Page 104 of Tears of Ink

He steps closer, his body close but not close enough. “Faith, let it go.”

I stare into his face, searching for some familiarity there from our weekend, or the car, or all the many moments I’ve etched into my brain but it’s not there. “Like bloody hell, I will.” With a shove of my elbow, I push past him and march for the house looking for Jennifer, finding her in a room I haven’t seen before. Containing a Regency desk and decorated in pale pastels and paler wood, it’s the most feminine study I’ve ever seen. Jennifer sits behind the desk reading some papers, a cup of tea steaming in front of her.

“Why have you asked Steers to stay?” I ask and plant myself directly in front of her.

She sighs and glances up at me. “What are you talking about?”

“Gerard told me you’d asked him to stay and work the project, and Eli—Elijah’s just confirmed it, but why?”

“There’s a lot to do, can you really do it by yourself?”

“A lot to do for what?”

“For my ball, of course.”

I glare at her in bewilderment. “When I took this job, no one told me anything about a ball or the fact this was all leading to one. Is this what Elijah wanted when he arranged this? I don’t think so. Why are you making it all about some social event now?”

She stands, her slender hip perching against the desk. “I don’t expect you to understand, but everything we do is for some ulterior purpose. Elijah knew when he arranged his art outreach project that it would be to bring attention to Bowsley; to open it to the public eye, to get interest so we can earn an income from the property.”

“No, it wasn’t.” I shake my head. “He did it because he loves art and he wants to help others less fortunate.”

She chuckles and shakes her head like I’m some naughty, but cheeky young child.

“Work with Gerard, make it beneficial. Who knows what press and gallery acquisitions buyers will be here for the ball; maybe it will be worth your while as much as ours.”

I’m simmering, every cuss I know stinging the tip of my tongue.

With a turn, I flounce for the door.

“Oh, Faith,” she calls me back.

“Yes.” My hands are clenched into fists.

“I’ve told Elijah that whatever this is you think you have going on between you, it’s over. As of now.” She eyes me coolly while I seethe inside. “Have your weekend, take from that what you may. But Elijah is returning to London and you will leave him alone if you value your future here on this project.”

“And you think the project is more important because?”

“I’ve had confirmation the acquisitions director of the Tate Modern is coming to our little summer ball. She’s even seen some of your work already.”

My stomach drops away. “How?”

“I sent her one of your flowers.”

She did what? “Why?”

Jennifer settles back into her chair. “Because contrary to popular belief I’m not a complete bitch. You are talented.”

I don’t know what to say.

Is she bribing me to say away from Elijah by dangling the biggest carrot in the art world under my nose?

Well, fuck that. I straighten myself up tall. “Elijah wants me. Maybe that’s something you are just going to have to deal with, but I know he won’t let me down.”

I walk out without a backward glance and head back to my room.

Is Elijah really going to London and staying away? Staying away from me and his project, his dream? I can’t believe what she said. She’s wrong. I just know it.

He’s sat on my bed, his head in his hands. I snort when I see him and slam the door shut. “What happened to taking one at a time together?”