Chapter 19
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The following day he started early to work. It was the start of the show. Rupert became tensed thinking about the next time he would come face to face with the force of nature called Monique. He knew that his flirting and touches were disturbing his wife to the point that she was a volcano waiting to burst. Given the least interactions that they had during work hours, it was surprising how she affected him even from a distance. If the woman who forced him into this marriage had an inkling of the attraction she would perhaps be scandalized. His body desired for her beyond all logic, beyond every rule or norm. A man is a weakling when it comes to women and Rupert had always indulged his weakness but that weakness had never overpowered him. Rupert decided to hire some escorts to the show. Having soft bodies pinned against his would perhaps allay his throbbing desire for his wife, not to mention throw her over the edge in jealousy.
As Rupert entered the fashion show with top models hanging from both arms his identity as a man became more pronounced to him and he could feel Monique's gaze tearing through his flesh from across the huge room. She was there dressed as a woman should be dressed, flaunting all her curves yet hiding just enough to spike the intrigue of every man in the room. Yes, all eyes lay on the masked vixen eyeing the alpha male of the pack. In defiance, Rupert pulled the women closer to his body and in response, they giggled. Rupert was impervious to the jolly mood they felt. His skin was on fire and his breathing heaved. Henry was there on a different corner of the room wary of Monique's reaction to her first love indulging him in wanton women.
When Henry had asked her so long ago her reason to be with Rishi, she had written him a confusing answer.
"Dear Henry,
I did not run away from my wedding in the hope of a future I may not have. It is true it was impossible for me to enter the relationship with my intended because I love a different man. That said you know the man. I am in love with your brother. You may be laughing your brains out as you read this. I am in love with a man who does not know about my existence and whom I am hardly ever to meet. Yet I love him. I won't say I have never seen him. I have seen him through your eyes, the always righteous, always dutiful man that in my world exists only in myths. I know I have no way to reach him. I, an ignorant Indian girl may never attain the height he has achieved by his own effort. Yet I take inspiration from him to be greater than the station I was born in and I hope that one day I will ultimately gain the stature to stand before him and demand some time for me. It may be a moment of recognition or a moment of fantasy. But I will one day stand before Bert Monnet and he will take my hand in his and ask me my name and I will introduce myself as Monique and he would know just who I am. But for now I need to respect myself and the world fails to respect a woman without a man by her side. Rishi took from me the privilege I wished to give to your Casanova brother: the privilege of being my first. Right now, without gaining heights of excellence I do not feel I have much to offer the man I idolize. I have miles to go before I can stand before him and I require a showpiece on my arms to keep the vultures at bay. So why not Rishi?"
Henry never had the heart to tell her that Rupert wasn't really his brother and had decided not to use their family name after his birth father passed away. What he couldn't tell her was that Rupert changed his name to Mornington on his dying father's wish to carry on his family line. Monique finally had her wish. He had obeyed her in never initiating a meeting between his muse and his brother. Yet they meet. They meet when both are destined to another.
The show started and Monique went backstage. Henry sighed in relief and notices Rupert doing the same. Monique found her veil doubly effective at hiding her tears. Yes, Shimonthini could never be one of the two women Rupert clung to and neither would she try. One by one fashion statements of the year was made. High heel after high heel flooded the ramp to the throbbing of heady music. There was a buzz among the crowds. There was the light from the flash going zap as frame by frame the night was immortalized in Fashion Journals. Brand after Brand came and went and icons after icons contended for the eye of the fashion fanatics. The fashionable women of the upper society giggled in the front row planning the outfit for their next kitty party. Backstage the buzz of a different frequency reigned. The models slipped into dresses that were too short or too long, trying not to trip over or not to flash too much. Everyone was nervous. The showstoppers trembled with excitation. The energy from the auditorium seeped through the dull curtains of the green room. The fresh faces of the fashion week were giggling too much themselves to the tragedy of the makeup artists and the fashion designers. The designers themselves skipped from one model to another fixing a pleat here or a button there. The models formed one line after another as the parade began. The first girl in had the onus of setting the rhythm for the next which was in itself a daunting responsibility. A few hours into the Parade the announcement was finally made. Mornington Enterprises had finally claimed their own in the fashion world and their presentation was the forever elusive Madame M collection. Those familiar with Madame M collection gasped at the feat. Those that belonged to a world devoid of Madame M were intrigued by their fellow fashionistas' reaction. That was when the sound of the Wagner's march began and bride after bride came through the green room curtain. They were brides covered in lace and silk alike. All stood out in pristine whites, crisp reds and vibrant green. Brides from every part of the world, every religion and every culture flooded the ramp till the showstopper stepped on in an Indian style embroidered Elizabethan gown done in crème white with Baby Blue highlights accompanied by a woven lace pink veil. The veil was a work of art in itself and the dress not far behind. It managed to not just end the show but also stop the hearts of the spectators. It was a dress every woman would envy and the petite Indian draped in the dress was none other than Monique.
