Page 44 of Burning Secrets of a Lady's Pen
“I do not think little of you. I consider us to be friends.” But she didn’t say anything as to believing Imelda’s words, and the lack of her doing such spoke volumes.
Imelda felt her chest cave in, her throat bobbing as she turned on her heel and rudely walked the other way. Today was just the day for her running away, apparently…from one situation or another.
She couldn’t stomach such an accusation. She wasn’t cozying up to Corin. That history had existed long before she knew he was Prospero, long before she knew of any literary connections that he might have, but their shared kiss earlier that morning burned in the back of her mind still.
She hadn’t known it before she’d kissed him so wantonly.
Even without their history and drama, even without all of the questions between them, there was nothing that could come of what had happened before. Not with Joanne’s accusation so fresh. Not without someone, somewhere, assuming the same if anything more were to come of it.
Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she traded the warmth of the estate in for the brisk evening air of the gardens beyond it. She couldn’t even appreciate the blooming flowers around her, her form pacing back and forth between two flowering bushes as she tried to gather her thoughts.
The whole situation had already been cast in shadow. Belle had seen to that. But now…
“Imelda?”
Lady Waddeson’s voice came as a surprise as the woman herself descended from between two well-cultivated trees. She was as stately as she always was, her white hair piled high on her head and her eyes sparkling with that energy that always seemed to cloak her.
“Lady Waddeson,” Imelda greeted, bobbing her head as she hurriedly tried to regain some modicum of composure. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t hear you—”
“How could you, dear? I’ve only just followed you out.” Lady Waddeson laughed, waving a hand dismissively as she swanned over the rest of the way to where Imelda stood. “Don’t trouble yourself. I saw your hasty retreat earlier. I can only imagine that it came to wordy blows with Miss Tuberville and yourself. It does happen when two such strong-minded ladies have such similar goals. Competition is the bane of a peaceful friendship.”
Imelda felt her eyes tear up again, her breath catching in her chest at how warmly the older woman spoke. There was no judgment in her tone, only an understanding that made Imelda feel more seen than she had in ages.
“I didn’t—” Imelda cut off, her sigh heartfelt as she looked away. “I didn’t expect such a thing, honestly. I want to pursue my career, I do, but I feel like there are all these obstacles that I never even imagined existing cropping up along the way…” The words poured out of her like the dam that held them back had been broken, her misery over it creeping into her tone.
“My dear, ambition of any sort comes with a price. Ambition as a woman, though? Among scholarly pursuits of any sort? One must be willing to sacrifice any manner of things to be taken seriously. If your goal is to actually be published…”
“Oh, it is,” Imelda assured her quickly. “I want nothing more!”
“Then you must be willing to chase such goals, no matter the obstacles.” Lady Waddeson’s smile was soft, her hand lifting so that she could tuck a stray curl behind Imelda’s ear.
The move was so familiar and fond that Imelda’s heart stuttered within her chest.
“Aunt Lydia,” a deep voice interrupted, making only Imelda jump.
But, of course, it did.
Imelda hadn’t been expecting to have to face Corin again so soon, or on the cusp of such an emotional moment.
“Oh, Corin, you lovely boy! I see you brought me the advanced copies of the books I requested!” She grinned, tapping Imelda’s cheek once with her fingers before turning to take the small stack of books that Corin carried. “I was just talking to Miss Merrit about her future career. Perhaps you can offer a critic’s view for her since I have to carry these in.”
It was such a kind suggestion, one made so clearly with Imelda’s best intentions at heart, that there was no polite way for Imelda to refuse. Though she desperately wished to. Even as Lady Waddeson made her graceful exit, she searched her mind for any excuse.
“Imelda—”
“Please, don’t,” Imelda begged, her voice catching in her throat as she remembered the way that Joanne had looked at her and the accusations that she had made.
“We need to discuss—”
“No,” Imelda interrupted again, a note of hysteria creeping into her words. “We do not need to discuss anything. Earlier—” Flashes of his hands against hers, of the heat of his lips and how wild he had made her invaded her mind, and she had to blink them away along with her tears. She steeled her voice, making herself lift her chin and meet his gaze as if she really and truly believed every word that she spoke. “Earlier was a mistake. The kiss, us…I need to focus on my career, Corin.”
Even if it broke her heart again in the process of doing so. Even if it made her feel as if the world were falling out from under her feet.
After all…success came with a price.
Chapter 16
Solitude had always been Corin’s friend.
