Page 14
“Shauna. Princess of Blarney Castle.” The voice from behind draws my attention toward an older, but no less elegant, woman than the doll in the case. Graying hair betrays the silky texture of her skin, and though she must be near the age of sixty, her lithe form and regal stance don’t give the impression she’s in much need of assistance. Only the cane she leans slightly against gives any indication of physical deficiencies. “Certainly not the most expensive one I’ve purchased, but I appreciate the fire in her eyes.”
Fire is definitely how I’d describe my mother, though her flame has dimmed over the last decade to a dullness just short of death.
“She’s beautiful.”
“She is.” The woman’s eyes dip to my outfit and back to me, the disapproval hidden behind a slight smile. “You must be my new babysitter.”
“Just … a companion.”
“Companion is just an adult word for babysitter.” Again her eyes appraise me. “You’re a local girl.”
“It’s obvious, I guess.”
“No proper teenage girl would choose to wear fishing mucks.”
Cheeks burning with embarrassment, I swallow back the catty sarcasm I’ve always reserved for the pretentious bitches I grew up with, the ones who had a problem with my clothes. The fact is, they’re Aunt Midge’s old shoes. The only pair I own that don’t have as many holes as my jeans. “I’ll be sure to get a better pair.”
“I’ll have Rand get in touch with Amy to have you outfitted for the job.”
I have no idea who Amy is, or how much of this is going to be taken out of my pay, but it sounds well beyond what I can afford. “I … um. I didn’t realize there was a specific wardrobe requirement.” My comment isn’t meant to sound snarky, but somehow that’s how it comes out. To me, anyway.
“You’ll be attending some important engagements with me. I’ll not have you looking like you crawled onto port.”
This woman doesn’t seem in need of medical assistance, or companionship, though she could benefit from some manners. I’m the last person to care about etiquette, but within a relatively short span of time, she’s already made me feel inferior, which I’m certain is her MO. My purpose here has officially eluded me. I guess I had the impression she was less alert and aware. Maybe not quite a vegetable, but not full-on capable of slinging insults so proficiently, either.
“Are you going to sit there, admiring dolls all day, or make yourself useful?”
Blinking out of my thoughts, I stare back at her. “I’m sorry, I think I may have misunderstood my purpose here.”
“Well, that makes two of us.”
“I just mean, I was under the impression you needed more … assistance. You seem perfectly capable to me.”
Her eyes narrow, before softening to amusement, as she hobbles across the room toward where a teapot and cups are set out on a small table. “Tea?”
Rand’s words from before come to mind, and though I hate tea as much as I do an overcooked plate of crab legs, I nod. I’m damn well determined to find some common ground with this woman, even if it leaves a bitter flavor on my tongue.
After pouring the tea into a porcelain cup that looks like an adult version of the set Aunt Midge bought me for my tenth birthday, Mrs. Blackthorne hands it off to me. It’s an amber colored tea with a slight sweet scent, and I let the warmth of the cup leach into my ice cold hands.
“What do I call you?”
Nice, I forgot to mention my name. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you earlier. I’m Isa. Izzy, if you prefer.”
“I never bothered to ask. Isa. As in Isabelle?” She lowers herself to the seat across from me, setting the cane off to the side, and lifts the teacup to her lips.
“Isadora.”
There’s only a slight tremble in her hand, as she sips the drink and sets the teacup tittering against the saucer on the table in front of her. “Shame. I love the name Isabelle.”
Shame. The only kind thing my mother ever did for me was naming me after my grandmother.
“Have you met Lucian yet?” Her question interrupts my thoughts.
“No. Rand says I probably won’t have much contact with him.”
“It’s probably just as well. He’s not much for socializing these days.”
“He likes his privacy. I respect that.”