From his own seat, Rupert smiled at his own success. The night was far from over and he intended to enjoy it to the fullest. The crowd was led to the adjacent room where a ball was arranged, a masquerade ball for the benefactors of the event. Rupert stood among the crowd his arm candies left to mingle on their own. What he needed just then was not their frivolity but Monique's body to soothe his own. The woman of his fancies soon appeared behind him and asked him for a dance. It was so easy yet so difficult to refuse.
The music began and their heartbeats joined to the throbbing of the drums. Rupert was having the time of his life. The woman in his arms was everything he imagined. The grace with which she swayed to the music gave Rupert ideas he would rather not have especially with his wife waiting for him at the hotel in the honeymoon suite. But here she was, the famous designer Monique, the desire of so many men, content and purring, with her gentle breath caressing his shoulders. The temptation in him reared its head to give in to the poison men are most wont to succumb to. Rupert would have cheated on his wife in such a circumstance but she wasn't really his wife. She was a responsibility posed upon him, a responsibility so easy to resist but difficult to refuse. He could not turn his back to the responsibility he had, to the trust he had to conquer in order to conquer a place in the heart of his only living family, a family that had abandoned him for the sake of her own selfish future. Imli had trusted him with the hope that he would be a better man than her father and would be able to overcome the cultural differences that separated Him and his wife. Was he able to? He hadn't seen Shimonthini for a long time. Since the start of the show, he was busy fighting his temptation for the woman now in his arms. Now that she was within his reach Rupert considered self-denial to be his only option.
"What are you doing later tonight?" Monique purred into his ears, baiting him into the infidelity that would prove her fears. Rupert wanted to tell her that he was doing nothing but keeping her company like all other night. But he knew that it was a ploy for him to slip. He was offended at the implication Monique made. Did she really expect him to cheat on her? Did she really not realize that he knew that it was her all along? Rupert was hurt and when he spoke the pain shone through.
"My wife is waiting for me in our room," he said. The word wife sounded so strange to her ensuing from his tongue. It was Rupert who always insisted that their marriage was not legal and that they should wait until both were sure of it.
Monique turned away from him. Whether it was a disappointment or distaste Rupert could not see. He wished to tear off the mask that held her expressions from him. But that was the mystery of the masquerade ball. Monique excused herself and went off in the direction of the exit. Rupert knew what he had to do now but was he ready? He questioned himself.
Tears rolled down Monique's eyes behind the mask that concealed her emotions. Yes her husband was loyal to her. Her husband was loyal to the docile Shimonthini. She could read in his expression the struggle he went through to refuse her. Her husband wanted Monique as well and it was up to her to whether to indulge his desire or his righteousness. Shimonthini was happy that her husband passed her test of loyalty but she was sad that he had chosen a name over a personality, a title over an identity.
While the drama of her life folded within the ballroom floor Henry was being accosted by his younger brother into divulging the whereabouts of the woman who had abandoned him. Henry had half a mind to call security but the bond of blood beckoned him to help. He finally decided to go to the one person who would be interested in Heinrich's plight. Any other situation and Rupert would have refused to meet Heinrich but this particular moment all he needed was a distraction.
Henry had no idea that Rosaline had come to inform her father about walking out of marriage. The news shocked and relieved him to know that at least Rupert managed to find her once. It was just like Rupert to let her go without asking her where and why. If Henry knew his brother he also knew there laid a dossier on her brother's table about the current whereabouts of his daughter. How Rosaline could imagine that Rupert would let her disappear into the unknown Henry wondered. Rupert was controlling at times almost to the point of discomfort. It was his care and concern that oozed through but still, Rupert Mornington was not a laid back man of any sort.
While Rupert evaded Heinrich's questions which he did not wish to share the answers to Shimonthini peeled away the life she did not wish to share with her husband. Her husband had made the choice apparent between Shimonthini and Monique and she had to follow suit. Shimonthini swathed herself in the domesticity that she imagined suited a newly wedded Indian wife.
