‘William!’ Cat exclaimed. ‘I didn’t know you were home.’
‘I am. You invited your friends over?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I’m the Duchess of Thornton now. I don’t need your permission,’ she said sourly.
‘It’s nice to see you,’ Hannah said as William kissed her gloved hand.
‘And you as well,’ he said.
He went next to Arabella. She curtsied, keeping her eyes on the floor, but did not offer her hand. He reached out and took it, kissing it. ‘Arabella, are you well?’ he asked.
‘Yes, my lord. Thank you,’ she said in her whispery voice, eyes still on the floor.
William thought Arabella was charming but shy, needing to allow more people into her life. He had been pleasantly surprised by her company during their waltzes at her art show and saddened to see her reputation bruised by that scandalous painting. He wondered if she was still able to support herself.
‘You’re having tea?’ he asked.
‘We’re having luncheon in the gardens,’ Cat replied. ‘Just us. A ladies’ luncheon.’
William understood: he was not included. ‘Well, enjoy yourselves.’
‘We shall,’ Cat said.
‘Wait, Cat,’ William said, an idea brewing in his head. ‘I’ve needed to sit for a portrait for some time. It’s a family tradition. Arabella is a talented artist.’
‘What?’ Cat asked, surprised.
‘You heard me. Arabella, would you consider painting my portrait?’
Arabella looked up, surprised, finally meeting his eyes.
‘I … suppose I could,’ she stammered.
Chapter 5
William’s mother was upset to learn that he had approached Arabella directly to paint his portrait. ‘I had a perfectly good artist in mind,’ she complained, straightening his collar. She had been insistent that he call on Lady Lily tonight. ‘You went over my head?’
‘Mother, I am a grown man now— I should be planning these things for myself,’ William said.
‘Of course,’ Mother sighed, her frustration fading. ‘I’m just not ready to let my boys go. Henry is married now, and you’ll probably be next.’
‘Says who?’
‘You’ll abandon your mother and leave me on the streets!’
‘Mother, don’t be daft. I would never. Not you.’
‘You’re doing your Christian duty. Arabella’s reputation has been bruised. She could use the work, poor girl. Now … you know where you’re going tonight?’
‘To call on Lady Lily Green. Mother, do you truly think this is a good idea? She hasn’t Come Out yet, so I can’t court her,’ he said, tying his cravat in a barrel knot with the aid of the looking-glass.
‘There,’ Mother said, adjusting the knot for him. ‘Her mother and I just want you to meet. She is young, but her age would give you time to decide what you want. It will be a few more years before she is ready to marry.’
‘That sounds wonderful to me,’ William said. ‘I’m not sure I wish to marry yet either.’
Mother sighed. ‘Oh, Lord help us all, William! Go, and don’t be late. Never keep a lady waiting.’
He put on his topper and greatcoat and bid her adieu.
~~*~~
‘Lord William Windham is here,’ the footman announced.
William stood in the foyer with a single rose. He could hear someone misplaying the harpsichord in the parlour.
Lady Lily entered the foyer with her mother, Louisa, Duchess of Danvers. ‘Good evening, Lord William,’ the Duchess said.
‘Good evening, your grace,’ William said. He bowed and offered the rose to her. She accepted it with a smile and a nod to her lady’s maid, who disappeared immediately in search of a vase.
Lady Lily looked uncomfortable, said nothing, and kept her eyes on the floor. Arabella was shy, William thought, but she hadn’t looked uncomfortable or angry to make his acquaintance, as this girl did. William knew his mother meant well, but he felt awkward calling on Lady Lily. He was at least ten years older than she. She had just turned fourteen and still looked like a child.
‘Lily has been practicing the harpsichord with her teacher,’ the Duchess said. ‘Would you like to hear her and Anastasia play?’
‘Mother!’ Lady Lily cried, horrified.
‘It couldn’t hurt,’ the Duchess said. ‘Here, Lord William, come into the parlour. We’ll have some tea prepared for you.’
