“Why would they object?”
“I’m just a Czech peasant, from a long line of Czech peasants, and your mother is a Sebring who can trace her ancestors back to before Richard III.”
“Dear one.” Mother gestured for him to lean close to her. When he did, she lightly smacked his head. “Quinton is right. You are an idiot.”
“Sorry, Portia.” But in spite of her action and her words, or perhaps because of them, he was obviously very pleased.
Mother turned to me. “I wanted to have Gregor to myself, sweetheart. Can you understand that?”
“Yes, I can.” I probably would have kept my relationship with Mark to myself for longer than I had, almost as much because I was uncertain how my family would react to the fact I was seeing a WBIS agent as because he was a man.
Had she expected her brothers to object?
