19. Edward
Edward
" Y ou requested this meeting, Edward." Victoria swept into the study as if she owned the world which, until tonight, she believed she did.
Her Chanel suit was impeccable, her bearing regal, her smile triumphant as she settled into the leather chair across from my desk like a queen granting audience.
I didn't look up from the documents spread before me with surgical precision—bank records, phone logs, business correspondence, and witness statements.
The fire crackled in the hearth, casting shadows across manila folders that contained the evidence to prosecute my own Mother.
The familiar scent of leather and bergamot that usually comforted me now felt suffocating.
"I do hope this isn't about that American girl," she continued, her laugh tinkling like crystal—beautiful and brittle.
"Really, darling, you look tired. This whole affair has been taxing, I'm sure, but now we can move forward properly.
I've already spoken to the Ashworth girl—lovely family, perfect breeding—and she's quite keen to renew your acquaintance. "
If I met her eyes before I had complete control, I might do something irreversibly stupid. Instead, I opened the first folder with deliberate calm, my legal training kicking in like muscle memory.
Control the narrative. Establish the facts. Destroy the opposition's credibility systematically.
"For the record, Mother, let's establish a timeline.
" I finally raised my eyes to hers, my voice taking on the precise cadence I used to dismantle opposing counsel.
"Six months ago, you initiated acquisition proceedings against Gardens & Home Television Network.
Two months ago, you extended Lili Anderton's invitation to stay at our family manor.
Last month, you hired Thompson Private Investigations to photograph us in compromising situations.
" I paused, watching her face carefully.
"Would you like to dispute any of these facts before I continue? "
The smile faltered for a microsecond. Anyone else would have missed it, but I'd been watching her manipulate people since childhood.
I knew every tell, every calculated expression—the way her left eyebrow twitched when caught in deception, how her tongue darted across her lower lip when calculating her next move.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, darling. You're being rather dramatic—"
"Exhibit A." I turned the first document toward her—the initial acquisition memo, bearing her handwriting in the margins.
"Your notes are quite thorough, Mother. 'Target appears vulnerable—recent financial struggles.
Perfect for hostile takeover. E's firm well-positioned to handle.
' Rather prescient of you to mention my involvement before you'd even met the target. "
Mother's fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on her Hermès clutch. She reached for the crystal water glass I'd placed on the side table, and I heard something I'd never heard before—the glass clinked against her teeth.
Lady Victoria Grosvenor, who'd never shown a tremor of uncertainty in my presence, was rattled.
"Business is business, Edward. If you're suggesting I somehow planned—"
"I'm not suggesting anything." I opened the second folder, methodically building my case like I would against any defendant.
"I'm stating facts supported by documentary evidence.
Exhibit B: your text to Daphne, dated nine weeks ago.
" I slid the phone record across the polished mahogany.
"'Do bring your American friend home for a proper visit.
The staff quarters will suit her perfectly.
It's time Edward met someone who could appreciate our world and facilitates the speed of the acquisition. '"
The color began draining from Mother's perfectly powdered cheeks. "That proves nothing more than hospitality—"
"Exhibit C." I was hitting my stride now, channeling every courtroom victory, every moment I'd made opposing counsel squirm under cross-examination.
"Thompson Private Investigations' invoice.
Quite detailed in their billing practices.
" I pulled out the highlighted document.
"'Subject surveillance, photography package, media contact facilitation.
' This line item is particularly interesting: 'Paparazzi coordination—additional fee for guaranteed publication in three major outlets. '"
She stood abruptly, pacing to the window, her composure cracking like ice over a spring thaw. "You don't understand the pressures I face, the responsibilities—"
"Oh, but I do understand." I leaned back in my chair, steepling my fingers—a gesture I'd learned from watching her dominate boardrooms. "You saw an opportunity to eliminate a perceived threat to your control while simultaneously positioning your firm to benefit from a lucrative acquisition.
Two objectives, one strategy. Rather efficient, actually.