William entered the parlour, where a girl, about age ten, was trying to plink out some music on the harpsichord. He was surprised to see Arabella seated nearby, watching.
‘Anastasia? You seem to be doing well,’ the Duchess said.
Lady Anastasia looked embarrassed, and Arabella gasped when she laid eyes on William.
‘That was lovely,' William said, although it was apparent that even he didn't believe his words.
‘Anastasia, what do you say?’ the Duchess prompted.
‘Thank you, my lord,’ Lady Anastasia mumbled, eyes glued to the floor.
‘Why don’t both of you girls play a tune for Lord William?’ the Duchess suggested.
‘Oh, Mother!’ Lady Anastasia whined. ‘I’m not ready for that!’ She rushed out of the parlour.
William felt awkward for the second time within minutes of his arrival.
‘I could play a piece on the pianoforte,’ Arabella offered. ‘Or Lord William and Lady Lily could go for a walk in the garden.’
‘Excellent idea, Miss Chamblin,’ the Duchess said. ‘Would you mind accompanying them? A footman can chaperone you.’ The Duchess nodded to the nearest footman. He promptly bowed deeply to Arabella, who was not sure how to respond. She decided on a curtsy.
The Duchess seems in a bit of a pelter, Arabella thought. I should be of aid.
‘Certainly,' she said and turned to the footman. ‘Could you bring my cloak and winter bonnet?'
‘And my greatcoat and topper as well,’ William said. ‘And Lady Lily’s pelisse and bonnet.’
~~*~~
Arabella and the footman stayed a step or two behind William and Lady Lily. She tried not to slip into a daydream. While the veil obscured her vision a bit, it did offer some extra warmth.
She could see that Lady Lily was miserable. William tried to ask a few questions to make conversation, but she was too nervous and shy to respond.
Arabella knew how to speak to the gentlemen who called on her, even if it was difficult — or had been, in the not-too-distant past. She didn’t expect another gentleman to call on her for the rest of her life.
She had entertained the thought of using her dowry to buy a ticket to the Americas, but she wasn’t sure she wanted that. Her father’s death at sea on the way there had been hard enough to bear. How could she travel that route herself, even if she had a chaperone? No, she was, in effect, trapped in England with a soiled reputation.
‘Your mother said you like music. Do you play any other instruments?’ William asked.
‘I play the harp-lute,’ Lady Lily mumbled.
Truly, Lady Lily does better on the harp-lute than the harpsichord, Arabella thought. I should have suggested that when her mother asked her to play.
The painful walk finally ended with the four circling back towards the manor house. Once inside, the footman took their coats and hats, and they entered the parlour again. William seemed a bit lost.
The Duchess was at her secretary in the corner, quill in hand, seemingly absorbed in letter writing. Chaperoning a daughter was a delicate balance, Arabella realised. The Duchess seemed to want the girl to feel as if she were on her own, while still keeping a motherly eye on the proceedings.
‘May I play a favourite song for you both?’ Arabella asked. ‘To enrich the evening?’
‘That would be lovely, Miss Chamblin,’ William answered.
He and Lady Lily seated themselves on the sofa, with tea and biscuits before them on the table. Arabella sat at the harpsichord. She had discreetly slipped off her gloves. ‘If you’ll forgive me, my fingers became a b
it chilly outdoors,’ she said, rubbing them to warm them up. ‘This will take just a moment.’
‘In your own time,’ William said.
Lady Lily should have been offering to pour his tea, Arabella noted. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Perhaps Lady Lily can work on a piece to play for you on the harp-lute the next time you call. For now, I think she’ll be happy to serve you tea. How do you take it?’
‘That would be nice,’ William said. ‘I take it plain.’
Lady Lily silently reached for the steaming teapot.
Arabella’s fingers no longer felt stiff, and she strummed a few chords as Lady Lily served the tea to William. Arabella began to play an Irish folk song she had always loved, ‘Robin Adair.’ She didn’t sing the lyrics, hoping to encourage the two to converse.
