Isabella chuckled as if that were too limited of a scope. “If there’s one thing having my own children has taught me, it’s that we have no idea how they will develop.” She now directly addressed Monica, Eva forgotten. “My husband was a son and almost destroyed this family with his addiction. Henry is a son and, try as he might, will be known as the man who had to right a ship instead of forging his own legacy. That leaves it to the generation after him. Son, daughter… children can disappoint you in their ways. It’s better to hedge bets with multiples. Any gender at this point.”
“You’re acting like they’re not legitimate numbers if they come from your daughter.”
“Monica, darling, you just don’t understand. Even if they’re genetically Henry’s, we still don’t know what might happen. As for testing Nadia’s blood… I had to know what we might be upagainst as a family should she mother those potential children. Luckily, as you will see from the paper, nothing to be concerned about. So let’s just put all of this behind us.”
Eva’s exasperated“Are you listening to this?”look was duly noted, but Monica couldn’t say or do anything without exacerbating the situation.She’ll be out of our hair again soon enough.Isabella’s influence outside of New England was minuscule compared to what she wrought from within the city, let alone the family house.
Pleased enough, Isabella finished adjusting her things and excused herself from the main house. Eva and Monica remained in the foyer, their eye contact tenuous at best.
“I’m sorry,” Monica said. “She shouldn’t have done that.”
The thing about their relationship? Neither of them really held rank over the other. Monica was next in line for the casual title of matriarch, but Eva was a flesh and blood Warren, let alone an active and trusted member of the family. She could make Monica’s life hell just as well as Monica could makeherlife hell now. Monica had been a Warren long enough for seniority and loyalty among the staff. Some still remembered Eva as a selfish heiress who didn’t think of many people below herself. Then some still thought of Monica as an interloper. No matter what, they didn’t win.
So Monica offered platitudes, and Eva held in the worst of her affliction. At the end of the day, neither of them held as much power in this family as they should.
Not as long as Isabella was around.
“How can I think about having children withherfor a grandmother?” Eva said the moment Monica prepared to leave for work. “If I have a son, she’ll think he’s being sissified from having two lesbian moms. If I have a daughter, she’ll assume the kid’s born corrupted, never mind how she’ll sink her teeth into the poor child. Just like she did me.”
Now was not the time to downplay Eva’s fears, although something told Monica that by the time Eva was a mother, Isabella’s influence would have drastically waned. Either from age, health, or the changing tides of the world, there were only so many years left for the woman who thought she was born to bear the title of Lady Warren.
“You and Henry are going to the mountains this weekend, right?” Evatsked.“Leaving Abigail with my mother might be more trouble than it’s worth. Even for a couple of nights. She’ll have her watching some terrible straight-to-streaming movie with the wackiest tradwife undertones.” A sigh finally released the tension in the foyer. “I hate that I know what that is. I mean, no offense, I don’t think of you that way.”
Monica tilted her head. “Why would you think of me that way? From what I understand, it’s not a lifestyle I’m interested in.”
“Well, because you’re…” Eva grimaced. “Never mind! Like I said, I don’t mean to be offensive.”
“No worries. I really must be off, though. I will see you later.”
Eva watched after her, Monica aware that her sister-in-law stared at the back of her head like Isabella often stared at the opening pages of such literary classics asAtlas Shrugged.
It is what it is in this family.Monica’s live-and-let-live attitude certainly had her labeled as a libertarian by her mother-in-law, but Isabella couldn’t be further from the truth. Monica subscribed to no particular political ideology other than trying to leave the world a better place for her daughter. It was in her blood to make people happy and to help them forget their troubles for a while. For every person she met, she considered it her mission to ensure at least half of them walked away from her smiling.
Servile. Domestic. Maternal.Those three words often described Monica, and only sometimes were they said in derision.
Yet she owned them. They described her as well as the wordsrisqué, entrepreneurial,andindependent.
She always held her head high on her way to work. That evening was no different.
Chapter 6
The Winter Palace
Those who didn’t have appointments already booked that night worked Monica and Henry’s party in the Château, entertaining many of the women in Le Salon: conversation and charm. And while the first of the guests began to arrive, Monica knew they were in good hands while she and Henry continued to get ready for the party.
“I don’t want to betoomatchy-matchy.” He appeared behind her at the vanity, wearing an all-black ensemble that was not in his usual repertoire. “Because that’s a black dress you’re wearing, my dear.”
She turned around on her stool. “This is my robe, Henry.”
“You’re not dressed yet?”
“No.”
He studied the plunging neckline of her negligee, the same one she had thrown on when coming out of the shower fifteen minutes ago.
“Huh.”
She hid her rolling eyes as she turned to her reflection and continued applying her makeup for the evening.He notices everything going on with me emotionally, but clothing?The man still didn’t know the difference between Yves St. Laurent and Gucci. The only reason he knew what a Louis Vuitton bag looked like was because the logo was stamped all over it.
