Page 65 of These Thin Lines

“I do know it. And I had some hope you wouldn’t hold this against me, at least professionally speaking.”

Renate scoffed and pointed at Chiara.

“This one’s talking to you, isn’t she? So I have not poisoned that well. Now, you’ve undoubtedly talked her into whatever cockamamie idea you had. I assume I will have to deal with Benedict? You are free to go now. Or what else could you possibly want?”

Arabella’s answer floored everyone. Even Binoche startled, as if she could understand what was happening.

“I know that my past is quite checkered, Rena. So let me start with dinner. And some time to atone. And to start over.”

Well, Chiara had seen bold, and she’d seen foolish. But never in a million years would she have thought Arabella Archibald Avant would embody both these qualities under her very own eyes.

16

IN A FARAWAY LAND OF ENTRANCES WELL MADE

Chiara Conti indulged in gossip as much as the next person. With Aoife bouncing off the walls in her studio, she allowed herself some time to do just that.

“I can’t believe I missed it!” Aoife seemed inconsolable.

Chiara sat on the windowsill, Binoche curled up next to her, a paw almost touching her thigh, and watched as Aoife wore a stripe into the runner on her studio’s floors.

For the past hour, ever since both Arabella and Renate had departed the townhouse—supposedly to go their separate ways in pursuit of whatever errands—Aoife, who’d been eavesdropping and had managed to hear the end of the bombshell revelation, had alternatively been sulking and exclaiming while throwing her hands up in the air.

Chiara sighed. “I have to say, it was quite the spectacle. And certainly a revelation. But, all in all, I would have preferred to avoid it.”

Aoife whirled on her. “Well, of course you would have. I’ve never seen anyone more averse to scandal! You are seriously missing out.”

Chiara uncoiled from her position, the chill of the window glass leaving her slightly uncomfortable, and not even her knitted dress could ward it off. Or perhaps it was the earlier visit and everything it entailed. And not just the revelation of Renate’s early-in-life sapphic relationship and the broken heart she’d apparently been nursing ever since. Certainly not the small, sharp sliver in Chiara’s chest that felt suspiciously like premonition. Absolutely not that.

“I did not missthisone, Aoife. And yes, it was all you’d imagine it to be. The drama, the action, the romance. If you want to call a decades-old betrayal and abandonment, and what appeared like sincere, late-in-life regret ‘romance.’”

“Oh, this is grand. And who’d have thought? Renate? Four decades of longing!” Aoife bounced on the balls of her feet.

“If her reception for Arabella is anything to go by, I’m not sure ‘longing’ is what I’d call it. More like holding a forty-year long grudge—”

“And nobody holds a grudge quite like I do.”

Aoife squeaked, while Chiara managed to school her features to not look guilty at being caught gossiping about their friend. Renate seemed unperturbed by either.

“Are you all right?” Chiara searched those austere features for any remaining distress and found nothing but the usual composure.

“Areyou?” Trust Renate to see through her.

“I shouldn’t be?”

Renate tsked. “A question for a question. I should have known. And I should have told you never to meet with that old crone. I knew she’d push you way out of your comfort zone. She has that effect on people. Making them take risks. Oftentimes unnecessary ones.”

“Is that what happened to you?” Aoife piped up, then blinked owlishly and winced at her own audacity.

But Renate didn’t snap at her, nor did she dismiss the question. She sat down on the corner of a workstation and wrapped her arms around herself, a faraway look overtaking her eyes.

“She was my first. For the longest time my only. To this day, the only woman. And no, that doesn’t speak ill of her in that sense. Perhaps it says more about me? Or about just how much she influenced me, how she pushed and pursued until I relented and let her in. As I said, she has that effect on people.” Renate took a long breath, and Chiara could see her eyes slowly clear.

She could sympathize. Letting people in, then being betrayed by them, was also something Chiara was quite intimately familiar with. But then there’d also been the longing in Renate’s voice. For what Chiara did not know, but she recognized it. After all, she had five years of feeling the same, even if the object of her yearning was to never darken her doorstep again as Arabella had Renate’s.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by Renate’s businesslike tone. “In any case, Benedict’s assistant has already been in touch, and while some wheels are in motion, we can still back out. Say the word, it will be my pleasure to tell her to go to hell. Again.”

And now it was Chiara’s turn to take a steadying breath.

---