She felt as if she were the sole entertainment for Lady Lily’s visitor by the time she started playing ‘The Turban’d Turk,’ careful not to sing its improper lyrics. She kept her thoughts trained on how naturally the notes came to her on the instrument, but once in a while, she glanced at Lady Lily and William to see if they had finished their tea, only to find them both watching her. She played a third song on seeing them still sipping tea silently, listening to her music.
As Arabella finished the third song, Lady Lily looked as if she were going to swoon. A long, awkward silence followed.
The girl stood up, at last, setting down her teacup. ‘I'm very sorry, my lord. I'd like to go to bed now,' she said. ‘Goodnight.'
‘Goodnight. Thank you for having me,’ William replied, rising to kiss her gloved hand.
She curtsied and went upstairs. Her mother sighed, set down her quill, and followed.
‘I suppose I should be going,’ he said to Arabella.
‘Yes, that might be wise,’ she replied, signalling to the footman. ‘Could you bring Lord William’s greatcoat and topper, please?’
She turned to William. ‘I’m going to say goodnight to Lady Lily.’
‘Thank you, Miss Chamblin,’ William said. ‘Goodnight.’ He bowed.
Arabella curtsied and went upstairs. She could hear the Duchess complaining in Lady Lily's chambers. ‘And if you can't entertain suitors properly, how can you ever expect to marry? You must take this into account when someone as well born as Lord William comes to call on you! Why do you think I've asked Miss Chamblin to give you music lessons? So you don't have to talk so much since you're so odd around men who call on you! Now go to bed, and we'll talk again in the morning.'
Arabella hid on the staircase as the Duchess walked past, not noticing her, then slipped up the stairs to Lady Lily’s chambers. The girl was lying across her bed, face down on her pillow.
‘Lady Lily? May I come in?’
The girl didn’t answer, just sniffled. Arabella entered anyway.
‘Being courted by gentlemen … it’s a learning process. We can practise when your mother’s away sometime. I know it’s intimidating.’
‘It is,’ Lady Lily sobbed. ‘Why do I have to do this now?’
‘To learn. You’ll catch on sooner or later. Pray and trust in the Lord. Goodnight, dear.’
Chapter 6
Arabella almost said no to Cat’s invitation to Thornton Manor for dinner on All Saints’ Day. But she knew her friend was frantic, being tested by her new mother-in-law on her skill in organising and hosting parties. Mother Edith, as Cat called her, had been instructing Cat in how to run the household, and the upcoming holiday season would be her first big test. Arabella knew she needed to be there to help; she always knew how to put her friend at ease.
Cat especially needed preparation because she had been raised middle-class, not as a member of the nobility. True, she had learned from Hannah and Frances, having lived with each of their families before her marriage, but she’d never had to organise an event on her own. She didn’t count Arabella’s art show as a success, and in any case, Frances had arranged most of the details.
Now Cat was hosting a little dinner as a test and had invited Arabella. The other best friends wouldn’t be joining them: Hannah had a party of her own to attend, and Frances had gone to the northern city of Manchester with the Duke to visit his mother’s family.
Arabella wore her favourite high-waisted blue wool winter dress for the dinner. She took the coach to Thornton Manor, where a footman helped her alight, escorted her inside, and took her wool shawl and bonnet.
Cat swept down the staircase in a new hunter green dress. ‘Bella, must you still wear that veil after all this time?’ she scolded. ‘You don’t need it!’
‘Aye, I do,’ Arabella said. ‘You look beautiful.’
‘Thank you,’ she sighed. ‘I’m certain the first dinner shall be a success. It’s only a practice dinner with the family. And you, of course. Come now, let’s have a glass of sherry.’ The girls went to the dining room, and Cat ordered sherry from a footman.
The mother of the triplet brothers entered with her usual effusive greeting. ‘So lovely to see you, Arabella!’ she said, giving her a warm hug. ‘Dear, I think it’s best if you do the portrait of William, as he requested.’
