Chapter 2 Wren #2
After I clean up breakfast, I check to make sure no one is in the parlor, and when the coast is clear, I decide to work on my piano skills for a few hours.
With Ivan staying here, I’ve been trying my best to avoid run-ins with him.
I never know what to say to him, and he makes my skin crawl.
I’d bring it up to my brother, but years ago, when I told him I found Carlos creepy, he told me that I was being rude and that there was nothing wrong with him.
He informed me that I couldn’t listen to what I believed to be my gut instinct.
Ever since then, I assumed my instincts were off and just kept my mouth shut.
Carlos had never touched me or hurt me, so Robert was probably right. Maybe he was right about Ivan, too.
“That’s beautiful, Wren,” Robert says, surprising me as my hands jerk off the keys, bringing the tune to an abrupt halt. He winces but moves closer, leaning on the edge of the piano.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said this morning,” he says, and my ears perk up eagerly.
“Which part?” I ask nervously.
“I’ve arranged for you to have dinner with Ivan tonight.”
I can’t stop my nose from wrinkling in distaste as I frown at him. “Ivan? Why?”
“He’s interested in courting you.”
Dread pools in my belly. “But he’s even older than you! He could be my father.”
“Wren! Don’t be so disrespectful.”
“Well, it’s true,” I mutter quietly, unable to stop the disdain from filling my face.
“Age is just a number. Besides, he told me he really likes you, and I think you’d be great together. He’s a very powerful man, and he can take care of you.”
A chill goes down my spine at the thought of Ivan taking care of me. “Are you trying to get rid of me?” I ask, my gaze lifting to meet his. Is that what this is all about? Is he tired of taking care of me? “Because I can move out if you don’t want me here.”
“No. Wren, of course not.” He moves to sit on the piano bench beside me, taking my hands and holding them between his as he continues.
“It’s not about getting rid of you at all.
I’d be happy for you to live with me forever.
You are not a burden to me, not at all. But I want you to have a full life with a family of your own.
I think Ivan can make that happen for you. ”
“But I don’t like him like that.”
“You’ll learn to.” He pats my hands then stands, as if the conversation is over.
“I don’t get any say in it?” I ask in disbelief as he turns to leave.
He sighs, looking back at me with disappointment shining in his eyes, and making my stomach clench with the knowledge that I put it there.
“Wren, you know you don’t have the best track record of reading people. Let me decide for you, just like I’ve always done.” With that, he strolls out of the room, leaving me frowning at his back.
Something about what he said rubs me the wrong way. I mean… it's true. He makes all my decisions for me, especially about who I associate with, which has been pretty much nobody since my only friend ghosted me. Is that what he meant by my bad track record?
I spend the rest of the day doing some of my usual activities: studying languages, ballet, and cleaning. In the afternoon, Robert finds me taking a small rest in the back garden.
“Here you are, it’s four p.m. Why aren’t you working on dinner?”
“Dinner?” I ask in confusion. “I thought you said I’m going out with Ivan for dinner tonight?”
He stops right in front of where I’m sitting on the swing bench and smiles down at me as he shakes his head. “Oh, Wren, at least you have your looks.”
What the heck was that supposed to mean?
He sighs before turning to look out at our manicured lawn. “I said you were having dinner with him, I didn’t say anything about going out.”
The only good part about dinner with Ivan was that I thought I was going to leave the house for a change.
“So I’m supposed to cook?” I ask, remembering what he said when he first came out here.
“Did you expect me not to eat?”
I press my lips together to keep myself from telling him to figure out his own dinner for once. Not only do I have to cook for him and Ivan, which is nothing new, but I have to spend alone time with Ivan as well?
“Can I at least eat the same thing as you guys today? Considering it’s a special day for me?”
“You know you need to eat your vegetables. Why don’t you make us beef wellington, and as a treat, you can have salmon with vegetables and a small amount of rice on the side instead of salad for a change?”
