“Philip, after we’re married, are you still going to take care of Viola like this?
Hearing her mention marriage for the first time, Philip’s heart settled. He bent down to meet her gaze, his dark eyes–capable of drowning you–softened by a subtle smile.
“No jealousy, and no tantrums. Be good.”
“All right.”
Celeste nodded.
She wouldn’t be jealous, nor would she make a scene–never again.
She hadn’t even made it back to her hotel when the phone rang unexpectedly. The call was from the old family estate: the patriarch wanted Philip to bring Celeste home for a family dinner.
Ever since Nova International had been founded, Philip’s status in the Robertson family had soared. His father, who once refused to acknowledge him, now played the part of the doting parent, always boasting to friends that Philip was his most accomplished son.
But every family gathering was a trap for Celeste, a banquet where she knew she wasn’t welcome. The Robertsons didn’t know who she really was–just assumed she was some unwanted orphan.
“Philip, I’m a little nervous. Do you think your grandfather and uncle and aunt won’t like me?” Viola sat in the passenger seat, cheeks flushed, glancing at Philip as he
drove.
Philip never brought his assistant to these dinners. He didn’t answer, just glanced in the rearview mirror at Celeste, who insisted on sitting in the back. His lips pressed into a thin line.
Stubborn girl, still sulking. She’d flat–out refused to sit beside him up front. All because he was bringing Viola along to the family estate. Did she really expect them to leave Viola home alone? Besides, Viola was ill.
The atmosphere in the car was awkward. Viola, by contrast, acted as if nothing were wrong–occasionally turning to chat with Celeste, who didn’t respond.
15:05
Whenever that happened, Viola would pout and complain to Philip Insten
Celeste couldn’t be bothered to watch their little drama. She simply closed her e to rest. The forty–minute drive passed in a blur–she even drifted off, and when they arrived, she was still groggy.
“If you didn’t want to come, you could’ve told me,” Philip scolded in a low voice as she stepped out, his gaze tinged with annoyance. “This is the Robertson family–don’t throw a fit here.”
Ever since she’d withdrawn from the public eye, Philip had rarely brought her to family functions. She’d always thought he did it to protect her, to spare her the ordeal of socializing. It had never occurred to her that maybe he was just embarrassed about her background.
“Mr. Philip, you’re back. And this is…?” The butler greeted them with practiced politeness, his eyes darting between Celeste and Viola, his expression unreadable.
“Hello, I’m Philip’s friend. Sorry to intrude,” Viola said sweetly, sliding her arm through Philip’s for good measure.
The butler nodded, understanding all too well. He shot Celeste a look of pity and motioned for them to follow.
“Mr. Robertson and your father are waiting for you in the study. Mrs. Robertson is in the parlor.”
Viola’s eyes shimmered with excitement as she gazed up at the grand old manor. Someday, she thought, all of this would be hers.
“Celeste, let’s go in–let’s not keep your grandfather and uncle and aunt waiting.” She tugged Philip along, all traces of her supposed nervousness vanished.
Celeste watched them walk ahead, arm in arm, and for a moment she wanted nothing more than to turn and leave. But there was still unfinished business, and this wasn’t the time to confront Philip. Besides, Abelard had always treated her kindly. He hadn’t been well lately, and she didn’t want to add to the strain with family drama.
Steeling herself, she entered the manor a few minutes late.
She’d barely reached the front hall when Mrs. Robertson’s icy laugh rang out.
“Philip, you really are something. It’s one thing to pick up a stray orphan, but do you have to bring home every waif and stray you find? What do you think this is–a charity?”
15.05