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The following day he started early to work. It was the start of the show. Rupert became tensed thinking about the next time he would come face to face with the force of nature called Monique. He knew that his flirting and touches were disturbing his wife to the point that she was a volcano waiting to burst. Given the least interactions that they had during work hours, it was surprising how she affected him even from a distance. If the woman who forced him into this marriage had an inkling of the attraction she would perhaps be scandalized. His body desired for her beyond all logic, beyond every rule or norm. A man is a weakling when it comes to women and Rupert had always indulged his weakness but that weakness had never overpowered him. Rupert decided to hire some escorts to the show. Having soft bodies pinned against his would perhaps allay his throbbing desire for his wife, not to mention throw her over the edge in jealousy.
As Rupert entered the fashion show with top models hanging from both arms his identity as a man became more pronounced to him and he could feel Monique's gaze tearing through his flesh from across the huge room. She was there dressed as a woman should be dressed, flaunting all her curves yet hiding just enough to spike the intrigue of every man in the room. Yes, all eyes lay on the masked vixen eyeing the alpha male of the pack. In defiance, Rupert pulled the women closer to his body and in response, they giggled. Rupert was impervious to the jolly mood they felt. His skin was on fire and his breathing heaved. Henry was there on a different corner of the room wary of Monique's reaction to her first love indulging him in wanton women.
When Henry had asked her so long ago her reason to be with Rishi, she had written him a confusing answer.
"Dear Henry,
I did not run away from my wedding in the hope of a future I may not have. It is true it was impossible for me to enter the relationship with my intended because I love a different man. That said you know the man. I am in love with your brother. You may be laughing your brains out as you read this. I am in love with a man who does not know about my existence and whom I am hardly ever to meet. Yet I love him. I won't say I have never seen him. I have seen him through your eyes, the always righteous, always dutiful man that in my world exists only in myths. I know I have no way to reach him. I, an ignorant Indian girl may never attain the height he has achieved by his own effort. Yet I take inspiration from him to be greater than the station I was born in and I hope that one day I will ultimately gain the stature to stand before him and demand some time for me. It may be a moment of recognition or a moment of fantasy. But I will one day stand before Bert Monnet and he will take my hand in his and ask me my name and I will introduce myself as Monique and he would know just who I am. But for now I need to respect myself and the world fails to respect a woman without a man by her side. Rishi took from me the privilege I wished to give to your Casanova brother: the privilege of being my first. Right now, without gaining heights of excellence I do not feel I have much to offer the man I idolize. I have miles to go before I can stand before him and I require a showpiece on my arms to keep the vultures at bay. So why not Rishi?"
Henry never had the heart to tell her that Rupert wasn't really his brother and had decided not to use their family name after his birth father passed away. What he couldn't tell her was that Rupert changed his name to Mornington on his dying father's wish to carry on his family line. Monique finally had her wish. He had obeyed her in never initiating a meeting between his muse and his brother. Yet they meet. They meet when both are destined to another.
The show started and Monique went backstage. Henry sighed in relief and notices Rupert doing the same. Monique found her veil doubly effective at hiding her tears. Yes, Shimonthini could never be one of the two women Rupert clung to and neither would she try. One by one fashion statements of the year was made. High heel after high heel flooded the ramp to the throbbing of heady music. There was a buzz among the crowds. There was the light from the flash going zap as frame by frame the night was immortalized in Fashion Journals. Brand after Brand came and went and icons after icons contended for the eye of the fashion fanatics. The fashionable women of the upper society giggled in the front row planning the outfit for their next kitty party. Backstage the buzz of a different frequency reigned. The models slipped into dresses that were too short or too long, trying not to trip over or not to flash too much. Everyone was nervous. The showstoppers trembled with excitation. The energy from the auditorium seeped through the dull curtains of the green room. The fresh faces of the fashion week were giggling too much themselves to the tragedy of the makeup artists and the fashion designers. The designers themselves skipped from one model to another fixing a pleat here or a button there. The models formed one line after another as the parade began. The first girl in had the onus of setting the rhythm for the next which was in itself a daunting responsibility. A few hours into the Parade the announcement was finally made. Mornington Enterprises had finally claimed their own in the fashion world and their presentation was the forever elusive Madame M collection. Those familiar with Madame M collection gasped at the feat. Those that belonged to a world devoid of Madame M were intrigued by their fellow fashionistas' reaction. That was when the sound of the Wagner's march began and bride after bride came through the green room curtain. They were brides covered in lace and silk alike. All stood out in pristine whites, crisp reds and vibrant green. Brides from every part of the world, every religion and every culture flooded the ramp till the showstopper stepped on in an Indian style embroidered Elizabethan gown done in crème white with Baby Blue highlights accompanied by a woven lace pink veil. The veil was a work of art in itself and the dress not far behind. It managed to not just end the show but also stop the hearts of the spectators. It was a dress every woman would envy and the petite Indian draped in the dress was none other than Monique.
