to like something in theory,” said Jess. “I like our grandparents in theory, for example.”
Mel paused. “Oh? You only like them in theory? Not in real life?”
“Grandmother’s a nightmare,” said Joss, rolling her eyes. “Every time she sees me she criticizes what I’m wearing and my hair and my pimples and my teeth and—ugh! It’s exhausting.”
“And Grandfather just sort of looks at us,” added Jess, “like he can’t quite decide whether he’ll admit he knows us.”
“Oh, I thought that was a special reaction just for me.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” said Joss wryly. “He and Grandmother are critical of everybody.”
“That’s actually kind of reassuring.” Mel started to head for a bookcase and ended up accidently kicking over a stack of tokens on the floor. “Whoops, sorry. What is this game you two are always playing?”
“Dragon Empire,” said Jess. “Want to play with us? We can start over.”
Mel looked at the board skeptically. “What are the rules?”
Jess sat up straighter. “You’re a dragon and you’re trying to take over as many countries as possible. You get seven skill cards, twenty resource tokens, three one-time-use special powers . . .”
Five hours later, Jess won the game and Joss declared that they should start getting ready for the party.
“Did Mum pick out an outfit for you?” asked Jess as they all headed upstairs.
“Yeah, she gave me a couple options to choose from,” said Mel. “Does she do that for you too?”
“Only for formal occasions,” said Jess, pulling a handful of little candies out of her pocket. She held one out to Mel. “Have you ever had one of t
hese?”
“Don’t think so,” said Mel, squinting at the unfamiliar wrapper.
“It’s called an éclat—that’s a French word that basically means a burst or explosion, which is what they do in your mouth. They’re only made in Evonia.”
Mel popped one into her mouth and bit into it. A flash of fizzy bittersweetness filled her mouth. “This is amazing. Do you have more?”
“I do, but how much are they worth to you?” said Jess. “Shall we start the bidding at, say, three thousand euro?”
Mel laughed. “How about I just trade you my antique letters for your bag of candy?”
“If only Grandfather knew it could be so easy!”
Mel snorted with laughter. She was actually starting to like these girls.
***
Mel had just finished getting ready when there was a knock on her door. “Come on in, Baines!” she called, assuming it was the butler.
Instead, Jasper poked his head in. “Thought I’d, er, see how you were doing.”
How unusual for you to bother asking. The thought flashed through her mind, but instead she said lightly, “Trying to decide which shoes will be the least uncomfortable. Doesn’t anyone in Evonian wear flats?”
“Ordinary people probably do,” said Jasper with a sheepish shrug.
Mel sighed, kicked off the shoes she’d been trying on, and sat down cross-legged on the floor. “Give me some tips on surviving a party hosted by non-ordinary Evonians,” she said to Jasper. “What should I expect? How should I act?”
“Hmm,” said Jasper, frowning thoughtfully as he sat down in a straight-backed chair. “It’s probably best to call my mother ‘my lady’ and my father ‘Sir Reginald,’ unless they invite you to be more informal with them. They still prefer for Ro to call them by their titles even after all this time.”
Mel gave him a stunned look, but Jasper just plowed on. “And if anyone talks to you in French, just smile and say ‘je ne parle pas le français.’ Don’t ask ‘What?’ or anything vulgar like that.”
Family Business Page 4
