A Closed Heart by Oster, Camille (guided reading books TXT) 📗

loves you a great deal,” she finally said. The orphan in her wanted to communicate that.

Diligently, she started drawing, the boy curiously watching her, while trying to not think of the boy’s situation. His mother had left and his father was distant. Although her circumstances were different, it was an ache she knew well.

But before she could finish, they heard someone calling for him and he grew concerned. There was such an eagerness to please in him, and she knew that sentiment well too. It was a sentiment of uncertainty. He looked back at her as if he didn’t know what to do. “Go,” she said. “We can finish this later.”

Rising, the boy ran out of the room to go find his nursemaid. Julius had said something about a tutor coming for him, which would be good, but what he really needed was his father. Strangers couldn’t replace that, even really nice and helpful ones. Children wanted their parents. She knew this if she knew anything.

Putting her things to side, she went in search of Julius and found him in his study. How could she have this conversation? This wasn’t her place, but she found she had to speak, even if he didn’t appreciate the interference.

“I just saw your lovely boy,” she started.

“He shouldn’t be running around the house.”

“Well, sometimes they need to be explorers.”

“Are you ready to go to the folly?” Julius asked.

“Yes. It’s coming up to midday. Do you wish to eat first?” A discomfort flared through her because the conversation was slipping away. “I think he needs more of your time,” she stated blatantly. “I just know children need their parents.”

“I am here all day, every day.”

“And his mother is not. He’s very confused about that.”

“I’m afraid I have to sway over his mother and her failures as a parent.”

“Which means you have to make extra effort. I’ve seen very clearly how children long for their parents. It harms them growing up without them, or not having enough of them.”

“Or they become stronger for it. You are one of the strongest women I know.”

“Yes, but I would still trade in everything I have to spend more time with my father. My mother, I don’t even remember. Missing them never goes away. There seems to be a natural process when we become youths in that we choose to move away from our parents, in association and in spirit, but us who have been deprived, don’t seem to get there. We’re thwarted.”

“I hope you’re not suggesting I’m mistreating my boy,” Julius said with a warning in his voice.

“No, I’m just saying that you need to make up for his mother being absent by giving more. I fully understand that your actions are in a desire to ultimately protect him, but that strength needs to come when he’s ready, because I think he’s misreading your stoicism.”

“Has he said anything to you?” Julius asked, finally looking a little concerned.

“No, but I can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t feel like he belongs here.”

Julius’ eyebrows creased together, and Jane was pleased, because she’d made her point, and a screaming match hadn’t ensued. Previously, he’d been very unwelcoming of discussions about his son, but she hoped she’d conveyed her concerns. “Lunch does sound like a good idea,” she said, changing the topic before he grew upset or defensive. “A quick bite before our session. The painting is coming along nicely.”

“Will you finally show it to me, then?”

“No, it’s not ready to be seen yet,” she replied. Clients didn’t always understand what they were looking at when they saw a half-finished painting. It even made them doubt when it was entirely unnecessary. “You will just have to wait, I’m afraid.”

*

Now it was hard for her to not paint him as she saw him—as a lover saw him. This whole affair made her understand some paintings in the galleries even more. The desire she perceived in them had made her uncomfortable, but she understood it better now.

Although she’d stated that she hadn’t been chaste when she’d arrived here, it was true to say she hadn’t really embraced and explored her own desire to any extent. This was the first time she’d let it run for more than a brief encounter. It was true that she had been very reserved when it came down to it, and had walked away every time.

Luckily, the eyes were largely done, so she didn’t have to paint them as smoldering with desire, which was how she perceived them. It still sent a thrill down her body to think of it. Instead, she focused on his lips, and she felt it was perfectly acceptable that she made them as sensual as she perceived them. They were so utterly kissable, and maybe the women who viewed this portrait would see it too.

As it was, she had to focus on the actual painting, because he could be very distracting when he chose to be, and it seemed they had both embraced being distracted several times a day. Surely this wasn’t normal, but she didn’t want to hold herself back either.

Granted, she needed to not lose herself in this. This was fleeting. It was temporary. The time would come when the painting was finished and she needed to go. No lingering, avoiding or delaying could be acceptable. When it was finished, she needed to go.

Until such time, she was going to enjoy every single moment. Made even sweeter by knowing this was finite.

Chapter 25

WHY DID IT FEEL SO strange packing her things? It felt awkward somehow, as if they were parting company with some discomfort, which wasn’t true at all. The portrait was done. It was a fine one—maybe even one of her best. Julius was very happy with it. So why was she feeling such discomfort now as she carefully