I just nod, trying, unsuccessfully, not to let my disappointment show through.
He’s totally forgotten what day it is.
When I finish making dinner, I serve Robert his in the dining room, and he instructs me to take Ivan and my plates to one of our formal rooms where Ivan is expecting me.
Once there, I see someone has placed a small dining table in the middle and set it up to look romantic, with a tablecloth, candles, sparkling silverware, and two chairs.
Ivan already occupies one.
When he sees me enter, he smiles, standing as he waits for me to set our plates down. When I move to take a seat, he grabs my hand, stopping me, and lifts it to his mouth to kiss the back of my palm.
I manage to hide my revulsion from his lips touching me, solidifying in my mind that there could never be anything romantic between us.
“Please, my dear, take a seat,” he says, moving around to pull out my chair. At least he has manners.
Once we’re both seated, I start eating, unsure what to say to this man or what he expects from me. I think about how Robert taught me to speak at the dinner table, and my upbringing forces me to talk to him.
“How was your day?”
His eyes light up as if he’s pleased with the question. And for once, someone’s approval doesn’t do anything for me. I kind of hate it.
“It was long, lots of meetings. But it’s much better now, thanks to present company.”
I try to offer him a smile, but it feels fake… because it is.
When I don’t say anything, he speaks. “Your brother tells me that you’ve never dated anyone before. Is that true?”
I nod my head and swallow before responding. “Yes, that’s correct. I’m not allowed.”
“You’ve never been romantically involved with anyone? Even someone he might not know about? A pool boy, perhaps? Maybe you got a little too close to one of your guards?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.
I pull my head back in shock. “Of course not!”
“I promise anything you tell me will be kept a secret; I wouldn’t betray your trust by telling your brother.”
I shake my head adamantly, not that I trust his word in the slightest. “There’s been no one,” I tell him honestly.
His eyes hold mine for a moment as if he’s seeking the truth there. Finally, he nods, seeming to believe me.
“Besides, it’s not like I could do anything before I’m married anyway,” I add, more to myself than anything. I think about that woman, Lily, I saw in the kitchen this morning. Robert couldn’t have been sleeping with her.
“Why not?” Ivan asks, confusing me for a second until I remember what I had just said out loud.
“Because it’s against the law.” I frown at him before it hits me. “Is it different in Russia?”
He studies me a moment before nodding. “Yes, in my country, you are allowed to have sex before marriage.”
“Oh.” I turn back to my food. That’s interesting.
I wonder if most other countries are like us or like Russia?
It seemed like a strange law to me anyway.
Did people actually go to jail for having sex?
I frown, thinking how stupid that sounds.
When Robert told me, I was only twelve, and the thought of sex was gross.
But now… well, there’s nobody in my life I’d consider doing that with, at least not anyone I’ve met in person.
The rest of the dinner goes by with more questions from Ivan that I answer as swiftly as possible, and as soon as he’s finished eating, I excuse myself to clean the dishes.
He just laughs and says goodnight as I scurry from the room, thankful I’m not required to spend any more of my evening with him.
I rush through the dishes, knowing there’s an envelope burning a hole in my pocket that I’m incredibly anxious to get to. It arrived while I was preparing dinner.
When I finally get myself locked in my room and ready for bed, I rip open the envelope and pull out the four pages, skimming them to make sure all four names are there, and a sigh of relief hits me when I see them all.
Picking up Sly’s note first, I read the first line, and tears start to well up in my eyes.
To my little bird,
Happy 26th Birthday. I hope your day is brighter for knowing I’m thinking of you from behind these walls.
I grab a tissue and wipe my nose, clutching the letter to my chest.
They remembered.
Even my own brother, who’s raised me, forgot my birthday, not that it mattered since he hadn’t celebrated it once since my parents passed away.
And here, these four men, whom I’ve never met and have never met me, are sending me letters filled with birthday greetings and kind words. If only they weren’t stuck in prison for the rest of their lives.