Read Online The Art of Love: Origins of Sinner's Grove by A.B. Michaels - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: A.B. Michaels
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said. “A lot of water can flow by in a dozen years. And so you’re stuck with a satyr and a libertine who’s three times your weight and more than twice your age. How you’ve stood him—”
“Stop right there,” Emma said, holding up her hand. “Hiram may be all of those things, but at heart he is a good man. He has provided well for me and cared for me, despite the fact that I have not upheld my part of the bargain.”
“Your part of the bargain?”
“Yes.” Emma sat up straighter as if ready to face a firing squad and wanting others to view her with dignity rather than pity. “He wanted children and I couldn’t give them to him…despite many attempts on our part to conceive.”
Lia felt her face redden; that was one aspect of Em’s situation she’d never wanted to contemplate. Yet it would be part of her own future as well. “I don’t know about that. All I know is you should never have had to marry the man.”
“I…I see it a bit differently,” Emma countered. “In a way, things worked out for the best. George is the last of his line. He needs to produce an heir. If we had married, I wouldn’t have been able to do that for him and eventually it may well have torn us apart.”
“You don’t know that,” Lia argued. “And for that matter, I might be as barren as you.” The moment she said the words, she gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Em. That came out wrong. I—”
“No, it’s all right. We’re speaking the truth here, aren’t we? I am barren, but the chance that you suffer the same malady is miniscule. I’m glad George now has a chance to have a family…and you too. I am glad for you both. Truly I am.” With those words Emma rose gracefully from the sofa and gathered her belongings. “It’s too late for me, Lia, but it’s not too late for you. George is an exceptional man and he will make you happy if you only let him. I am sure of it.”
After Emma left, Lia took one of her many sketch pads and a pencil, and sat by the picture window of her sitting room. The sun had set and the grounds outside the window were shrouded in a milky, purple hue. The loss of light didn’t matter, because what Lia longed to capture on paper originated in her mind, not in the world at large. Yet it was no less real for all that. It was a vision of Emma, contemplating a life that was so much less than she had hoped for, accepting the imperfection of what was.
Lia began to sketch rapidly, as if an unseen hand were guiding her own. She let it move of its own volition while she contemplated her own situation. In her heart, Lia knew that her sister was putting the best possible face on a horrible situation. Em had sacrificed for the family, but in Em’s mind, Lia was making no sacrifice at all. Of course she’d feel that way; she’s in love with the man . But this was not the Middle Ages when love was a luxury no one could afford. In four short years the world would be entering a brand new century. Brand new! No more clinging to outdated traditions, no more obedience to the status quo. Lia examined her sketch and saw that she had indeed captured her sister’s pain. But it didn’t have to be that way. No one would be holding a gun to Lia’s or George’s head either. All it required to solve this problem was for common sense to prevail. She’d known George all her life and he’d always seemed both smart and level-headed. Surely he also had common sense in abundance. She would appeal to that aspect of his nature tomorrow, because time was running out.
CHAPTER NINE
“I ’m here to see Mr. George Powell…the younger.” Lia stood in front of the executive secretary at Powell Industries headquarters in lower Manhattan.
The secretary looked down at her appointment book. “Miss Bennett, is it? I don’t seem to have you down on Mr. Powell’s schedule.”
“Tell him it’s rather important that his…fiancée…see him immediately.” Lia began tapping her foot, but the sound was muted by the
“Stop right there,” Emma said, holding up her hand. “Hiram may be all of those things, but at heart he is a good man. He has provided well for me and cared for me, despite the fact that I have not upheld my part of the bargain.”
“Your part of the bargain?”
“Yes.” Emma sat up straighter as if ready to face a firing squad and wanting others to view her with dignity rather than pity. “He wanted children and I couldn’t give them to him…despite many attempts on our part to conceive.”
Lia felt her face redden; that was one aspect of Em’s situation she’d never wanted to contemplate. Yet it would be part of her own future as well. “I don’t know about that. All I know is you should never have had to marry the man.”
“I…I see it a bit differently,” Emma countered. “In a way, things worked out for the best. George is the last of his line. He needs to produce an heir. If we had married, I wouldn’t have been able to do that for him and eventually it may well have torn us apart.”
“You don’t know that,” Lia argued. “And for that matter, I might be as barren as you.” The moment she said the words, she gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Em. That came out wrong. I—”
“No, it’s all right. We’re speaking the truth here, aren’t we? I am barren, but the chance that you suffer the same malady is miniscule. I’m glad George now has a chance to have a family…and you too. I am glad for you both. Truly I am.” With those words Emma rose gracefully from the sofa and gathered her belongings. “It’s too late for me, Lia, but it’s not too late for you. George is an exceptional man and he will make you happy if you only let him. I am sure of it.”
After Emma left, Lia took one of her many sketch pads and a pencil, and sat by the picture window of her sitting room. The sun had set and the grounds outside the window were shrouded in a milky, purple hue. The loss of light didn’t matter, because what Lia longed to capture on paper originated in her mind, not in the world at large. Yet it was no less real for all that. It was a vision of Emma, contemplating a life that was so much less than she had hoped for, accepting the imperfection of what was.
Lia began to sketch rapidly, as if an unseen hand were guiding her own. She let it move of its own volition while she contemplated her own situation. In her heart, Lia knew that her sister was putting the best possible face on a horrible situation. Em had sacrificed for the family, but in Em’s mind, Lia was making no sacrifice at all. Of course she’d feel that way; she’s in love with the man . But this was not the Middle Ages when love was a luxury no one could afford. In four short years the world would be entering a brand new century. Brand new! No more clinging to outdated traditions, no more obedience to the status quo. Lia examined her sketch and saw that she had indeed captured her sister’s pain. But it didn’t have to be that way. No one would be holding a gun to Lia’s or George’s head either. All it required to solve this problem was for common sense to prevail. She’d known George all her life and he’d always seemed both smart and level-headed. Surely he also had common sense in abundance. She would appeal to that aspect of his nature tomorrow, because time was running out.
CHAPTER NINE
“I ’m here to see Mr. George Powell…the younger.” Lia stood in front of the executive secretary at Powell Industries headquarters in lower Manhattan.
The secretary looked down at her appointment book. “Miss Bennett, is it? I don’t seem to have you down on Mr. Powell’s schedule.”
“Tell him it’s rather important that his…fiancée…see him immediately.” Lia began tapping her foot, but the sound was muted by the
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