From his own seat, Rupert smiled at his own success. The night was far from over and he intended to enjoy it to the fullest. The crowd was led to the adjacent room where a ball was arranged, a masquerade ball for the benefactors of the event. Rupert stood among the crowd his arm candies left to mingle on their own. What he needed just then was not their frivolity but Monique's body to soothe his own. The woman of his fancies soon appeared behind him and asked him for a dance. It was so easy yet so difficult to refuse.
The music began and their heartbeats joined to the throbbing of the drums. Rupert was having the time of his life. The woman in his arms was everything he imagined. The grace with which she swayed to the music gave Rupert ideas he would rather not have especially with his wife waiting for him at the hotel in the honeymoon suite. But here she was, the famous designer Monique, the desire of so many men, content and purring, with her gentle breath caressing his shoulders. The temptation in him reared its head to give in to the poison men are most wont to succumb to. Rupert would have cheated on his wife in such a circumstance but she wasn't really his wife. She was a responsibility posed upon him, a responsibility so easy to resist but difficult to refuse. He could not turn his back to the responsibility he had, to the trust he had to conquer in order to conquer a place in the heart of his only living family, a family that had abandoned him for the sake of her own selfish future. Imli had trusted him with the hope that he would be a better man than her father and would be able to overcome the cultural differences that separated Him and his wife. Was he able to? He hadn't seen Shimonthini for a long time. Since the start of the show, he was busy fighting his temptation for the woman now in his arms. Now that she was within his reach Rupert considered self-denial to be his only option.
"What are you doing later tonight?" Monique purred into his ears, baiting him into the infidelity that would prove her fears. Rupert wanted to tell her that he was doing nothing but keeping her company like all other night. But he knew that it was a ploy for him to slip. He was offended at the implication Monique made. Did she really expect him to cheat on her? Did she really not realize that he knew that it was her all along? Rupert was hurt and when he spoke the pain shone through.
"My wife is waiting for me in our room," he said. The word wife sounded so strange to her ensuing from his tongue. It was Rupert who always insisted that their marriage was not legal and that they should wait until both were sure of it.
Monique turned away from him. Whether it was a disappointment or distaste Rupert could not see. He wished to tear off the mask that held her expressions from him. But that was the mystery of the masquerade ball. Monique excused herself and went off in the direction of the exit. Rupert knew what he had to do now but was he ready? He questioned himself.
Tears rolled down Monique's eyes behind the mask that concealed her emotions. Yes her husband was loyal to her. Her husband was loyal to the docile Shimonthini. She could read in his expression the struggle he went through to refuse her. Her husband wanted Monique as well and it was up to her to whether to indulge his desire or his righteousness. Shimonthini was happy that her husband passed her test of loyalty but she was sad that he had chosen a name over a personality, a title over an identity.
While the drama of her life folded within the ballroom floor Henry was being accosted by his younger brother into divulging the whereabouts of the woman who had abandoned him. Henry had half a mind to call security but the bond of blood beckoned him to help. He finally decided to go to the one person who would be interested in Heinrich's plight. Any other situation and Rupert would have refused to meet Heinrich but this particular moment all he needed was a distraction.
Henry had no idea that Rosaline had come to inform her father about walking out of marriage. The news shocked and relieved him to know that at least Rupert managed to find her once. It was just like Rupert to let her go without asking her where and why. If Henry knew his brother he also knew there laid a dossier on her brother's table about the current whereabouts of his daughter. How Rosaline could imagine that Rupert would let her disappear into the unknown Henry wondered. Rupert was controlling at times almost to the point of discomfort. It was his care and concern that oozed through but still, Rupert Mornington was not a laid back man of any sort.
While Rupert evaded Heinrich's questions which he did not wish to share the answers to Shimonthini peeled away the life she did not wish to share with her husband. Her husband had made the choice apparent between Shimonthini and Monique and she had to follow suit. Shimonthini swathed herself in the domesticity that she imagined suited a newly wedded Indian wife.
