Page 7 of The Pureblood Daughter
Adelina clenches her hands in her lap. She hoped her mother wouldn’t bring it up.
“Until?” The smile is gone from Lord Gray’s face as he looks between Adelina and Lady Gray.
“I became overheated in the garden and had to lie down to rest. But I’m feeling fine now, I assure you.”
Lord Gray sits up and leans forward, his eyes narrowing as he regards her more closely. “I’ll not have you overexerting yourself, Adelina. We’ve discussed this.”
“I know, Papa, but—”
“But nothing.” His voice is hard, unyielding. It takes Adelina by surprise. “You’re not to see Lord Rosetti again, or any gentleman for that matter.”
“Robert!” Lady Gray’s mouth hangs open, her expression one of ghastly surprise.
“We’ll not discuss it, Marian. Not until Adelina’s health improves. I’ll not have her becoming ill for the likes of that—” Lord Gray’s lips pinch into an aggressive line, and he stands abruptly from the table. “I’m sorry, my dear, but I won’t have it.” He looks down at Adelina with dark eyes. “I do hope you understand.” With that, he leaves the room, and Lady Gray is soon on his heels, calling his name down the hallway.
Adelina sits alone at the table, her reflection staring back at her from a glass of wine. Her mother’s voice continues to carry from the hallway, but she can no longer make out the words. Anger rises in her chest.
One caller, one afternoon, one chance at what might’ve been love. Her body didn’t even allow her that.
And now her only chance might’ve been lost.
Chapter Four
Birds sing in the elmtree as Adelina’s brush swishes across her canvas. She sits in the shade, her dark hair loose and hanging to her elbows, and dips her brush into a rich blue paint. The bristles dance, shaping shades of blue and green into something both beautiful and intangible.
While painting, she tries not to let her mind wander, but it’s a struggle. Her parents argued late into the night, their voices carrying down the long hall into Adelina’s bedroom. Her mother fought valiantly for her, pleading with Lord Gray to see reason, but he was steadfast, and now Adelina is destined to sit in this garden, alone, and paint for the foreseeable future. Gentlemen callers will have no place in her life from this day forward, at least until her health improves.
The thought makes Adelina narrow her eyes, and she presses a tad too hard, darkening an area she didn’t intend to.
With a huff, she sets her brush and palette on the table beside her and sits back in the bistro chair. The leaves overhead shift in the breeze. She follows them with her eyes, studying the way the veins glow in the sunlight. Perhaps she’ll try her hand at a landscape, or a still life, or—
A loud knock at the door draws her attention, and she casts her gaze to the veranda and through the open doors. The shadows make it difficult to see the figures inside with any clarity, but someone moves toward the front door and becomes silhouetted against the sun as it opens. At this distance, Adelina can see no distinguishing features, but her pulse thrums in her wrists.
Could it be...?
A moment later, the door closes. Adelina stands. The garden is enclosed in an eight-foot-tall wrought iron fence crawling with greenery and flowering vines. The privacy allows Adelina to enjoy pleasant afternoons in the garden without feeling the eyes of passersby, but today it is a hinderance.
She glances toward the veranda, ensuring Rose and Lady Gray are nowhere to be found, before hurrying across the garden toward the fence closest the front of the house. She ducks under low-hanging branches and steps delicately around blooming rose bushes before finally making it to the fence, where she pulls the greenery aside and looks out at the street beyond.
A carriage drawn by two ebony horses is stationed outside the house, and the footman has just opened the door for the passenger when Adelina peers through the fence. The gentleman pauses, his back straightening, and turns.
Adelina scarcely allowed herself to hope, but Lord Rosetti stands on the cobbles a mere few feet away, his dark-lashed eyes focused solely on her. She opens her mouth as if to speak, but no words form. His visage steals the breath from her lungs, and though she’s been trained her whole life to converse with gentlemen and smile just right and flutter her eyes just so, she can bring herself to do none of these things.
Lord Rosetti glances back toward the house before closing the space that separates them. If he cares what people might say about him conversing with a lady through a fence, he doesn’t show it.
“Miss Gray.” He looks down at her, and she tips her head back slightly to meet his eyes. “I’d not thought I’d be graced with your presence today.”
“I-it’s my father,” she says, glancing away. The intensity of his gaze continues to unhinge her. “He worries for my health. I’m to meet no gentlemen until I’m well.”
Lord Rosetti’s smile falters. “That’s... disappointing. I’d hoped very much to speak with you today.”
Curiosity piqued, she looks up at him. “What about?”
“You, of course.” His smile returns, dazzling in its beauty. “I have so many questions.”
He takes a small step forward, and he’s so close now that Adelina could touch him were she to reach through the iron pickets.
“Aboutme?” Adelina covers her lips as she laughs, and Lord Rosetti tips his head.
