"I swear, if you call me 'old' one more time, Alaric, I will disown you," Lady Rowena declared, delicately cutting into her roast duck.
I fought back a smile as I glanced between my mother-in-law and my husband. The dining room in Lady Rowena's townhouse felt smaller when filled with such potent personalities.
"Mother, that would require you to own me in the first place," Alaric replied smoothly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "And we both know I've been running my own affairs since I was barely out of short pants."
Damian Ashworth nearly choked on his wine, while Helena Pembroke maintained her perfect composure, though I caught the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.
"I raised you, you ungrateful boy," Lady Rowena sniffed, though I detected the underlying fondness in her voice.
"Alistair raised me," Alaric corrected. "You were busy attending tea parties and balls."
Lady Rowena's eyes narrowed. "Don't test me, Alaric. I'm in no mood for your cheek today."
