Chapter 77

Abigail O’Brian blinked in surprise. The butler was standing in front of her, a heavy-looking paper sack in his arms. Lemons just beginning to turn from green to yellow were peeking from the top. “Where did that come from?” she asked. “From the Duke of Castiel, I believe,” he replied. In response to Abigail’s puzzled look, Sebastian, the butler, lowered his brows in consternation. “…But why?” Abigail asked. She wasn’t asking why Adolphus Castiel had sent the O’Brian household a gift, but rather, why lemons? After all, they weren’t even in season. “The delivery boy said they had too many. Shall I have the cook make a pie? There are quite a few here.” The skilled butler had already moved on to the next problem: how to consume such a large quantity of fruit. Abigail smiled and agreed to his plan. Then she turned to the large hound of a man sprawled impolitely on the sofa. “Oh, stop sulking, Rudy,” she scolded. “…I’m not sulking.” “And stop being dishonest. Lucia will come home soon whether you worry over her or not.” Abigail’s loyal hound turned his back to his master, pretending not to hear. “Now you’re ignoring me? When did you become so unreasonable?” “Shut up and stop treating me like a kid.” His habit of talking back at the least provocation was nothing if not childish, but Abigail didn’t feel the need to point that out. Instead, she smiled cheerfully. “Dear me, who was it that insisted they would never, ever allow their darling little girl to go off by herself to see some prince whose parents we don’t even know?” That was how Constance Grail and Randolph Ulster had gotten roped into the plan. Abigail breathed an exaggerated sigh and laid her palm against her forehead. Aldous flushed. “Come on, now, let’s not start making things up. All I said was that it would be dangerous for a child to travel abroad by herself…!” “By herself? What about the bodyguards? We could have sent a maid, too.” Aldous didn’t respond, probably because he knew the odds were against him in this conversation. The truth was, the girl was like a little sister to him, and he was terribly fond of her. But Abigail worried that if he went on like this, things would become difficult in a few years. “You know, Aldous, girls become brides in the blink of an eye,” she teased. “That’s a load of crap,” he snapped, clasping his hands behind his head and closing his eyes, still frowning. Abigail shrugged and called the butler to ask for the day’s newspaper. Soon the rustle of pages turning was the only sound in the room. “Hey, Abby,” Aldous said after a few minutes. “Yes?” “……How long is the blink of an eye?” Abby dropped her newspaper, walked over to the sofa, and ruffled Aldous’s black hair. He barked for her to stop, but she ignored him. Her mutt was just too cute. Once his hair was a thorough mess, he stood up glumly. “You dropped this,” he said sullenly, picking up the paper Abby had been reading. He glanced at the page it had fallen open to. There was a column on foreign affairs, and of all things, it was about Soldita. “I can’t believe this…,” he murmured. Hearing him, Abigail’s shoulders began to shake with laughter. Briefly glancing at her, he turned his attention back to the newspaper and peered suspiciously at the article. The next moment, he scowled ferociously. “What the hell have they been doing over there?!”