He stared at her. “You don’t remember why?”
She bowed her head and lowered her eyes. He touched her chin to lift her face back up so he could look at her. “Helen, you know I would never want to hurt you.”
“I know, papa.”
“You must learn to trust me when I say that someone is not good enough to be with you.”
It was about a man. She thought, forcing herself not to roll her eyes. Probably the one her grandmother had told her about. “I’m over it.” She wondered if they said things like that in the time she was in and quickly went on as if she didn’t say it in the first place. “I am happy with your decision, papa. I am not thinking about that anymore.”
She could see why Helen was miserable. From what she’d seen of the men at the ball, she wasn’t highly impressed. Their behavior had not been chivalrous and kind. It had been wild and unruly. The only man she’d truly been impressed with was her cousin.
“I’m so glad to hear that, Helen. I am glad you want to talk to me again. I am glad you are happier now.”
“Thank you, papa.”
He grabbed her and pulled her into another hug. “I want you to be happy, my girl. I really do. But you must find a man who is worthy of your love. You know I will not force you to marry an Earl or a Duke. We don’t need the money. You aren’t desperate for love. You will find the right man.”
“Yes, papa.”
“Now you get some rest, and we’ll talk in the morning.” He stood up and moved toward the door.
“Papa?” She stopped him.
“Yes?” He looked back at her.
“I…I love you.” She was actually speaking to her own father, whom she had loved dearly. She just wanted to say it again, knowing it was all right.
He smiled a genuine smile that reached up and into his eyes. He sighed. She instantly knew that was where she had eventually gotten her own habit of sighing heavily. “I love you, too, Helen. I really do. Talk to you in the morning.”
“Okay, papa.” She replied, thinking that she would not be seeing him again. It weighed heavily on her heart. She watched him walk out the door. He waved slightly before pulling the door closed behind him.
She looked back at the bed and couldn’t resist crawling up onto the top quilt, laying her head down on the pillow and relaxing for a moment. Seconds later, she was fast asleep.
When she woke up the house was quiet. She didn’t remember where she was at first and sat up abruptly, staring around her. When she remembered, she relaxed and tried to focus her eyes in the dim light. There must have been a gas lamp left on outside the house, because some kind of light was coming through her window. She slid out of the bed and opened the thin curtains to peer out over the lands surrounding the house. Back home, there were neighbors all around. Here, there was nothing but green grass and rolling hills as far as she could see.
She could see well enough to pick up a candleholder and matches on her bedside table. She lit the candle, picked the holder up by its handle and moved to the door. She wanted to go back to the attic and take off the dress, hoping that would send her back home. As long as she had the dress and the painting, she was sure it would work.
She moved through the quiet house on silent stocking feet. She hadn’t come in the shoes, so she figured she didn’t need them to get back home.
Back in the attic, she went directly to the spot where she had put on the dress, stood in front of the trunk where it had been stored and reached up behind her to unfasten the ties. Before she could pull one string, she stopped.
There was no painting here.
Chapter Four
Eve’s heart sank. Maybe it was hanging in the house somewhere. Could she possibly find it in the dark? She thought about how big the house was. It would probably take longer than she had even if she ran all around the house.
“What am I going to do?” She whispered in a panic. “Oh, what am I going to do?”
She picked up the candle and went back to the stairwell in a hurry. She was going to go through as many rooms as she could tonight. But what if it was hanging in her parents’ room? How would she even know?
She hurried through the hallways, stopping at each portrait long enough to lift the candle and take a good look. After an hour, she had still not seen the painting, and there were many other rooms left to go through. She tried not to cry. She wanted to go home. She missed her grandmother.
She had no choice. She went back to her room, collapsed on the big bed and cried herself back to sleep.