Dad attempted to calm Mamma down, but she stormed off in a melodramatic wail of tears. I’d have felt bad if I believed for a second any of her concerns truly had to do with my well-being. Don’t get me wrong. I knew my mother loved me. But her first thought would always be for herself, and how it looked that Chiara Howard’s daughter had married an anonymous farmer.
“We’re coming to Scotland at the end of the summer before filming on my new movie starts,” Dad had replied with an unsure smile. “We’ll meet your young man then.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
“Congratulations, angel.”
Aching regret had plagued me at the sadness in his eyes. My feelings for my dad were so complicated, and I wished things were easier between us. “Thanks.”
We’d ended the call and I’d gone to find Jared to apologize for my mother’s appalling behavior. Thankfully, he didn’t put up walls between us again and we’d found a rhythm in our marriage these last few weeks.
Other than the fact that we weren’t having the sex my body so desperately wanted, we lived like a real husband and wife. I took over some morning chores at the farm, including helping to keep the house clean, then I went about my day, whether it was at the studio or exploring for inspiration. Or catching up with Aria and/or Sloane for lunch. Sarah and Theo had left for their place in Gairloch with an open invitation for us to visit. In the evenings, I’d come home and Jared and I would take turns making dinner, sometimes cooking together. We’d catch each other up on our days, and then we’d settle in the living room to watch TV before bed.
It wasn’t glamorous.
It was a simple life.
And if it had also involved banging my hot husband every night, it would have been a perfect life.
A life I’d always dreamed of.
Which made it infinitely dangerous to me.
“I’ll show you my favorite,” Jared suddenly said, tugging on my hand.
He pulled me through the crowd, most of them turning to peer at us curiously as we passed. Then he stopped me in front of one of my larger pieces. It was a landscape, inspired by the northern lights. I’d visited Shetland in February. It was my first time on the island and the couple who ran the B&B I’d stayed atcouldn’t have been kinder. They pretty much adopted me on that trip, and they’d taken me to see the northern lights. It was one of the most wondrous moments of my life.
I’d painted the greens and yellows and pinks as if they’d been misted by rain, some lines splattered with a thickness to create texture. Shards of thinly sliced opal mingled with the paint, reflecting light and shimmer against flecks of metallic glitter. Darker shadows created the mountains at night. And through the paint I’d sprinkled tiny garnets over the mountains to emulate garnets that were found on the rocks on Shetland. A line of copper paint represented the sunset the evening I’d seen them, haloing the dark mountains.
This was one ofmyfavorite pieces I’d ever done. “This isyourfavorite?” I asked in awe.
Jared nodded, studying it with genuine appreciation in his eyes. “I think it’s stunning. It’s the northern lights, right?”
I bit my lip to stop the cheesy grin. The art was titledShetland, so the fact that he understood what I’d attempted to capture was huge. “It is.” I turned to him, and Jared faced me. “It’s so weird … this is one of my favorite pieces ever. Michelle really had to talk me into selling it.”
“Aye?” He frowned. “Don’t sell it, then. If you want to keep it, you should.You’reallowed to enjoy the art you create.”
Studying the glass, I realized he was right. I’d let Michelle convince me to sell this one because I thought as an artist, I was supposed to share everything I created. But … why couldn’t I keep this one for me?
“It would look great above the fireplace instead of that old mirror we have now,” Jared murmured thoughtfully.
He wanted to put my art in the farmhouse?
My heart skipped a freaking beat.
“Let me just find Michelle and tell her to stick aSOLDsign on it.”
Jared grinned. “You do that.”
Michelle’s gallery in Inverness was not a huge space. This was my second time showing at her gallery, and the place was more packed than it had been the first time. Aria had been set to attend until I learned this weekend was the only chance she had to see North while he was shooting on location in Paris. Otherwise, she wouldn’t see him for another few weeks. I’d told her to go visit her husband. I had mine to keep me company.
As for the rest of our friends, I hadn’t told them about the show. It was easier to be vulnerable with strangers about my work than with those who knew and cared about me.
Approaching Michelle, I commented on how busy the gallery was.
“I told you people are loving your work. I’ve been sending pieces all over the country.” Michelle gave my shoulders a squeeze. “You’re one of my top artists, Allegra. You should be so proud of yourself.”
I did feel a swell of pride. Grinning, I replied, “Speaking of, I want you to put aSOLDsign onShetland.”
