I pressed my nose to the creamy blooms, breathing in their sweet scent before flipping to the rock-rose.
The book offered only one definition.
“ ‘Cistaceae,’ ”I said, and traced its phrase, a smile growing deep in my heart. “ ‘Of this I am most certain.’ ”
Certain.
He was certain.
I felt all of the anxieties that had spent the afternoon building within me drop away, like racing water falling over the edge of a cliff.
He was certain.
Our courtship would continue. There was still hope for a secure future.
With Alex.
He was certain.
A tiny dark thought pushed its way into my mind but I batted it from me before it could take root.
He is certain, but are you?
Dear Mercy,
There’s simply so much I need to catch you up upon.
Dearest Mercy,
Thank you, thank you, thank you the world over, darling sister of mine! I’ve been at Chauntilalie for nearly three weeks now and imagine I might remain here for quite a longer while yet.
Alexander Laurent has asked to court me and I’ve said yes.
Dear Sister,
Thank you so much for recommending me to Lady Laurent. I’ve begun work on Alexander’s portrait and
Mercy,
I so wish you were here. There’s so much I need to tell you and…I just really wish you were here.
Camille—
Why is it that no matter what I do, everything always comes back to you?
The clock on the desk of the study ticked softly, announcing the passing seconds with a mocking persistence. I fiddled with the order of paints laid upon the side table, then lined up the brushes, nudging them about until they ran perfectly parallel to each other.
I studied the portrait before me. Alexander’s form popped from the white canvas, half finished. His body, shown from the chest up, was nearly done. I’d need to add in little strokes of highlights over his fingers and the folds of fabric gathered across his sleeves, but was pleased with its current state.
Still, the clock ticked.
With a forceful exhale, I stood and paced the room, fluffing out the curtains to create a different effect, plumping pillows on the short settee, all the while listening to the incessant ticks go by.
Where was Alex?
It wasn’t like him to be late.
Usually, he joined Dauphine and me at the end of breakfast and we headed to the second floor for our first session together. But I’d eaten alone this morning after Dauphine sent word of amigraine. The footman who had delivered the message had offered Dauphine’s condolences in an unworried tone, saying the duchess was often prone to the headaches.
