Nadine noticed that she wasn’t smiling.
At the bottom of the staircase was an old painting of a severe-looking woman wearing pearl-drop earrings and a high-collared dress, her gray hair pulled back into a tight bun that heightened the gaunt effect of her cheekbones. Nadine glanced at it, and then blinked when she saw the name. Evangeline—but much older from her parlor portrait.
She looks like she’s seen some shit, thought Nadine, glancing at the dark undereye circles that the painter had, rather cruelly in Nadine’s opinion, opted to leave in the work.
Or maybe this house takes something out of you.
At this point, she knew the path to the kitchen fairly well, so she was surprised when the only person waiting there was a maid, who uttered a little exclamation of shock before informing her that “the family always has dinner in the dining room.”
Oh, Cal did mention that, didn’t he?But it had been a while ago, at the wedding, so she had forgotten. “I don’t know where that is,” she said. It hadn’t been on the tour.
The maid made a noise of impatience. “Come with me.”
She walked briskly out of the room without waiting for a response, leaving Nadine with little choice but to follow.
They went down a long hall with green latticed wallpaper and into a side room, which branched into a large, open space with a hardwood table that had to be at least twelve feet long. A heavy chandelier made of deer antlers and iron chains hung suspended over the table and the sharp, organic curves of it were off-putting, and threw strange shadows over the walls, which had been painted in thick stripes of black and white that converged at the apex of the pointed ceiling, giving the unsettling impression of being imprisoned inside a giant top.
The table was already set. Gold-rimmed bone china plates and crystal goblets, with a bottle of wine opened and waiting in the center of the table. Nadine’s heart sank when she recognized the brand. It was from the winery that Noelle had used to work at, when she had been the manager of a small, family-owned estate near Pineview. Before she married Ben.
She must have brought it for them as a gift. It was the sort of thing she’d do, thoughtful and self-laudatory.I’m kindandsuccessful. Choose me. And choose her Ben had, and now she was gone like she’d never been here at all. What was the purpose in laying it out now? Error? Or deliberate cruelty?
Nadine hesitated over where to sit, looking at the place settings. When she looked up to ask the maid, she saw that the woman had disappeared. In her place, a shadow flickered in the hallway, and then Nathaniel slid into the room, wearing a dress shirt and creased slacks.
“Nadine,” he said. “What an expected pleasure. You are a beacon of light in this dark room.”
“Ha, thanks,” she said nervously, remembering his advice—keep him excited. She took an unconscious step back so that the chair, as well as the table, were between them. “Neat room.”
“It’s a recent addition. Early 1920s. Art deco, I believe they call it. Do sit down, my dear. There’s no need to stand on ceremony. Please, allow me.”
He walked around the table, making her stiffen when he laid his hand on the back of the chair, forcing her to step back again as he pulled it out in a sweeping gesture of courtliness that didn’t fool her for a moment, because when she turned, his eyes went to the low neck of her blouse.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said, when she twitched from his fingers. “Let me pour you some wine. It’s from your sister’s estate, you know.”
“I noticed,” she said tightly.
“I thought you might. You seem very observant.” His chest pushed against her back as he poured her much too big a glass. “Do you like your room?”
Nadine flinched when a few drops of the wine splattered her chest as he carelessly pulled the bottle back. “No,” she said, when he reached for her. She covered the wine with her hand, smearing it away.Get away from me, you creep.
“You don’t like it?” he said softly.
“Of course she does.” Cal’s voice, softly spoken, made Nadine start guiltily towards the door. He was leaning against the wall in his shirtsleeves, arms folded. “Women love the unicorn room.”
“Caledon,” Nathaniel said, sweeping upright. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Really? You’ll have to let me know what she said that ensnared you so completely.”
“We were just talking about the girl’s accommodations,” his father said.
“Hm.” Cal swung around the table with lazy indolence to drop into the empty chair beside Nadine. “Did she happen to mention that she’s been trying to cover Caledon Cullraven’s portrait with a sweater?”
Both men glanced at her. “I—I don’t like the eyes,” she said faintly. “Or the b-blood.”
“But blood is the nectar of life,” Nathaniel said. “Isn’t that right, Cal?”
“What’s this about blood?” Odessa demanded, straightening the lavender skirt of her dress as she barged in. “Ben didn’t throw one of his dirty hunting shirts in the wash again, did he?”
Her eyes flicked over the table before lighting on Nadine and then she smiled.
