“Tea?” He put a hand on the knob. “I’ll ask Mason to bring a repast.”
“No, thank you.” A cold sensation set on the bottom of her stomach. “I…”
“Please take a seat.”
She did as told gladly because her legs quivered. “I’m really sorry to have lied to you.” She had to let those words out as soon as possible.
He sat in front of her, staring at her intently. “I’m sorry, too. I thought we were good friends and that you knew you could tell me anything.”
Oh, that hurt. But she understood him. “I didn’t want to disappoint you, but I realise I disappointed you more by lying. It’s that once I started lying, I couldn’t stop. It became an escape of sorts if it makes sense.”
“So what did you do in the past years?”
There was no reproach in his voice, only sadness, which pained her more.
“At first, I tried to get back to studying, but it didn’t have the same meaning. I wondered what kind of experiences I had missed while I was reading and studying. If I’d died that day in the Thames, my whole life would have been about studying and nothing else. The answer scared me because aside from my books, I didn’t have anything. No friends, no hobbies, no experiences. I thought of what you told me about enjoying life more. The near-death experience pushed me to try something new, and my life became worse from that moment on. I lost control of my life. It was so controlled before the incident, and it became the opposite afterwards. I didn’t want you to think of me as a silly, shallow girl.” She exhaled to take a breather. “I volunteer at St. Brigid Hospital in the dispensary, but aside from that, I don’t deal with medical science anymore.”
The whole speech sounded absurd to her own ears. Mostly, it sounded incredible that half a decade had passed between a party and a day in the dispensary.
She shivered when he gently took her hands and sat next to her on the sofa. For some silly reason, his concern for her sliced her chest open, and pain poured through the cracks.
A cold shiver slithered through her, leaving a trail of goosebumps over her skin. In the past years, she’d never cried. After the incident, she’d shed her share of tears.
But that day, sitting next to Perry and his compassion, the dam holding her tears back broke. A tear slid down her cheek. She bit down a sob because she didn’t want to fall to pieces.
“What about your parents?” he asked in a gentle tone.
“My father barely talks to me. He hates that I stopped studying. My mother tries to convince me to return to study or get married, but her disappointment is obvious. Marianne…I fear she might hate me.”
“No, your sister and your parents love you.” He rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. “You aren’t happy. That’s the problem.”
“No, I’m not. The parties and excesses give me a glimpse of happiness that lasts a second. Then I’m empty of emotions, as if I didn’t care about anything. A wraith until the whole circle starts again. And then there’s the darn painting.”
“Edith.” He touched her cheek gently. “What is it? What do you want?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered in a cracking voice. “I don’t know anymore. Even when I get something I want, satisfaction eludes me, and I start chasing a new thrill, an exciting new thing. It’s exhausting.”
“You know I won’t let anyone see the Star Maiden. Hell, I’ll destroy it if you want me to.” He drew soothing circles over the back of her hand.
“Too many times people have had to repair the damage I’ve caused. No, I want to pay for the painting.”
“There’s no need for that. I don’t want your money.”
“I want to do it. It’s only right. Somehow, some way, I’ll find the money to buy the painting from you.”
Perry reclined on the sofa. “I have a proposition. You’ll work for me for the next six months. After that period, you can consider me reimbursed for the purchase of the painting. No money required. Then we’ll discuss what you want to do with the Star Maiden.”
“Work for you? Doing what?”
He stared into her eyes as if he wanted to see her soul. “We’ll find something.”
“I’m not good at anything.”
“That’s not true, and your skills are the least of your problems. But I have to tell you, I love the Star Maiden.”
She tasted the saltiness of her desperation on her lips. “Do you really like the painting?” She had no idea why that comment intrigued her.
He looked surprised. “Of course I do. It’s exquisite. Mr. Carter has talent, and you’re stunning. I’d like to keep it, so it’s not for sale. But if you work for me, I’ll consider myself reimbursed.”
“All right.” She smiled, maybe for the first time in years. “I agree to work for you.”
“Fantastic.” He squeezed her hand. “You’ll start tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock. Don’t be late.”
