Worst Impressions

Chapter Thirty Four

I'd had worse Christmases, and I'd had better.

It wasn't so much the place, but the company was stifling. William was quiet, which was strange for him, and Cosette was impossible to talk to. I meant that both because I didn't know any French at all and because we had nothing in common. Either she couldn't speak English, or she wasn't inclined to communicate with me to shut me out. Honestly, after she gave me a tour of the house and showed me her very ornate and decorative bedroom, I was in silent agreement that we'd have little to discuss in any language and was content to remain a stranger to her.

Strange kid.

William didn't seem to have much interest in her either. This was a source of some amusement for Freddie and me because we could see just how hard Madame Courtenay was trying to push him into her daughter's company. Gideon had said that she was interested in finding a girl she approved of for him, and I saw that the only one she deemed suitable was Cosette. Everyone joked that nobles and royals were inbred, and there was the proof of it. True, they were second-cousins, but that gene pool would only get shallower if they got married. Besides, I couldn't even tell if Cosette liked him. She was so – I don't know – doll like, that even emotions didn't play on her face. I was tempted to knock her flat onto her back to see if her eyes would close like those creepy baby dolls that people bought in stores.

Georgia was frequently captured by Wyatt. He kept gushing about how lucky we were to be there, and how happy he was to have his girlfriend with him. She didn't look so inclined to agree and had crawled into my bed most nights for comfort and peace. Poor Georgia. I wasn't going to say I told you so, no matter how much I wanted to.

But I had told her so.

Wyatt just wasn't any good for her.

Or anyone, for that matter.

My only other escape from the nonsense of the house was Freddie.

'Now that is a nice car,' I said as I walked down the stone steps at the grand entrance to the building.

Freddie beamed at me, leaning against the vehicle with his arms folded across his chest like he'd just stepped out of a dreamy romance movie. His auburn hair was swept back, the collar of his white shirt open, the tails tucked loosely into his black pressed trousers. He patted the door affectionately. 'She's a nineteen-'

'Nineteen-sixty-six Alfa Romeo Spider Duetto, I know.'

'How do you –'

'My Dad likes cars,' I explained. 'Can I drive?'

'Do you have a license?'

'No.'

'Then, non.' Freddie opened the passenger door for me. 'Allons, before someone tries to stop us escaping.'

That someone would probably be my mother. She was still determined that I was going to spend time with her and her new husband, as if we could be a family. I didn't think that was going to happen. I appreciated that she was happy and everything, but I couldn't help wondering how long it would be until her latest marriage fell apart. It was her life so she could do what she wanted. I just didn't want her to drag me into it.

'So, what are we doing today?' I asked as we took off at high speed, leaving the ugly old house and its occupants far behind us.

'Museums?'

'Boring.'

'Really? Have you ever been to le Louvre?'

'No.'

'Then you don't know it's boring, do you? Indulge me with some culture, and then we'll go shopping.'

'Because that's all girls like to do, right?'