Page 56 of Sinfully His

With that I led Rose off to the side where we wouldn’t be overheard, and I watched Mr. Astrid turn and leave his wife without a second word.

It looked like my plan was working better than I thought it would.

Victory felt so good. I pushed it down. Not yet. She could still come back from this and I would not celebrate before the final blow.

“What do you want now?” Rose bit out under her breath.

“Are you talking back to me, little angel? Careful, I’m going to think you like the punishments. Is that what you’re doing? Baiting me for more?”

Her cheeks burned again, and I pushed back the smile in case someone looked over and read something into this conversation.

“I just wanted to tell you I am very proud of you for the way you took your penance earlier. I understand it was not a straightforward thing to do without complaint, but you were so good, you deserve a reward for your behavior. I just wanted to make sure you knew that your… trials have not gone unnoticed. I am sure that there are blessings in your future.”

Her eyes widened as she took in my meaning, and then her eyes went back to the ground as another blush colored her face.

CHAPTER 23

ROSE

After church, Mother was in a state. The entire way home, she ranted and raved while Dad and I each looked out our own window and stared at the world passing by.

When we got home, I ran upstairs to shower and change and remove the candle. I couldn’t just throw it away. If a maid or the butler saw it, they would tell Mother and then there would be endless questions about why I had a church candle. Instead, I cleaned it and quickly stored it under my sink in the very back.

That would have to be good enough.

I could hear Mother screaming at the staff, swearing, blaming people, and I knew I did not want to be here. If she saw me, if she got it in her head again that this was all my fault, then there would be no saving me.

Father Manwarring would want me to turn to him. I considered it for a moment, then I pushed up the sleeve of my blouse and saw the bite marks I had left on my arm. They were just bruises, and would fade in a day or two, but they were reminders of the cost that could come with seeking Father Manwarring’s aid.

Instead, I grabbed my phone and ordered a car, knowing exactly who I wanted to turn to.

Despite it being Sunday, I knew Amelia would not be at home, or at the church. She was going to be where she spent every spare second of her life. At her art school.

I waved to the security guard Luc insisted be on the property at all times, as I headed up to my sister’s office. Her door was open, and she had her phone pressed to her ear, laughing and talking about some summer program they were planning. An art camp, with tuition for those who could afford it, and a set number of scholarships available for those who couldn’t.

She was discussing the specifics of the classes the program would offer. Ceramics, oil paint, sculpture, photography and, of course, watercolor. She was gushing about how amazing it would be to wake the kids up just before dawn to paint the sunrise over the lake, and then, on the same day, have them paint the sunset and compare how the light was different.

I watched her from my position leaning against the doorway, my arms crossed over my chest. I was just so unbelievably proud of my big sister. She had found herself in a way that I hoped to find myself. Her passion was art, not creating it as much as understanding and curating it. The way she fostered talent, awareness, and appreciation of the arts in these kids was inspiring, and she just seemed to glow with her resulting happiness.

My fingers ached with the desire to sketch her, to illustrate and highlight for the first time how truly comfortable she was in her own skin. She would give the credit to Luc, but she would be wrong. This, this was all about her.

I had hoped to come into my own in much the same way. I wanted to pursue art as my passion. Despite Mother’s insistence that I had no talent or eye for art, I applied to colleges all over the world, just to hear absolutely nothing back.

I got a business degree, one that my mother found acceptable, though not ideal. She would have preferredsomething more refined and ladylike, like English literature or art history. Dad, however, encouraged the business degree, calming my mother by telling her that whoever I married would be a businessman and it would be valuable if I could understand what he worked on and talked about all day.

I was a little hurt by that until he shot me a wink, and I understood that he just wanted to give me a choice.

I took the boring business classes not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t want to satisfy my mother. That rebellious streak that was so bold faded quickly after that. Somehow, I convinced myself that not getting into an undergrad art program was a fluke. Maybe there was an issue with the files in my portfolio. Maybe I had missed something in the applications.

So when I applied again to graduate programs with Amelia’s help and still heard nothing, my dreams were dashed. I knew that the excitement and joy that I watched my sister embrace were going to be forever out of my reach.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. I applied to the most prestigious and competitive schools. Maybe I just didn’t have the talent, and that was okay.

Amelia turned and saw me waiting for her. She gave me a warm smile and held up a single finger, telling me to hold on for just another few moments. I nodded and signaled for her to take her time. I wasn’t in a rush. There was absolutely nowhere else I wanted to be.

I moved to a chair in her office, the soreness of my bottom reminding me of today’s earlier events. I considered telling Amelia about Father Manwarring. After all, she was a Manwarring now. Just because he wore a priest collar didn’t make him beyond the reach of his older brother, Amelia’s husband, or even his father. And if Amelia wouldn’t talk to Luc, or if she thought Luc couldn’t help, we could always talk to Stella.

Stella would absolutely talk to Lucian for me.

---