Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115468 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Did he even suggest you coming with him to London?” Faith asked cautiously.
I shook my head. “He knows I can’t do that. Plus, honestly? I don’t want to move that far away from Mud Gulch. I already miss my uncles and I’m only three hours away. I mean, can you picture it? Me knocking around London while Gage works ungodly hours, growing lonelier while he starts resenting me for whining to him about how he never spends enough time with me?”
The truth, though? If he had asked, I would have considered it. I loved him. I wanted to be with him. But as I spoke about the potential scenario, I realized what a terrible idea it would truly be. I’d be homesick. He’d be busy. Not just for a month or two, but for years on end. And it’d kill me to watch him work endlessly to please others, suppressing the spark of emotion he’d allowed to glow brightly with me because he’d clearly labeled it temporary.
No, he wasn’t going to ask me to go with him to London. But despite what he’d said, he seemed undecided on Blakely and the approval their union would garner. And really, maybe it was a good idea that Blakely accompany him there. She’d been his friend his whole life. She would likely be happy enough with the limited hours he had to give her. Plus, I’d looked her up on Instagram in a moment of weakness and saw that she was a stylist with two million followers. Two million! I had thirty-seven, and one of them was my uncle, Romeo. Blakely Wingate would thrive in London.
My shoulders slumped as depression descended. “Whatever we had together was never about London, or a future. What we had together was temporary. And now it’s over.”
“Things change,” she murmured.
I blinked as, behind her, three familiar women approached. Oh no.
Mrs. Bellamy. Mrs. Ramsbottom. Mrs. Buchanan.
My heart lurched and instinctively, I leaned toward the dogs, protecting them. But that was silly. These were their masters. They didn’t belong to me.
Nothing here did.
Faith’s expression had morphed into confusion at what must be the sudden look of alarm on my face, and she turned as the three older women came to stand next to our table.
“Aurora Casteel,” Mrs. Bellamy said, her nostrils flaring as she peered down at me with barely contained contempt. I almost groaned. Oh God. She’d found out my real name. Next to her the other two women looked on, Mrs. Ramsbottom’s expression filled with more disdain than that of Mrs. Bellamy, while Gage’s mother looked vaguely embarrassed.
Likely for me.
“We found out who you are,” Mrs. Ramsbottom said.
“Ladies, is this really the place?” Faith asked as she glanced around the crowded courtyard.
Mrs. Bellamy’s chin rose. “Calliope should know that there’s a fraud and a liar in their midst, attempting to swindle them out of valuable artwork. Really, Faith, you should be ashamed. You must have known.”
“Stop, please,” I said, standing. “Faith had nothing at all to do with this. I…I lied to her too.”
Roxy moaned, a mournful sound that made my heart squeeze. I reached down and put my hand on her head to calm her.
“Rory—”
“Faith,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’m sorry I deceived you. I’m not really an appraiser,” I asserted, because I couldn’t save myself, but I could try to save her.
“Yes, I’m aware,” Faith said, anger flaring in her eyes as she stared daggers at the women. “Rory has a good reason—”
“Your mother was Ophelia Casteel. I remembered the name. A troublemaker just like you. You took us all for fools. You’re a disgrace.”
Tears filled my eyes. I could take a lot, and perhaps I deserved this dressing down after lying to these women and taking advantage of their trust. But the mention of my mother’s name brought a longing within that I could not suppress, not in that moment when I wanted her arms around me so desperately, soothing me, making it all okay. “Say whatever you want about me,” I said, swiping at the tear that fell down my cheek. “But do not talk about my mother.”
“We have nothing left to say about either of you,” Mrs. Ramsbottom declared.
“I think that’s enough,” Mrs. Buchanan said quietly. “Let’s go.”
Mrs. Ramsbottom let out a small shriek and we all looked down to see Bartholomew with his leg lifted as he urinated on her foot. She yanked her leg back and shook it violently, letting out a series of cuss words that I wouldn’t have guessed she was even familiar with.
“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Bellamy said. “Bad dog.” She leaned over and picked Bartholomew up off the ground and secured him under her arm. I reached for him, worried that he’d be punished for his act of defiance but let my arm drop as she turned away. Bartholomew could be a little monster, but she’d taught him to be that way. And underneath, he was a protective, naughty little sweetheart who went a little wild under a small amount of freedom and I loved him with all my heart. I sucked back a sob as I went over and untied the leashes from the gate and Mrs. Ramsbottom and Mrs. Bellamy tore the leashes out of my hands before I could even hand them over, making me gasp as another tear spilled down my cheek. I felt like Cinderella being ripped to shreds by her stepsisters, only instead of the dress I was wearing, they were ripping the dogs I’d come to love away from me. “I will return Roxy,” Mrs. Bellamy said, snatching her leash as well as though retrieving stolen goods from me.