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I wake up the next morning, surprised that I’m still in a sour mood. Last night was not at all what I was hoping it’d be. After Nicholas and I argued out on the lawn, I found Cornelia, feigned a headache, and ran straight up to my room, locking the door behind me for good measure.
Nicholas’ reaction to me was so strong. The way he looked at me across the ballroom—it’s like he hated me upon sight. Is that a thing? People drone on about love at first sight, but what about the opposite? Can someone lay eyes on a stranger one time and decide on a whim to hate them forever after?
I’m not saying he doesn’t have his reasons for being slightly annoyed.
I understand it was probably a shock to see me in his mother’s necklace, but I am going to give it back to Cornelia! And what does it matter anyway? Is he going to wear the damn thing? I doubt anyone’s even laid eyes on it in years. It was probably collecting dust in some forgotten jewelry box inside this palatial house.
And sure, maybe he was also surprised to find me in attendance at the ball instead of working it like all of Cornelia’s other employees, but she’s the one who invited me, so if he has an issue, he needs to take it up with her.
Even viewing the events of last night through his eyes, there was no reason for him to be so rude. The way he spoke to me, the look of contempt in his gaze—he would have ground me into dust if he had the chance.
Ordering me to leave like that?
Who does he think he is!?
My hands turn into fists at my sides and my molars clench. If he were in front of me right now, I swear I’d throw something at him, the first thing within reach—my pillow, I guess. Shame. Too bad I don’t sleep with an anvil handy.
I stay up in my room all morning, telling anyone who comes by that I still have a headache when, in fact, I’m being a coward.
I can’t face him again so soon. I still feel caught off guard by last night. So, I stay in my room and shuffle around, cleaning up anything that looks even remotely untidy. When I’m done, I finish a book I borrowed from Cornelia’s library and then reach for another. I brought in a new stack two days ago and plopped it down on my bedside table. I thought it’d take me longer to work through it. At this rate, I’ll be done by dinner.
Cornelia comes to check on me, worried that I haven’t come down from my room yet.
Fortunately, she finds me back in bed reading. Five minutes earlier and she would have stumbled in on me doing push-ups to cure my boredom.
She feels my forehead then lets her hand gently cup my cheek. “Should I send for a doctor? You’re flushed.”
Yeah, well…I don’t work out a lot.
“No!” My response is too emphatic, so I shift gears. “I’m not that sick. It’s just a headache, maybe a mild cold. I bet I’ll be better by morning.” And if Nicholas is still here, well then maybe this cold will linger for another day or two.
“All right. I’ll have Patricia bring up something small for you to nibble on.”
I almost ask her about Nicholas before she leaves, but I bite my tongue. He’s her grandson, and nothing I say against him could possibly go over well. There’s no way she’d take my side over his.
In the early evening, I find the courage to quietly roam the halls, mostly owing to the cabin fever that was starting to set in. It’s aimless at first, just a way to get myself out of my room, but when I find myself standing in front of Nicholas’ portrait, I realize I was in search of it all along.
I stand back and study it, comparing young Nicholas to the man I met last night. It seems impossible that he could have grown more severe and cold, more confident and haughty, but I have the living proof in my memory.
I think of the way he looked out on the lawn, lit by the warm light spilling out of Rosethorn’s ballroom. There are details about him I wish I could smudge out with an eraser. His coal black hair set against his tan skin. His clean-shaven jaw locked tight in annoyance. His piercing brown eyes narrowed down at me. His lips forming cruel words. I doubt his mouth has ever felt the joy of a smile. I doubt he knows what it feels like to be kind.
Ha.
After that one brief encounter with him, I know for a fact he’s someone I’d like to never see again. And yet, I stand in front of his portrait until Rita finds me and asks what I’m doing.