" My voice dropped to a whisper. "I might even admire the tactical precision if it hadn't destroyed the woman I love. "
"Love?" The word exploded from her lips with genuine revulsion.
She whirled to face me, her mask finally slipping completely.
"Edward, you've known that girl for mere months.
This isn't love—it's infatuation. Lust. A momentary lapse in judgment that I've helped you correct before it ruined everything we've built. "
"What exactly did Lili do to deserve your hatred?" The question came out sharper than I'd intended. "What crime did she commit beyond existing in your world?"
Mother's face contorted with something ugly. "Crime? She committed the crime of thinking she belonged here. Of believing that enthusiasm and charm could somehow compensate for generations of breeding and education. Of making you forget who you are, what you represent."
"She never asked to belong here," I said quietly. "She came as Daphne's guest. She was polite, respectful, kind to our staff—"
"Kind to the staff?" Mother laughed bitterly. "Edward, she befriended Mrs. Worthington's daughter. She sat in the kitchen drinking tea with the cook. She acted as if there were no social boundaries, no proper order to things."
"And that threatened you how, exactly?"
"Because you watched her do it!" Mother's composure cracked entirely.
"You watched her treat everyone as equals, and I saw your face, Edward.
I saw you questioning everything I'd taught you about maintaining proper distance, about understanding your position in society.
She was turning you into someone who might actually believe that bloodlines and breeding don't matter. "
I thought of Lili's easy laughter with the groundskeepers, her genuine interest in Mrs. Worthington's stories about her grandchildren, the way she'd helped clear dishes after dinner despite the staff's protests. "Maybe she was turning me into someone better."
"Better?" Her's voice rose to a pitch I'd never heard.
"Better than four hundred years of Grosvenor leadership?
Better than Oxford education and royal connections?
Better than everything I sacrificed to maintain?
" Mother pressed her hands to her temples.
"That girl represented everything I've spent my life fighting against—the idea that background doesn't matter, that proper breeding is just snobbery, that anyone can simply decide they belong in our world. "
"She never decided she belonged in our world," I said, my voice deadly quiet.
"She was trying to find her place in it because she loved me.
She was building her own life, chasing her own dreams, trying to make something of herself through hard work and determination.
" I leaned forward. "Everything you taught me to respect, she embodied. And you destroyed her for it."
Mother stared at me as if I'd slapped her. "I destroyed her because she would have destroyed you. Do you know what I see when I look at that girl? I see my Mother."
The admission hung in the air like smoke from a snuffed candle. I'd never heard her mention her own Mother with anything but respectful distance.
"Your Mother?"
"Margaret O'Sullivan," she whispered. "Irish.
Working class. Pretty as a picture and determined to better herself by marrying above her station.
" Mother’s hands trembled as she touched her pearls.
"She convinced my Father that love was more important than lineage.
That her dreams of belonging in society were worth more than centuries of careful breeding. "
"And?"
"And she spent thirty years trying to fit into a world that never quite accepted her.
Every charity luncheon was a performance.
Every social interaction was a test she might fail.
She died exhausted from pretending to be something she wasn't, and my Father died heartbroken that he'd asked her to become it.
" Mother's voice broke. "I watched them both suffer for their romantic notions about love conquering all. "
The pieces clicked into place with horrible clarity. "So when you saw Lili—"
"I saw history repeating itself. I saw you falling for the same beautiful lie that destroyed my parents' happiness." Mother straightened, trying to reclaim her dignity. "I was protecting you from a lifetime of watching someone you love struggle to become something they're not."
I thought of Lili's confidence at the charity auction, her natural grace with high society, her intelligence that needed no polish. "But Lili wasn't struggling to become anything. She was exactly who she was supposed to be."
"Until she wasn't." Mother's voice turned cold again. "Until the pressure mounted and the cameras flashed and the gossip started. How long do you think her small-town confidence would have lasted under real scrutiny? How long before she started to crack under the weight of being Lady Grosvenor?"