Family.
It was such a foreign concept to her. So foreign that it had taken three people to tell her for the impact to hit: first Sophia, then Penny yesterday and now Elias. That Mrs. Shaw was undoubtedly a relative of hers, even if it was by marriage, was just beginning to crystallize. And that Mrs. Shaw had an interest in the arts…well, there was a slim possibility that they might actually get along. ‘There is hardly anything about her that would be deemed orthodox’, the letter had stated. Irene felt the pit in her stomach swirl uncomfortably. Those employed always spoke well of their superiors; was Mr. Wilson to be relied upon to tell the truth about Mrs. Shaw?
Her throat felt tight at the prospect that Mrs. Shaw might not be as accommodating as her lawyer said. Could she be bitter that she didn’t receive such an inheritance? It sounded as if she was quite comfortable herself, but if Irene learned anything by portraiture for the higher classes it was that financial security was never a guarantee to someone’s disposition.
The pressure of Elias’ hands on her shoulders brought her out of her worries, and she inhaled sharply her gaze moving from the letter in her hands to staring directly at him. Him, Soph, and Penny had — without hesitation, without question — all bolstered her confidence, and this sudden contact with Elias seemed to push her over the edge. Irene’s expression crumpled for just a second before she tried to compose herself. But instead, something caught her eye, and without thinking, she reached out a hand to gently brush a streak of dirt away from the edge of his jaw. There was no need to hear the rest of his sentence. “Thank you, I will...” She nodded, finding herself latched in his gaze and she almost rested her palm on the side of his cheek.
“Elias, there’s something else that I wanted to —”
Before she could realize what she was about to do, a sound split through the air and Irene jerked her hand away from his skin as if she was scalded.
It was such a foreign concept to her. So foreign that it had taken three people to tell her for the impact to hit: first Sophia, then Penny yesterday and now Elias. That Mrs. Shaw was undoubtedly a relative of hers, even if it was by marriage, was just beginning to crystallize. And that Mrs. Shaw had an interest in the arts…well, there was a slim possibility that they might actually get along. ‘There is hardly anything about her that would be deemed orthodox’, the letter had stated. Irene felt the pit in her stomach swirl uncomfortably. Those employed always spoke well of their superiors; was Mr. Wilson to be relied upon to tell the truth about Mrs. Shaw?
Her throat felt tight at the prospect that Mrs. Shaw might not be as accommodating as her lawyer said. Could she be bitter that she didn’t receive such an inheritance? It sounded as if she was quite comfortable herself, but if Irene learned anything by portraiture for the higher classes it was that financial security was never a guarantee to someone’s disposition.
The pressure of Elias’ hands on her shoulders brought her out of her worries, and she inhaled sharply her gaze moving from the letter in her hands to staring directly at him. Him, Soph, and Penny had — without hesitation, without question — all bolstered her confidence, and this sudden contact with Elias seemed to push her over the edge. Irene’s expression crumpled for just a second before she tried to compose herself. But instead, something caught her eye, and without thinking, she reached out a hand to gently brush a streak of dirt away from the edge of his jaw. There was no need to hear the rest of his sentence. “Thank you, I will...” She nodded, finding herself latched in his gaze and she almost rested her palm on the side of his cheek.
“Elias, there’s something else that I wanted to —”
Before she could realize what she was about to do, a sound split through the air and Irene jerked her hand away from his skin as if she was scalded.
![[Image: 9EDhNw4.png]](https://i.imgur.com/9EDhNw4.png)