“I am a firm believer that men should sow their wild oats when they are young,” she continued. “But making a fool of yourself over a young woman of high breeding who is not yours for the taking is as unacceptable as it is repugnant. Your chasing around Anna K. like a puppy panting after a squeaky toy is all anyone can talk about in Greenwich, and now the rumor mill has set up shop in Manhattan.”

“I love her,” Vronsky said brazenly, meeting his mother’s disapproving eyes with his own. “And it’s not my fault.”

“And whose fault is it?” she enquired. “Is it Greenwich’s favorite son’s fault that while he convalesces from a terrible car accident, his once loyal girlfriend is running all over town with you? You could have killed yourself during that race, but instead you killed the horse!”

At the mention of Frou Frou, Alexia lowered his eyes in shame. He knew his mother had heard about the timber race tragedy because she had been traveling with Beatrice’s mother, her sister-in-law, at the time. When she hadn’t reached out to him, he’d hoped that she was so relieved he came out unscathed that he wouldn’t be punished.

“I’m buying Penelope a new horse,” his mother informed him. “With your money, of course.”

“It was an accident and I’ve apologized to my aunt many times,” he said, unable to meet his mother’s eyes when the subject wasn’t on his beloved Anna. “I feel terrible about Frou Frou.”

“And you should,” she snipped. “But you’re not here to discuss that. You’re here to tell me you’re done chasing Anna and are moving on. Why not go up and visit Kiril at school? I’m sure a college girl could bring back some color into your cheeks.”

Vronsky shook his head slowly, appalled at his mother’s suggestion. The thought of any girl that wasn’t Anna was ridiculous to him and had been since the moment he had seen her at the train station. He picked up a cucumber-and-cream-cheese finger sandwich and folded the entire thing into his mouth. “Forget it, Mother. I have zero interest in anyone else.”

His mother sighed and sat back in her chair, staring at her youngest son. He looked terribly sad and far more pathetic than she had expected, which pained her. She was all too familiar with the heartache of love affairs gone wrong. She had cheated and been cheated on too many times to count.