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While Je
When Genevieve Windham was allowed to paint for hours, she became luminous, exhausted, and serene—as if she’d been well satisfied in bed. Observations like that were only one reason Elijah found it increasingly difficult to work beside her day after day.
As they crossed the back terrace, he wrapped her hand over his arm. “What do you find difficult about your father’s portrait?”
“I find Papa difficult,” Je
That was all likely true, particularly the protective and devoted parts. “You’re afraid he’ll forbid you to go to France.”
She tucked closer, and Elijah cast around for something comforting to say besides, “So why the hell are you going?” Particularly since he’d seen that sketchbook full of dying children and Je
“How do you like my portrait of Sindal’s boys, Genevieve?”
“I adore it. Sophie and Sindal adore it, and Lord and Lady Rothgreb will be crowing to all of their neighbors about it. You made two busy, grubby, noisy little boys charming, and yet, it’s them. It really is them.”
He wanted to kiss her, and not for the usual reasons. He wanted to kiss her because something about having her on hand when he’d done those sittings had given him the courage to come out of some sort of artistic exile and enjoy his work again.
They left the terrace, moving across the snowy wasteland of the Moreland gardens. “That’s what you have to do with His Grace. You have to be honest but compassionate, so your rendering really is him.”
“Because the portrait is for Her Grace, I tell myself I must try to see Papa as she sees him. He is her dear Percival, and whatever there is about him to love, Her Grace focuses on that.”
They were moving farther and farther from the house, far enough that Elijah let himself take Je
She paused before a gate in a tall wrought iron fence, her expression concerned. “You’re going to go home, aren’t you, Elijah?”
“Everybody goes home, eventually.” He took her hand in his again. The snow was deeper here, more than a pretty dusting. “I miss my family, and they miss me. My mother claims the Academy will never allow me full membership.”
“You think she’s scheming?”
“I think I’m as talented as the next four contenders put together, and there are two vacancies.” Though talent had never been necessary or sufficient to gain entrance. “I think a man, particularly an arrogant young man, should pay the consequences for giving his word.”
And yet, how long were those consequences supposed to last, and upon whom were they to devolve?
“I will miss my family too. I know that.”
Not the way she’d miss them when the winter wind on the Cha
And far from her family’s benevolent meddling, she’d effectively eliminate any and all possibility of having children and a family of her own.
She said nothing until they reached their destination, and then she turned a slow circle, taking in each gravestone and marker. “You remembered. Oh, Elijah, you remembered.”
He would remember this too, remember Je
And then he’d let her go.
“Je
“Paris in springtime is supposed to be lovely,” Sophie observed. “Sindal says he’ll take me one of these years, but there always seems to be a baby on the way or one just arrived.”
Petite, blond Eve, her feet up on a hassock, patted her belly. “Please, God, let one arrive before I explode or Deene frets himself into a decline. Lou wouldn’t be worried if Je
Maggie left off poking at the fire—no footmen would disturb this gathering—and took up a rocking chair. “Je
“She needs a fellow,” Louisa said. “We all needed a fellow, and the boys needed their ladies.”
Sophie considered her drink. “I don’t know, Lou. Your fellow lets you write all the poetry you want, and has you dedicate the racy verses to him. Ladies have been writing poetry for eons. Je
“Deene let me ride King William,” Eve said. “Before I got as big as King William. Maybe the right fellow will encourage Je
There was a point to be made here, and Louisa had not the patience to make it subtly. “It’s not just that Je
And Joseph, as anybody with any brains knew, was nigh infallible.
“Amateurs can be brilliant,” Maggie said, though her tone suggested they seldom were.
Eve appeared to study her feet as if she hadn’t seen them in some time. “I gather the difficulty is not only that Je
Louisa glowered at her sisters. “Frenchmen no longer understand gallantry, what few Frenchman are left between the ages of five and fifty. They will pillory the daughter of an English duke on general principles, despite their convenient reversion to monarchy at the end of Wellington’s sword.”
A silence descended, not even the clink of a spoon disturbing it. Glances were exchanged. Eve, the most recently married, spoke up.
“Mr. Harrison is gallant, and he understands art. Deene says the menfolk chatted away an entire afternoon while Je
Maggie picked up Timothy, though how he’d gotten into the room was a mystery. “Mr. Harrison insisted Je
“Happy,” Sophie said. “She looks happy when she paints.”
The cat started purring in Maggie’s lap, loud enough for all to hear.
“We’re agreed, then,” Louisa said. “Mr. Harrison makes Je
Eve yawned, Maggie stroked the cat, and Sophie picked up an embroidery hoop. “Paris would make her miserable, if she were allowed to go, which will never come to pass as long as Their Graces draw breath. Shall we order another syllabub?”