The following day he started early to work. It was the start of the show. Rupert became tensed thinking about the next time he would come face to face with the force of nature called Monique. He knew that his flirting and touches were disturbing his wife to the point that she was a volcano waiting to burst. Given the least interactions that they had during work hours, it was surprising how she affected him even from a distance. If the woman who forced him into this marriage had an inkling of the attraction she would perhaps be scandalized. His body desired for her beyond all logic, beyond every rule or norm. A man is a weakling when it comes to women and Rupert had always indulged his weakness but that weakness had never overpowered him. Rupert decided to hire some escorts to the show. Having soft bodies pinned against his would perhaps allay his throbbing desire for his wife, not to mention throw her over the edge in jealousy.As Rupert entered the fashion show with top models hanging from both arms his identity as a man became more pronounced to him and he could feel Monique's gaze tearing through his flesh from across the huge room. She was there dressed as a woman should be dressed, flaunting all her curves yet hiding just enough to spike the intrigue of every man in the room. Yes, all eyes lay on the masked vixen eyeing the alpha male of the pack. In defiance, Rupert pulled the women closer to his body and in response, they giggled. Rupert was impervious to the jolly mood they felt. His skin was on fire and his breathing heaved. Henry was there on a different corner of the room wary of Monique's reaction to her first love indulging him in wanton women.When Henry had asked her so long ago her reason to be with Rishi, she had written him a confusing answer."Dear Henry,I did not run away from my wedding in the hope of a future I may not have. It is true it was impossible for me to enter the relationship with my intended because I love a different man. That said you know the man. I am in love with your brother. You may be laughing your brains out as you read this. I am in love with a man who does not know about my existence and whom I am hardly ever to meet. Yet I love him. I won't say I have never seen him. I have seen him through your eyes, the always righteous, always dutiful man that in my world exists only in myths. I know I have no way to reach him. I, an ignorant Indian girl may never attain the height he has achieved by his own effort. Yet I take inspiration from him to be greater than the station I was born in and I hope that one day I will ultimately gain the stature to stand before him and demand some time for me. It may be a moment of recognition or a moment of fantasy. But I will one day stand before Bert Monnet and he will take my hand in his and ask me my name and I will introduce myself as Monique and he would know just who I am. But for now I need to respect myself and the world fails to respect a woman without a man by her side. Rishi took from me the privilege I wished to give to your Casanova brother: the privilege of being my first. Right now, without gaining heights of excellence I do not feel I have much to offer the man I idolize. I have miles to go before I can stand before him and I require a showpiece on my arms to keep the vultures at bay. So why not Rishi?"Henry never had the heart to tell her that Rupert wasn't really his brother and had decided not to use their family name after his birth father passed away. What he couldn't tell her was that Rupert changed his name to Mornington on his dying father's wish to carry on his family line. Monique finally had her wish. He had obeyed her in never initiating a meeting between his muse and his brother. Yet they meet. They meet when both are destined to another.The show started and Monique went backstage. Henry sighed in relief and notices Rupert doing the same. Monique found her veil doubly effective at hiding her tears. Yes, Shimonthini could never be one of the two women Rupert clung to and neither would she try. One by one fashion statements of the year was made. High heel after high heel flooded the ramp to the throbbing of heady music. There was a buzz among the crowds. There was the light from the flash going zap as frame by frame the night was immortalized in Fashion Journals. Brand after Brand came and went and icons after icons contended for the eye of the fashion fanatics. The fashionable women of the upper society giggled in the front row planning the outfit for their next kitty party. Backstage the buzz of a different frequency reigned. The models slipped into dresses that were too short or too long, trying not to trip over or not to flash too much. Everyone was nervous. The showstoppers trembled with excitation. The energy from the auditorium seeped through the dull curtains of the green room. The fresh faces of the fashion week were giggling too much themselves to the tragedy of the makeup artists and the fashion designers. The designers themselves skipped from one model to another fixing a pleat here or a button there. The models formed one line after another as the parade began. The first girl in had the onus of setting the rhythm for the next which was in itself a daunting responsibility. A few hours into the Parade the announcement was finally made. Mornington Enterprises had finally claimed their own in the fashion world and their presentation was the forever elusive Madame M collection. Those familiar with Madame M collection gasped at the feat. Those that belonged to a world devoid of Madame M were intrigued by their fellow fashionistas' reaction. That was when the sound of the Wagner's