Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50869 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
She winks at me before disappearing back through the doors. I stand there and suddenly don’t know what to do with my hands.
“Do you like it?” Caldwell asks, watching me carefully. “We can change anything you want. I can make a few calls.”
“Don’t do that. It’s beautiful.” I walk over to the windows and pull back one of the heavy curtains to be able to see out more.
It overlooks the gardens that go on forever. Pretty sure I spot a maze in the distance; there is also a pond with actual swans. “I don’t know how to be here.”
“Be however you want.”
“I can feed the swans?” I laugh when I see my question catches him off guard.
“I don’t know if you’re teasing me or not.”
“Well, if we go out there, I surely can’t go empty-handed. I’ll need bread.”
“There is fresh bread made daily. I’ll make sure a few loaves are set aside.”
I turn from the window to see he’s still watching me. It’s intense and makes my stomach flutter.
I was trying to play it cool, but Wells saw right through it. Sure, I come from money, but this is beyond that. This is more along the lines of I own a super yacht or two. I’m unequipped for this type of wealth or lifestyle.
“Cordelia grew up in places like this. She’s comfortable here.” I inwardly cringe; my insecurities are coming through.
“You’re not Cordelia.”
“No. I’m not.” I look back out the window. “But maybe she could teach me. The things I need to know. She offered and seemed sincere, and maybe I was wrong to—” I stop, shaking my head. “I want to be fair. That’s all. I don’t want to be the jealous girlfriend who sees threats everywhere. If I want us to have a chance, I have to give this a real go. To learn and try to assimilate somewhat to your lifestyle.”
Caldwell is quiet for a long moment. When I turn back, he’s closer, close enough to touch.
“Come here,” he says softly. He doesn’t wait for me to move; he pulls me into him. “I don’t want you to be Cordelia. Nor do I want you to have to assimilate,” he says, I rest my head against his chest. “I want you to be you, nothing more.”
I nod against his chest, smiling. That’s sweet of him to say, but I still want to learn everything that I can.
Soon the tea arrives, and I talk Mrs. Halloway into joining us. I listen to her and Wells tell stories about growing up here. Playing hide and seek in the maze, the time Wells almost drowned his brother in the pond, and all the other stories they’re willing to share. I eat them all up, ravenous for as much information as I can get. He teases Mrs. Halloway about her temper when anyone tracks mud through the kitchen.
I laugh, and some of the tightness in my chest loosens.
All of that sounds normal, and I can even picture the kids running around.
Maybe this is possible. Maybe I can learn this world without losing myself.
Maybe Cordelia really is trying to help.
Chapter Sixteen
CALDWELL
It’s a little insane to think Mable has been here barely a month. It feels like both yesterday and forever that I’ve had her with me. It’s hard to think of a life without her. The thought alone makes my chest grow hollow.
I watch her across the table, her nose in a book about Solarian history that Mrs. Halloway found for her, and I have to remind myself that this is real. Her glasses are perched on the end of her nose. I reach over and push them up, making her smile, but her eyes never leave the page.
The staff adores her too. It’s not the performative adoration that most show my mother, all curtsies and careful distance. It’s real affection. The way their faces light up when they see Mable coming. How does she know all their names and their kids? Yesterday she talked to the housekeeper Mary for an hour about her daughter.
The chef not only sneaks her extra pastries, but he also asks what she thinks about them. She was so excited since he showed her how to make a sourdough starter.
The groundskeeper taught her how to feed the swans without losing fingers. And last week—last week—she single-handedly transformed a struggling dress shop in town. She was walking by, exploring, when she passed the store and loved the items in the window.
“A local woman owns it,” she’d said, beaming at me while showing me the simple linen dress she’d gotten, nothing flashy. “They sew everything on-site. That way you can put it on and have it tailored right then. And they’re so fast. I met them all. The grandmother, mother, and daughter. They’ve been doing it for generations. They were all so lovely. The daughter has these chubby little cheeks.” Mable went on to tell me their life story for the next hour. I’d noted how she focused on the baby for longer than the others.