Louisa shot him a glare. “Thank you for the recounting, brat.”
“Ah, I see,” Cook said, wiping her hands on her apron.
“What do you see?” Louisa asked, pulling a face. “Because I can’t see anything from where I am seated.”
“That’s because you chose the wrong seat,” the older woman replied matter-of-factly.
Louisa folded her arms. “You know about the family feud?”
Cook turned back to her work with a sniff. “I know both heads of the two families were as stubborn as mules, and before they were enemies, they were the closest of friends.”
Louisa sat up straighter. “Really? I cannot imagine it.”
Leo dropped into a seat beside her, his expression skeptical. “Me neither.”
Hah! What did this brat know? Still, she had to admit it was a pleasant change to see that his definition of “following her” had shifted from spying to simply... joining.
Cook rummaged on a rack and pulled out a large pot. “The two dukes fought over one woman—your mother.”
“Our mother?’ Leo asked with interest.
Louisa barely had time to process the revelation before an image took shape in her mind. “She chose my father.”
Cook nodded. “Correct.”
“Isthathow the feud started?” Louisa asked, incredulous. Over a woman?
“Oh, there is a bit more to the story than that, dearie,” Cook said, filling the pot with water. “Your mother was the other duke’s betrothed. I believe your mother and father eloped back then.”
Louisa’s jaw slackened.Oh.“Oh, so the Duke of Mortimer was angered by them both...”
Leo scoffed. “This is why I have no time for women.”
Louisa shot him a flat look. She sensed the influence of a particular male. “Just what did you and Mr. Helgate talk about?”
“Oh, many things,” Leo said lightly.
“Not going to say, are you?”
He lifted his chin. “It was a conversation amongst men.”
“Right.” Why did she even ask?
Cook chuckled, shaking her head. “It good not to be interested in these things at young master Leo’s age.”
But Leo wasn’t finished. He turned to Louisa, asking, “Are you going to defy father for your gardener?”
Her heart gave a traitorous lurch, so sudden and forceful that she almost pressed a hand to her chest. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you slept with him.”
The simple answer knocked the breath from Louisa. She coughed, and she nearly choked on air almost at the same moment Cook dropped the spoon.
Leo! You and your tactless tongue!
Heat rushed up her neck, her gaze darting between the wide-eyed maid, the shocked Cook, and her infuriating brother. “What are you talking about?” Did he know what they had done in the carriage? Had he overheard something?
He looked at her funnily. “I saw you—in the morning at Mr. Helgate’s cottage. Don’t you remember?”
