There is no perfect love. Sometimes it comes with lies and betrayals...because lies are some of the most powerful forms of betrayal.
LIES...
BETRAYALS...
LOVE.
This is how betrayal sta...
"I love you not only for what you are but for what I am when I'm with you."
1805 (London) - The Foundation of Branson Empire and the Hidden Pact (Part I)
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Third-Person Point of View
The wrought-iron gate leading to Thomas' brick mansion stood ajar. In Isla Greer's present mood, it wouldn't have mattered if the gate was padlocked. She would have found a way through it.
She continued up the flagstone path that was slick from rain. The newspaper strips she had tucked inside her worn shoes had disintegrated into squishy clumps during the two-hour walk from the walls of Thomas's vast land. The numbing chill that seeped through to her feet added to her discomfort.
She was hired as the new aide or servant to the only child of Meredith and Antonio Thomas. Her name was Olivia Thomas. She heard that she was about her age, a quiet one, well-mannered, intelligent, and courteous. Her mother, Irenea, forgot to describe her physical attributes. She didn't mind anyways.
Isla sensed more than saw the dark blur that streaked past her. Before her startled eyes, a shadow materialized from the damp mist shrouding the front porch of the three-story residence.
She pressed a palm to her racing heart. "Good grief, what are you doing here?" The less-than-cordial question was directed at the huge, hairy hound now blocking the doorway. "You followed me, didn't you?" As if the creature could answer her back.
Without a flicker of apology, the dog's steady gaze met hers.
"And you raced ahead at the last moment to beat me here. I should have known it was a mistake to feed you."
Clearly, it had been a mistake to give the dog table scraps when she stopped by a small bakery far far away from here to rest for a while.
Isla continued to walk up the stone path. Shrewd intelligence gleamed back at her from the disreputable mutt's black eyes. Obviously, the motley beast had decided it could count upon her as a source of food.
"You've followed me in vain," She told him in no uncertain terms. "I have no food with me. That's why I'm here, to work so we can have food on our table."
She gingerly maneuvered herself around him on the porch. She drew her damp cloak more closely about her and steeled herself against the reproach she detected in his unwavering canine regard.
After all, one could hardly be expected to remember such minor details as feeding a stray animal when one's world came crashing about one's shoulders. From the dog's point of view, though, she supposed being fed was a matter of huge importance.
"I'm sorry." She sighed, unable to endure this added burden of guilt. "I should have thought to bring you something to eat. Just go away for now, and let me conduct my business here without any interruptions." Guilt weighed more heavily upon her. "I promise to bring you food when I get back." Which is impossible to do right away. She believed she would stay here for months... or possibly years as a servant to Miss Thomas.
