A Lasting Impression

Adelicia and working for her had Sutton seen the woman so quiet. So still. So utterly and thoroughly shocked. He knew the feeling.
    Only the sound of Claire’s voice and an occasional soft cry as she recounted her story marred the otherwise thick and heavy silence. Sutton sensed it took everything she had, but she sat posture perfect, head held erect as she wept.
    He stood slightly behind her, having declined to sit, preferring to be where he could watch them both. As surprised as he’d been to learn what Claire had done, her poise and grace under the pressure of the past two days had impressed him. She’d given deposition after deposition with never a complaint. And with never a differing fact.
    But he knew she’d been dreading this meeting with Adelicia.
    “So let me say again, Mrs. Acklen, how very sorry I am for withholding the truth from you and for placing you in the position that I have. I’m so grateful—” Claire’s voice broke, and a moment passed before she regained control—“for the opportunities you gave me while I was here at Belmont. And for the way you opened your home, and yourself, to me. I wish I could be repaying you with something other than embarrassment and . . . public ridicule.”
    Already, the newspapers had grabbed the story, and of course, since Claire was Adelicia Acklen’s personal liaison, the articles had both captured the front page. The stories were factual, for the most part, and were rife with the terms counterfeit and fake.
    Claire bowed her head, finished with her part. But Adelicia still stared. Sutton wished she’d say something. The silence felt piercing and double-edged, even to him.
    He and Claire had spoken at length about what she’d done but not at all about them. He loved her. He couldn’t deny it and didn’t want to. In that regard, nothing had changed. Inwardly, anyway. Yet they needed time to work through everything.
    But one thing he was certain of—the Claire Laurent he’d grown to love was not the same person who had painted those forgeries. She’d given him a letter containing her thoughts after she’d heard the question so clearly in her mind, though letter wasn’t quite the word for what she’d given him. It was really more of an outpouring of her heart onto the page, an outpouring that gave him deeper insight into her as a person, and an intimate look into her heart. And he treasured both.
    As much as he’d thirsted for vengeance in his own situation, he ached for mercy now in Claire’s. Justice wasn’t as cut-and-dried as he’d once thought, and undeserved mercy held far greater appeal than ever before.
    Adelicia drew in a breath and slowly exhaled. “Miss Laurent . . .”
    Claire lifted her head.
    “When I hired you as my personal liaison, I entrusted you not only with my personal and business affairs, but with my children, my family, my servants, my home, and my reputation. You ate at my table, you slept in my house, you sat beside me in church. Did I, or did I not, tell you that you would become an extension of me? That when people saw you, they would see me. That everything you did would reflect upon me. Does any of that sound familiar to you, Miss Laurent?”
    Sutton knew Adelicia was within her right to speak in such a way to Claire, but a part of him still flinched, wanting to protect Claire. Wanting to defend her.
    “Yes, Mrs. Acklen,” Claire said, her voice soft, laden with respect. “You did, ma’am. And I tarnished that image. I’m deeply sorry.”
    Adelicia rested her hands on the desk, the feminine gesture oddly paired with the steel of her manner. “One thing I have learned in my life is that there are no private mistakes for people who live in the public sphere. Everything we do is subject to criticism. One must learn to live above all that, Miss Laurent . . . even when it cuts so deeply you think the wound will not heal.”
    Sutton detected the slightest waver in Adelicia’s voice at the end, though her countenance denied it.
    “It will heal, Miss Laurent. God himself will soothe the balm over the hurt, if you let Him. You will recover and move on. And you will be stronger for the scar.”
    Sutton knew that people—some of them Adelicia’s peers—were reveling in this embarrassing situation for her. He also knew that, somehow, Adelicia would use it and harness it for the betterment of herself and her estate, just as she always seemed to do.
    “And something you should remember for the future, Miss