Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
She smiled, warm and friendly, despite a distinct look of sadness written in the wrinkles around her dark eyes. “Welcome. I’ll be your personal maid during your stay with us. If you need anything, just ask for me. I’m Renee.”
“So you’re the one who put all the good soaps and things in the bathroom?”
“Yes, ma’am. I also took the liberty of ordering some more clothing items in your sizes. Of course, Mr. Sinclair assisted me in choosing for you.”
I frowned. The thought of Vinemont choosing my clothes was beyond irritating. I wasn’t his pet or a doll he could dress. I was a prisoner.
She folded her hands in front of her. “I know how you feel. It’s all more than a little off-putting, but things will fall together in time.”
I pulled the towel from my head and rubbed my temple with one hand, the other still holding up the blanket. “You know how I feel? Are you a slave, Renee?”
Her deep brown eyes lit for just a hint of a moment. “I am not, ma’am.”
“Then I don’t think you could possibly know how I feel. No offense.”
“None taken, ma’am.” Her gracious smile returned despite my barb.
I sighed. I’d been an Acquisition for less than a day and parts of me—the kind ones, the gentle ones—were already splintering. “I’m sorry,” I said as she retreated to my bathroom. “This isn’t your fault.”
I was the one who signed the contract. Renee didn’t force me into it.
She came back with a brush and sat down on the bed next to me. “Here.” She put her hands out, offering to brush my hair.
I scooted around to her, still keeping the blanket pressed to my chest.
“It’s fine. I’d be more surprised if you weren’t angry.” She started at the ends of my hair just like my mother used to do. “The path of least resistance” Mom used to call it, working out the kinks from the bottom up until my hair was smooth.
“How many of me have there been?”
She kept brushing with careful strokes. “How many Acquisitions?”
“Yes.”
“I’m not sure if I’m supposed to say.”
I sighed and let my chin fall to my chest.
She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Two that I know of in the Vinemont family in the past twenty years. There were more before that, but I don’t know all the details.”
“So few? It isn’t an annual sort of thing?”
“No, ma’am.”
“You said ‘in the Vinemont family’? Are there Acquisitions in other families or something?”
“Yes.”
“But why? What’s the purpose?” Why would they do this? What could possibly be the reason for enslaving people just for the sake of enslaving them? Maybe that would be the best outcome—a kept slave for a year. No labor, no punishments, no ill treatment. I shook my head. It was all too good to be true. Fear crept up my spine as my question lingered in the air. Something told me there was more, far more to all of it than I could even guess.
“Just tell me why.” My tone had gone from curious to desperate.
She hesitated, the brush in the middle of my locks. “You’ll see tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?” Dread settled like an anchor in my gut.
The brush continued, smoothing the waves as it went. “The Acquisition Ball.”
Lucius and Vinemont had spoken about a ball over breakfast, but I hadn’t realized I would be going.
“A ball? I’m a slave and I’m going to a ball?”
“I really can’t say any more.”
My mind was whirling. What was this ball? Was it the actual reason, however twisted, for Vinemont to have forced me into the contract?
She reached the crown of my head, still easing the bristles down through the strands. “There, I think we’re done.”
She rose and then stopped, noticing the photo of my mother and me on my nightstand. “She’s beautiful.”
I nodded. “She was.”
“Your mother?”
“Yes.” I studied the picture right along with Renee. I’d been trying for years to divine what she was thinking, why she would leave my father and me the way she did. I supposed I shouldn’t have looked too hard, especially given that I’d done the same thing. I just didn’t see it all the way through the way she had.
“I’m sorry.” Renee put a comforting hand on my shoulder.
She gave me a light squeeze and returned the brush to the bathroom. “I’ll have Laura bring your lunch in fifteen minutes if that’s all right. Or you can take it downstairs with Mr. Sinclair and Mr. Luciu—”
“Here is fine.” The thought of having to see either of them in the same dining room turned my stomach.
She gave a slight bow and left. I dressed in a t-shirt and some pajama bottoms and sank down on the window seat, letting the sun bathe me in afternoon light. The trees were starting to give away their leaves, a brown and orange carpet amassing at the edges of the grass expanse. I pushed the window open and let the cool breeze rush into the room. It carried the smells of grass and woods and water.