Chapter 9

My body hurtas I slowly rolled over to look at the bedside clock.

I'd learned last week that Talia did not wake until nine or later.

The maid had seemed shocked the first time she'd found me at work so early.

Not that I thought seven was early.

Maybe today, I would take it easy. I closed my eyes and tried to find sleep.

My brain kept replaying the tackle last night. That's how I'd labeled it. Weirdly, I couldn't recall much of what he'd said, but the scent of his woodsy musk was fresh in my mind. I liked how his blue eyes gazed into mine and how his muscular body seemed to fit my softer frame.

"Stop," I told myself.

Talia had spent an hour apologizing and explaining that Bredon was only doing his job.

I wasn't upset. Caught off guard—certainly. The guy, Bredon, was certainly intense and spoke in a low, growly way that made the hair on my arms stand up. I did a mental shrug, chalking it up to another weird thing that went on here.

"Don't judge," I whispered the admonishment. Nobody was making me do things I was uncomfortable doing. I didn't know anything about cults or weird religious sects. I did know that the people who lived here were cut off from others and seemed stuck in a modified pioneer time.

I needed to get up. I wasn't good at lazing in bed. Plus, there was work to be done.

The shower helped. I was dressed in a thick turtleneck sweater that hung mid-thigh and jeans. I'd pushed my hair back with a wide hairband and was wearing my shearling-filled boots to help keep my toes warm.

There was a knock on the doorframe.

"Come in." I cringed because I thought my voice was too loud.

"For you, Miss Sage." Agatha entered, carrying a large vase filled with roses. She looked around the room for a place for the ostentatious display.

There wasn't much empty space in the room. The table I used to catalog each photo was covered with boxes and my laptop. "Those might need to go in Talia's sitting room."

Agatha tilted her head to the left in confusion. "They are for you."

"Me, personally?" I'd thought she was trying to make the storage room nicer.

"There is a note." She waited for me to approach and handed the vase to me.

Holy crap on a cracker. It was heavy, and the crystal was etched with swirling designs.

Agatha was moving a box from the shelving unit from my table.

"This vase is beautiful. I think it's an antique."

She took the vase from my hands and placed it on the shelf. She then pulled an envelope from her pocket. "Will there be anything else?"

I took the envelope. "No. Thank you."

I returned to my worktable as she left the room. My fingers shook a little as I tried to open the envelope neatly. I pulled out a single sheet of heavy cream paper.

It read:

My apologies for last night.

Bredon

I returned the note to its envelope and slid it into my jean's back pocket.

A few hours later, Talia joined me. She chose the upholstered chair to my left. "Those are lovely."

I looked up and noted she was looking at the roses. "Where did he find roses around here?"

"We have a hothouse." She got up and walked to the arrangement. "I recognize the vase."

"I think it's an antique." I watched her examine the addition to the room.

"He got it in Ireland on one of his trips."

"Ireland?" I didn't know what to think. It was a very ostentatious gift.

"I remember when he brought it home." She smiled at me.

"I'm sure it's simply a loaner to hold the flowers." My mouth had gone dry.

She turned to me and shook her head. "I think it's more."

I didn't want to discuss this any longer. "That stack." I pointed to the short stack on the side of my desk closest to her chair. "They're good." All her work was good. "But they aren't exceptional."

"Throw them away." She curled her leg under her butt.

"No." I learned that you had to be firm when dealing with artists. "I think there might come a time that they could be useful. You should consider an online storefront."

"I could sell them on the internet?"

"If you ever needed cash quick." I held her gaze. "Working exclusively with galleries and museums keeps your reputation in the upper echelon, but they don't always pay on time."

"Or I might not sell." She nodded slowly.

"I think it's necessary to have a way to make money in case your usual avenues are paused or diminished."

She seemed to be considering my words.

I didn't want to talk about my childhood and early teens. My mother had been taken advantage of by those she'd trusted. She hadn't read her contracts. She'd claimed she didn't want to be bothered with money because she was making art.

"Caring about money makes this too much like a job, my ray of sunshine," Judith would say when I worried we couldn't pay a bill.

"I see your point." Talia halted my memories. "Later, I'd like to hear your ideas on ways to sell."

I'd learned very early that guessing an artist's income was impossible. Some prided themselves on living like a pauper, while others constantly overextended themselves.

"I didn't mean to become too personal," I began. "I do know that many believe that if you show in a gallery, you must be making money. I know better." I noted that she didn't appear angered by my words. "As women, it's important to have savings and access to money we can get to quickly."

"I agree." She twisted and hung her long legs over the arm of the chair. "Throughout history, people have used money to control others."

"Agreed." I felt better learning that she and I were on the same page.

"How are you feeling? Did Bredon hurt you?"

"The shower helped. I'm a little stiff, but I'm fine."

"Good. Please don't hold a grudge against him. Bredon was only doing his job."

"I don't." I felt a smile trying to break free. "I barely know him."

"Something tells me he will be around, so that will change." She flashed a knowing look and then changed subjects. "I'm starving. I wonder what cook made for our lunch?"

At first, I'd been surprised by how much Talia could eat. I had always been on the chunky side, and now, at thirty-two, I needed to watch what I consumed, or my pants got too tight.

"It's close to time; come on." She got to her feet.

"What happens if we're late to a meal?"

"If Sig or Bredon are hanging around, there won't be anything left," she said, starting down the hall.

"Wait." I came to a complete stop. "They eat with us?"

She didn't pause. "Yes. They live in this wing."

Suddenly, I felt my nipples tighten. It had to be the cold. The last thing I needed was the complication of starting something with a man while I was here.