Page 7 of Things We Do for Love and Science
And what about Liam and Mary? They’d have to leave their apartment in the Hall’s newer wing. Gabriel couldn’t do that to them. They were getting on and would find it difficult to settle someplace else.
He rubbed his brow with both hands. Things were dire, and he was in no shape to make far-reaching decisions. Too emotionally raw. Creating this painting would be a reprieve, a break, and he was more than thankful to the young scientist who pitied him enough to give up many of her afternoons.
Well, hehadclimbed into the family vault for her and messed with Edwin’s ancient skull. One day he’d be in there turning to dust alongside his parents and all the other Renwoods who’d been bad with money and incapable of moving with the times.
He shook his head. Enough with the pondering. He needed to concentrate on the files and ledgers before him. With his good head for numbers, there was a sliver of a chance he could hold onto Renwood Hall by opening it to the public. Provided he could raise the money for the necessary renovations.
Chapter Three
Delia snapped her laptopshut. Her research paper had been published to favorable peer reviews, another steppingstone toward her grand goal. She’d worked like a draught horse for years. Her research was sound and had earned her respect in her field.
Nothing should get in her way except for John, of course. He could, on a whim, prefer any one of his pet researchers over her no matter how sterling her record. Personal politics carried weight, and John Winter was intentionally unpredictable. ‘Keep them on their toes’ was his motto.
Time for a cup of hot chocolate to celebrate her paper. She pushed her chair back, stretched, and yawned. It had been an intense couple of weeks. Not that she could go any slower now that John had sunk his teeth into the ‘Renwood Longevity Project’ and counted on herfull and unfailing supportwhich translated to, ‘Cordelia, you do the monkey work in the lab, the DNA extraction, the sequencing, give me your best educated guesses and ideas, and yes, I, Professor John Winter, will rake in the rewards and bask in the glory once the project proves to be a resounding success as it’d better be if you want to get tenure, young lady.’
Once she was free from his clutches, she’d burn an effigy of him.
She went into the kitchen, poured milk into a saucepan, and put it on the hob.
The Renwood Longevity Project was a pompous name for a bit of genetic sequencing and some guesswork. She turned the heat down and stirred the chocolate powder into the simmering milk. Her favorite red ceramic mug, covered all over in white polka dots, sat on the counter top. She poured the drink into it and pulled up a chair. Between careful sips of the hot beverage, she mulled over her plans for the day. In an hour, she’d have to present herself to his lordship to be painted.
What a weird situation she’d gotten herself into. Anyway, it would be fine. Gabriel didn’t give off any creepy vibes, and she didn’t suspect there’d be too much chit-chat involved. She could get lost in her thoughts while he painted her.
An email pinged into her inbox. She grabbed her phone and peered at the message.
Cordelia,
Please procure a DNA sample from the third earl’s wife. ASAP.
Rgds, John
Her hands curled into fists, fingernails digging into her palms. She was so close. So very close to murdering him.
A few slow breaths would lower her cortisol levels and give her a clear head to focus on her goal. Her chest expanded on a deep inhale. She only needed to hang in a little longer. John couldn’t leave her dangling forever; the dean had a say in the matter as well.
Sipping her hot chocolate, she suppressed the impulse to fire out a scathing reply.
