The Cerulean (Untitled Duology, #1)(38)

“You think sending you to that godforsaken country to live with your witch of a grandmother will make you less of an embarrassment?” His voice was slow, deliberate. “I thought you were the smart one, Agnes.”

The knife in her heart twisted.

“Mother would have wanted me to know her,” she blurted out.

Xavier slammed his fist down on the table, rattling his fountain pen and making her jump. “You do not know what your mother would have wanted,” he snarled. “And you certainly don’t know the first thing about Ambrosine Byrne. You think your grandmother is some kindly, gray-haired schoolmarm? Think again, Agnes.”

Heat rose in her cheeks, because to be honest, that was exactly how she’d pictured her.

“Tell me about her then,” she said. “If I’m so stupid, enlighten me.”

“I did not say you were stupid,” Xavier said. “If I had to choose a word, it would be naive. You romanticize Pelago, and your mother, and her family. The Byrnes are not what you think they are—they are selfish and greedy. They are arrogant. You have created a world that doesn’t exist. You are living in this world and you must abide by its rules.”

“I wouldn’t have to romanticize Mother or her family if you talked about them,” Agnes said. She knew she was pushing her luck, but she couldn’t help herself. What did he mean by selfish and arrogant? Maybe he was making up a tale to dampen her desire to know the Byrnes. Eneas had called her grandmother formidable, which made her seem like a woman of stature. Agnes had always pictured her as someone noble and respected.

She was sick of getting only bits and pieces of information. The spectacular unfairness of it all was making her irrational. “Mrs. Phelps said you and Mother used to travel all the time together. That you threw parties here with all sorts of people. She said you were different then.”

Xavier’s face had become a mask, but Agnes could sense some strong emotion pulsing beneath it, and she immediately regretted bringing the housekeeper into this discussion.

“Mrs. Phelps hasn’t the faintest idea what she’s talking about,” he said coldly. “She was not in my employ during that time.”

“If you truly want to shatter my illusions about Pelago,” Agnes said, “you’d let me see it for myself.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know why,” Xavier said.

“Because it would look bad for you,” she grumbled.

“It would.”

“But you’re working with a Pelagan!”

“A man. And Kiernan has skills and assets that I need. You do not, and sending you to Pelago would be a mistake of epic proportions.”

“My mother would have wanted more for me than Ebenezer Grange,” Agnes insisted. “And she would have let me have some say in the decision at least!”

“Enough. You will do as you are told and there will be no more discussion of your mother.”

“Why not? Why can’t I know anything about her? What are you so afraid of?”

Agnes knew instantly that she had crossed a line. She felt something snap in the air between them.

“Go to your room.” Xavier’s voice was like iron, his face dark as a beet. A vein throbbed in his neck. “Now. No dinner. Go.”

She didn’t hesitate. She flew through the doors and up the stairs, past a bewildered Hattie, and nearly plowed into Swansea. She didn’t stop until she had collapsed onto her bed.

“So what’s the punishment? Miss Elderberry’s Finishing School again?” Leo was standing in her doorway, grinning. Agnes felt a stab of relief that her father had not told her brother she was engaged. When one of them was punished, it was a McLellan sibling tradition for the other to gloat. But this was different. This wasn’t time away from her lab or etiquette lessons or finishing school. This was the rest of her life.

“Honestly, I don’t know why he keeps sending you there,” he continued, oblivious. “Perhaps Larker Asylum would be a better fit. . . .”

“Go away, Leo.”

“Agnes . . .” He frowned and took a step into her room. “I’m—”

“What?” she snapped. “You’re sorry?” She snorted. “I can’t believe you just let Branson hit her like that.” She hadn’t meant to bring up Sera, but she found it was easier to be angry about that than to think about Ebenezer Grange.

“What was I supposed to do?” Leo said. “It’s not like I hit her myself.”

“No, you just snapped her up in a net, that’s much better.”

“If you remember correctly, you helped me find her.”

“I didn’t know she was there!”

“Neither did I!”

They stared each other down, and Leo must have seen something in her expression, because his eyes narrowed.

“What’s really going on?”

“Nothing,” she said. She could feel the tears welling up, and she tried to blink them away.

“Come on, you’re a terrible liar. What, is he padlocking your lab for the rest of the year?”

It pained Agnes to think that although Leo had been the one to suggest it, even he had not thought Xavier would marry her off quite so abruptly.

And just like that, she saw understanding click behind his eyes. The one thing that would make her this upset. The one punishment she would not want to joke about.