march began and bride after bride came through the green room curtain. They were brides covered in lace and silk alike. All stood out in pristine whites, crisp reds and vibrant green. Brides from every part of the world, every religion and every culture flooded the ramp till the showstopper stepped on in an Indian style embroidered Elizabethan gown done in crme white with Baby Blue highlights accompanied by a woven lace pink veil. The veil was a work of art in itself and the dress not far behind. It managed to not just end the show but also stop the hearts of the spectators. It was a dress every woman would envy and the petite Indian draped in the dress was none other than Monique.From his own seat, Rupert smiled at his own success. The night was far from over and he intended to enjoy it to the fullest. The crowd was led to the adjacent room where a ball was arranged, a masquerade ball for the benefactors of the event. Rupert stood among the crowd his arm candies left to mingle on their own. What he needed just then was not their frivolity but Monique's body to soothe his own. The woman of his fancies soon appeared behind him and asked him for a dance. It was so easy yet so difficult to refuse.The music began and their heartbeats joined to the throbbing of the drums. Rupert was having the time of his life. The woman in his arms was everything he imagined. The grace with which she swayed to the music gave Rupert ideas he would rather not have especially with his wife waiting for him at the hotel in the honeymoon suite. But here she was, the famous designer Monique, the desire of so many men, content and purring, with her gentle breath caressing his shoulders. The temptation in him reared its head to give in to the poison men are most wont to succumb to. Rupert would have cheated on his wife in such a circumstance but she wasn't really his wife. She was a responsibility posed upon him, a responsibility so easy to resist but difficult to refuse. He could not turn his back to the responsibility he had, to the trust he had to conquer in order to conquer a place in the heart of his only living family, a family that had abandoned him for the sake of her own selfish future. Imli had trusted him with the hope that he would be a better man than her father and would be able to overcome the cultural differences that separated Him and his wife. Was he able to? He hadn't seen Shimonthini for a long time. Since the start of the show, he was busy fighting his temptation for the woman now in his arms. Now that she was within his reach Rupert considered self-denial to be his only option."What are you doing later tonight?" Monique purred into his ears, baiting him into the infidelity that would prove her fears. Rupert wanted to tell her that he was doing nothing but keeping her company like all other night. But he knew that it was a ploy for him to slip. He was offended at the implication Monique made. Did she really expect him to cheat on her? Did she really not realize that he knew that it was her all along? Rupert was hurt and when he spoke the pain shone through."My wife is waiting for me in our room," he said. The word wife sounded so strange to her ensuing from his tongue. It was Rupert who always insisted that their marriage was not legal and that they should wait until both were sure of it.Monique turned away from him. Whether it was a disappointment or distaste Rupert could not see. He wished to tear off the mask that held her expressions from him. But that was the mystery of the masquerade ball. Monique excused herself and went off in the direction of the exit. Rupert knew what he had to do now but was he ready? He questioned himself.Tears rolled down Monique's eyes behind the mask that concealed her emotions. Yes her husband was loyal to her. Her husband was loyal to the docile Shimonthini. She could read in his expression the struggle he went through to refuse her. Her husband wanted Monique as well and it was up to her to whether to indulge his desire or his righteousness. Shimonthini was happy that her husband passed her test of loyalty but she was sad that he had chosen a name over a personality, a title over an identity.While the drama of her life folded within the ballroom floor Henry was being accosted by his younger brother into divulging the whereabouts of the woman who had abandoned him. Henry had half a mind to call security but the bond of blood beckoned him to help. He finally decided to go to the one person who would be interested in Heinrich's plight. Any other situation and Rupert would have refused to meet Heinrich but this particular moment all he needed was a distraction.Henry had no idea that Rosaline had come to inform her father about walking out of marriage. The news shocked and relieved him to know that at least Rupert managed to find her once. It was just like Rupert to let her go without asking her where and why. If Henry knew his brother he also knew there laid a dossier on her brother's table about the current whereabouts of his daughter. How Rosaline could imagine that Rupert would let her disappear into the unknown Henry wondered. Rupert was controlling at times almost to the point of discomfort. It was his care and concern that oozed through but still, Rupert Mornington was not a laid back man of any sort.While Rupert evaded Heinrich's questions which he did not wish to share the answers to Shimonthini peeled away the life she did not wish to share with her husband. Her husband had made the choice apparent between Shimonthini and Monique and she had to follow suit. Shimonthini swathed herself in the domesticity that she imagined suited a newly wedded Indian wife.
