Page 4 of Obsession: The Unspoken Sin
Her, a polite lady, living in a place such as this was an incongruity that wouldn’t make sense to a gentleman. They wouldn’t see a lady here because it would never cross their mind that one from a prestigious, respectable family would ever dare be here. Still, she didn’t worry for herself, but for her brother, sisters, mother, and her niece and nephew. It was why she’d lobbed off her blonde curls and kept her hair boy-length short. She could be any street urchin or nameless maid. Distracted from the artwork before her by worries about her family and any discovery that should be made, she thrust those thoughts aside. She hadn’t worried about such matters in a long while.
It'd taken years without whispers or mentions or hints of speculation about where she’d gone and what she’d done, before her dread had eased. It was only when letters arrived from herbrother, the latest of which had come yesterday morning, that she began being distracted. It was why she wasn’t working.
God love her big brother, Wynn, the Marquess of Exmoor. There wasn’t a more loyal, loving brother in all of England. Even if his sister wasn’t deserving of that devotion, she would do anything for him and their family, which was why she’d left. She just wished he’d stop writing and trying to get her to come back to the fold of the family.
Alice grimaced.
My God, did he truly think she would return when their sister made her Come Out, or that she would dare risk Elsbeth’s debut? Because when society saw Alice, they’d be reminded all over again that there’d been another Masterson sister. Now, they believed she was just a spinster living in the country. Spinsters were boring. They were uninteresting, and they were forgotten.
The minute Alice was resurrected from the dormant corner of people’s minds, she’d have to start all over again, getting them to forget her.
If Alice rejoined theton, it would be ruinous for Elsbeth.
As for Alice, she’d been ruined long ago. She’d been selfish enough before, believing herself in love, and she’d made the worst mistake. She was the one paying the price of atonement, and she’d be damned if Elspeth or anyone else did, too.
“You have been looking at that painting for a lifetime. You going to finish it?”
She cast an amused, playful look back at Addien.
Everyone here at the club called the young woman “Snap”, and given the maid’s short fuse, well it was an ideal nickname. Addien kept everyone at bay. But for some reason, when she’d met Alice, she’d taken a liking to her. The proud woman seemed to recognize on sight that Alice wished to keep a low profile here at The Devil’s Den. Not because she thought she was better.Rather because the fewer people who saw her, the better off she was. In that, she and Addien were alike.
Alice looked at the painting as the other woman saw it. “It looks remarkably like all the other ones I’ve done.” A single curl fell over Alice’s right eye, and she blew the strand back.
“Nah.” Addien hitched herself up onto the worktable containing Alice’s art supplies. “This one’s even more vulgar.” Addien flashed a naughty smile. “Dynevor is going to love it.”
The Earl of Dynevor, as in one of Alice’s employers, was a relative of her sister-in-law’s family. He’d opened his club to Alice as a refuge. The establishment had faded from its once glory and the young man had set to restoring and rebuilding. Hence, the work Alice was afforded. He, along with Lachlan Latimer and the Earl of Wakefield, had been supportive of her presence here.
The greatest of the surprises being Lord Wakefield, whom she’d known from back in her polite society days. They both had a secret on one another. No one knew of his ownership in this place. He preferred not to wildly and freely share that information.
Addien interrupted Alice’s wandering thoughts. “The painting is not what’s bothering you.”
Alice nodded, then shook her head. She was a terrible liar. It was another reason she’d left polite society. She didn’t bother hiding things from Addien, and it felt good to have someone to share one’s life with.
“The marquess again.” Addien correctly surmised for a second time.
Alice sighed. “The same.”
Her friend cursed. “Bloody nobs.”
Except her brother wasn’t justanynob. “Wynn isn’t like other noblemen,” Alice said gently. It wasn’t fair to let Addien,who was so mistrustful of peers, believe they were all bad. “He’s a good man, and he’s an even better brother.”
Her friend snorted. “If he was a better brother, he wouldn’t be haranguing you to return to a world you don’t want to belong to.”
Addien spoke with the sureness of a woman who’d been an orphan and raised herself on the streets alone.
Releasing a sound of frustration, Alice reached for her brush, dipped the bristles in crimson paint, and resumed her depiction of the Titian-haired goddess kneeling between the gentleman’s legs.
“It’s not that simple, Addien,” she said tiredly.
“And why not?”
“Because…”I miss my family.Alice wouldn’t say as much to the younger woman. Addien didn’t have any family. She’d been orphaned as a babe. Whereas Alice? Alice made the choice to exile herself. Yes, she’d done so to protect her family. Still, it had been Alice’s decision to never again see the Masterson’s.
Now, Addien explained the real reason for her presence here. “Wakefield’s got a new assignment for you.”
Ah.“A new patron’s room to paint?”
Addien nodded.
