Today, preferably.’ It was the next morning and, after making certain enquiries, Cleo had found her way to Serena’s apartments. The older woman had bid her enter her suite, evidently expecting it to be one of the servants. Her eyes had widened considerably when she’d seen Cleo. ‘To go home?’ she echoed. In a thin silk negligee, Serena had been having breakfast on her balcony. But she’d left the table to answer the door. ‘I…Does my father know about this?’ ‘No one knows,’ said Cleo flatly. ‘And I wanted to make all the arrangements before I tell Jacob.’ She paused. ‘I suspect he won’t want me to go, but—’ ‘You suspect!’ The emphasis in Serena’s voice was much different from her own. ‘Cleo, you know he won’t agree to this. He wants you to stay here.’ ‘Well, I can’t.’ Cleo was determined. ‘I’m sorry. I’m going to miss him—miss all of you,’ she added a little ruefully. ‘But you do understand, don’t you? I have my own life. In England.’ Serena’s brows drew together.
