Page 49 of Passion and Privilege

“Timothy doesn’t want me to. When the master speaks, the peasant must obey.”

I tried not to laugh. “Okay, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

As I walked back to the room that I’d been working on, I couldn’t help but think about the conversation with Paisley. It reminded me so much of my own teenage years, full of rebellion and distaste for authority. But unlike Paisley, I didn’t grow up in a mansion with a generous father. Instead, I was raised in a small house with my single father who worked day and night to provide for us.

She didn’t know how good she had it.

Chapter Twenty-One

Timothy

THE SOFT HUM OF EQUIPMENT running up on the third floor provided the only sound in my office as I sifted through paperwork. I was still running the company from my office here. One day, I would take a much bigger step back, but for now, I still needed to keep an eye on things.

The door creaked open, which was a hard no-no for anyone. Everyone knew to stay out of my office when I was working. Only Bennet was allowed to disturb me but I knew he wouldn’t unless the house was on fire.

I glanced up to find Paisley sauntering in. That surprised me. She usually went out of her way to avoid me.

“Hey,” I said, pulling off my reading glasses. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“How’s your day going?” I asked, my eyes trailing over the smudges of paint that splattered her clothes. Catherine had given her the bright idea to paint a mural in her room. At first, I had been against it, but it was just paint. If it made her happy, so be it.

She slumped into one of the antique chairs in front of my desk, a sigh escaping her. “Bored. I’ve been painting that damn mural in my room. It’s taking forever. I think I’ve changed my mind.”

“Changed your mind?”

“I don’t think I like it. I might want to do something else. I don’t know. It’s boring.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Well, at least it’s keeping you busy.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What else have you been up to?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes, a smirk playing on her lips. “Hanging out with Catherine most of the time. Learning about this old house. Not exactly a thrill.”

I had seen her and Catherine working together. At first, I didn’t want it, but it was really the only time I saw Paisley showing any interest in anything. If Catherine was what it took to bring Paisley out of her teenage funk, I would take it. Having Catherine under the same roof was proving to be a bigger benefit to me than her.

“Catherine is very passionate about this house,” I said, nodding.

“I know. It’s all she talks about.”

“Have you learned anything?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know.”

I knew Paisley didn’t just wander into my office for no reason. There was something on her mind. Experience had taught me not to push. She would tell me when she was ready.

“I don’t want to go back to Germany at the end of summer,” she blurted out.

My heart squeezed. I knew she didn’t want that, but I didn’t know how to stop it. Kidnapping wasn’t exactly something I was prepared to do.

“I know,” I said, nodding.

“I sure as hell don’t want to go back to boarding school,” she complained, her frustration evident.

I could hear the underlying hurt in her voice. She would never admit her mother shipping her off hurt her feelings, but I knew her. I had raised her from a little girl. The surly teen sitting in front of me was still that little girl that crawled into my lap every night for a bedtime story, and I knew her better than she gave me credit for. I also felt the same way. The thought of her across the ocean, out of my reach, sent a pang of unease through my chest. She was my child, not some toy to be passed back and forth between her mother and me.