He Dropped Three Women in One Night, Then We Took His Estate novel · Chapter 7 of 32

Chapter 7: The Portrait

Calista went up to Voltraine Hall by the front drive, at three in the afternoon, in the hour the Dowager took her tea.

She had told the household she was going for her mother's portrait.

She had not told them she was frightened.

The footman who opened the door looked at his boots.

"Is the Dowager in the blue room?" Calista asked.

"Yes, my lady. That is, madam. I don't know what to say."

"Then say nothing, and I will announce myself."

She crossed the great hall where she had counted silver three nights before.

In the blue room a fire burned and a tea service sat on a low table.

Hildegarde Voltraine sat with her cane across her knees, straight as a rod, in black silk.

She was pouring a cup of tea.

She did not look up.

"Calista," the Dowager said. "You are not expected."

"I've come for my mother's portrait."

"Sit," the Dowager said.

"I'd rather stand."

"You will sit, or you will have nothing to take." The old woman set the pot down. "I would not like to have to call the footmen."

Calista sat.

She hated that she sat.

She did it anyway, because the portrait hung in the long gallery and this woman stood between her and it.

"You were always so blunt." The Dowager poured a second cup and put it by Calista's knee. "I used to tell my son it was the only honest thing about the match."

"You told me I had my mother's hands," said Calista. "You meant it as an insult. You called them mill hands."

"They were. They are."

"I'm proud of them," Calista said.

"Of course you are. People are proud of what they can't change."

The Dowager sipped her tea.

Calista studied the old face, the powdered cheek and the pale clear eyes, and thought that she had never seen it tired.

"The portrait," said Calista.

"Is mine. It hangs in my gallery."

"It was my mother's before it was yours. It is named in my settlement."

"It is named in a draft," the Dowager said, "that my son's lawyer has not yet confirmed. The portrait stays until he confirms it."

"The settlement was signed three years ago."

"And dissolved at the ball. By you."

She had learned long ago to say nothing and let the old lady fill the silence.

Something she meant to keep back always slipped out.

"I know why you have come," the Dowager said, after a long moment. "You think someone has wronged you."

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