A Portrait of Loyalty by Roseanna M. White

Author:Roseanna M. White
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2020-09-07T18:30:00+00:00

Lily stared at the photo on the drying rack, not quite able to believe what her eyes told her. The roll of film—one of the ones she’d brought home yesterday—had come from an agent on the Continent, she knew. Strictly routine work, which was why she’d decided to do it this morning after Mama had refused to so much as look at her over the breakfast table.

She couldn’t decide which was worse: the silence she was being greeted with, or the shouting that she’d heard between her parents for an hour after she’d gone to bed. She couldn’t ever recall her parents arguing like that. And because of her.

She’d thought this familiar, thoughtless work would soothe her. Help her forget all the questions the night had raised, all the uncertainty. All the wondering about whether this job of hers that had caused such strife between her parents was really worthwhile.

Oh, how wrong she’d been.

Though it had been over five years since she’d seen her childhood friend, she had no difficulty recognizing Johanna’s lovely face. Her blond hair was coiffed to perfection, her blue eyes—grey in the photo, of course—smiling.

Smiling at a man in a German uniform, whose arm her hand was tucked into.

They were one of half a dozen couples caught in the image, at some sort of event in Berlin. Lily had no idea what it was. She didn’t need to. All she needed to know was that it was Johanna, in Germany, looking happy on the arm of a soldier. Proving even from hundreds of miles away that nothing was simple, and that Lily’s judgment couldn’t be trusted.

She gathered the photos from the two rolls she’d finished and slid them into her bag, along with the undeveloped film. It would be lunchtime at the OB, which meant she wouldn’t likely run into anyone she knew.

Just as she wanted it. She couldn’t bear to look at any of them right now. Not given the note she’d written upon rising that morning, telling the admiral of her intent to resign.

The house was quiet. Ivy was at the school, the maid must be upstairs somewhere, Eaton was polishing the silver. She could have just slipped out. Would have, a week ago. Today she slid to the drawing room door and peeked in.

Mama sat at her easel, moving her brush over a canvas with furious strokes. The light was all wrong in the room. Clouds had rolled in sometime while Lily was in her darkroom. Usually, that’s when Euphemia Blackwell would pack up her paints and shift to another task—a preliminary sketch, perhaps, or a composition study in pastels or watercolors, while she sorted through how best to achieve what she wanted in her actual oil painting.

“Mama?”

No response.

Taking a deep breath, she edged into the room. “Mama, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I . . . I couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing you—which is, of course, exactly what I did by trying to spare you. I see that now.

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