142 Jealousy (2)
“You can’t possibly be referring to the charm I have given Caleb? You aren’t, right?” Alessandra questioned, expecting Edgar to say no.
“You should be proud of yourself, my sweet wife. You unlocked a new emotion in your dear husband. Jealousy. I have to say it ties in well with anger,” Edgar walked by Alessandra as he spoke. “Such a dangerous emotion.”
“Wait, you mean to tell me that you have never experienced jealousy?” Alessandra found that hard to believe. She was not excluded from feeling jealous. She felt it many times in regard to the way her father treated Kate. She was even jealous of the birds being able to fly away while she remained trapped.
“What was there for me to be jealous of? I grew up with rich parents. If there was something I wanted, I got it. There has never been anything someone had that I wanted to have. Not until Caleb has been waving about that little thing. If he wants one, he should buy his own.” Edgar could hardly focus on what Caleb was saying when the little green charm was taunting him.
“I can not believe this,” Alessandra muttered.
“Let me help you understand it. Would you be happy if I buy you a necklace and another woman the same necklace because she is my good friend?”
“A small charm you put on a sword and a necklace are two different things. How on earth did we get to this?” Alessandra sighed. She could not remember what they were talking about a moment ago before this conversation. “Let’s put an end to this. I am going down for dinner,” she stood up from the floor. “Please behave,” she told the kittens as she passed by.
“How rude of you. I came back in to walk downstairs with you but you are leaving me all alone,” Edgar exited the closet wearing a short sleeve shirt and long pants. Like Alessandra, he wasn’t wearing any shoes to share the stares she would receive from the servants.
“You did not have to take off your shoes,” said Alessandra. She was slightly concerned by how quickly he was able to get dressed.
.....
“This will be a test of how well the servants and Alfred cleans the floors. If our feet are dirty someone needs to get fired-”
“Duchess! Oh, sorry,” Sally apologized for yelling as soon as the door was opened.
“What is it?” Alessandra questioned due to Sally’s frantic appearance.
“Well,” Sally bit her lip wondering if she should say this when Alfred was already trying to get rid of their guest but she was already up to here and couldn’t resist informing Alessandra. “We have guests.”
“Is it my uncle?’
“It’s my mother,” Edgar rolled his eyes and released a sigh. Their room was far from the gates but he was certain he could hear his mother yelling at the top of her lungs. No one should ever underestimate how loud she could be or maybe there was just a voice in his head whenever his mother was around. “Am I right?”
Sally nodded. “She is here with your father. They wish to have dinner with the two of you and it seems your father is promising to be civil with you. Your mother does not like being stopped at the gates. That is what I heard from another servant.”
“Of course when everything is calm my mother comes to rain fire over my land. I will be back shortly,” Edgar walked past Alessandra to deal with another nuisance at the gates. He needed to find a way to get his parents out of town or most likely call in for backup against his mother. There was only one person to make his mother stay silent.
Edgar took his time walking downstairs and hummed a peaceful tune to remain calm before the bullshit he would have to face. At least the men at the gate were doing their jobs correctly by not allowing his parents inside no matter how much his mother yelled.
“Back to work or be fired,” he informed the maids looking out the windows by the front door.
“Right away, Duke Collins.”
Edgar walked outside barefoot, unbothered by the pebbles of many shapes and sizes pressing into his feet as he walked.
“Edgar! I knew you would not leave us be,” Priscilla said, delighted that Edgar had come out to let them in. “The butler here is speaking to us as if we are common folk.”
“Priscilla now is not the time,” Edmund gently pushed her head out of the way so that he could speak with Edgar. “It is important, son.”
Edgar gave Alfred’s appearance a look over. “You two are stressing out, Alfred. Only I can do that. Have you forgotten that paper, pens, and mailing have been created, father? Return home and send me a letter.”
“It is about the maid who died,” said Edmund.
Edgar looked down at his attire and then back up at his father. “Do I look like a town guard to you? Whatever you know concerning her death, take it into town and help the guards solve the case. I don’t care. It’s your wife’s fault for trying to spy on me and now you’re tangled up in this murder case.”
“Son, I need to speak with you. Your mother promises not to disrespect your wife. You know that if it was something I could send on a simple piece of paper, I would not be here at your gates begging to come in,” Edmund spoke the truth and Edgar knew it.
“I believe that it is important,” Edgar began. “But I do not believe she will not disrespect my wife. Father, you can stay but she must return home.”
“Edgar, you cannot treat me this way. I have not come all this way to fight with your wife only to be sent back moments later. I will be on my best behavior,” Priscilla promised.
“Your best behavior has many flaws. It is rotten. I do not have the time nor the patience to let you ruin my marriage. You have your own marriage that you can continue to ruin. Leave me be. Alfred,” Edgar lifted Alfred’s head to make him stop looking at the ground. “Do not bow your head to them. It’s cold. Come back inside.”
“You treat the butler better than your own parents!” Priscilla exclaimed. She did not go through excruciating pain in labor just for this.
“You birthed me but Alfred raised me. I won’t say it again,” Edgar replied.
“Edgar, please give them the chance to come inside. Your father would not have come here for no reason. Please do it for me. I can have your mother seated far away from Alessandra. It is time you and your mother start to mend your relationship.”
“Oh boy,” Edgar placed his hands on his hips and looked to the sky. “Alfred, you know her well enough that she will go after Alessandra if I let her in. I don’t give a fuck what my father has to say about the dead girl. That is their problem. What on earth has gotten into you.”
‘As much as I hate Priscilla, I feel sorry for her. I feel that it is wrong that her son cares for me in front of her,’ Alfred thought but he could not express this to Edgar.
Noticing a figure approaching them in the distance, Alfred proposed, “Let us see what the Duchess thinks, and then we make a decision.”