‘Mother Edith was intending to choose the artist for the portrait, but William surprised her!’ Cat said gleefully.
‘Oh!’ Arabella exclaimed.
‘Oh, Catherine,’ Mother sighed. ‘You say that as if I don’t like your friends. I do!’
‘And we never discussed payment,’ William said, entering the dining room.
‘Good evening,’ Arabella said with a slight frown, curtsying. It seemed improper to speak about money in the company of others.
‘Good evening, Arabella, I haven’t seen you since yesterday,’ William said, a grin crossing his face as if he were raising some kind of breeze.
‘Oh, you saw her recently, William?’
‘Yes, at Danvers Court,’ he said. ‘She helped the Duchess of Danvers host my visit with Lady Lily.’
‘How did the visit go?’ Mother asked.
‘Terribly,’ William answered brightly.
Mother’s eyes widened. ‘Oh!’
‘Lady Lily is young,’ Arabella interjected quickly. ‘Terribly young. Lord William was one of her first gentlemen visitors.’
‘You played the harpsichord beautifully, though,' William said. ‘Hopefully, in a few years, those girls will be as good as you are.'
Arabella coloured up.
~~*~~
The dinner proved delicious, with the white soup, saddle of mutton, potato pudding, and apple puffs particularly well received. The brothers enjoyed a glass of claret to finish and gave Cat a round of applause.
At last, the hour came to depart. ‘I am so sorry to leave such delightful company, my lord, but I rise early to paint in the mornings,' Arabella said. They were seated some distance from Mother and Cat, who were engaged in a lively discussion of ninepins strategy.
‘Of course,’ William said, signalling to the footman. ‘Could you bring Miss Chamblin’s shawl and bonnet?’
‘Yes, your grace,' the footman said and disappeared.
‘We never discussed payment for you, did we, Arabella?’ William asked quietly.
‘No, we never quite did,’ she said. ‘Don’t you think it a bad time to discuss financial arrangements?’
‘Dinner is over; I think not.’
‘Very well then … so …’ Arabella knew little of bargaining the way men did.
‘I think two hundred pounds would make a good price. Provided that I like the portrait, of course.’ He smiled.
‘You … you’ll pay that much?’ she asked, surprised.
‘Of course.’
‘That would be enough for me to open my own studio, a small one. I’d be able to have students of my own!’ Arabella exclaimed. ‘This is wonderful! Thank you, my lord.’
‘It’s William. Just William. You don’t have to use my title; I prefer using Christian names. And let’s get to work as soon as possible.’
~~*~~
Hannah's grandmother, Oli
via, Dowager Grand Duchess of Bedfordshire, kindly agreed to chaperone the portrait sittings. For the first one, she and Arabella spent the night at Thornton Manor, in one of the guest bedchambers so Arabella would be able to paint in the very best early-morning light. In the morning, when the cock crowed, Arabella woke and put on a simple morning dress of sprigged muslin. She set up her easel, paints, and brushes in the study, where William had requested the portrait be done.
She had a quick breakfast of porridge and tea as dawn broke with the rise of the wintry sun, then retired to the study. Donning an apron to protect her dress, she worked on the background of the painting. In time the Duchess joined her, having requested a late breakfast be brought to her in the study.
Arabella made sure her brushes were clean and damp, ready for the oil paints. The Duchess slurped her tea while the background dried.
‘What an opportunity for a girl like you,’ the Duchess sighed. ‘Getting to paint a portrait of Lord William Windham!’
‘It’s just a bust-level portrait,’ Arabella said, fanning the canvas to help the paint dry more quickly. ‘Head and shoulders.’
‘Maybe if you do well, you’ll be commissioned for a larger one,’ the Duchess said.
‘I hope so,’ Arabella said, laying out a drop cloth so she wouldn’t get paint on the oriental carpet.
William knocked on the door of the study, then opened it. ‘May I come in?’
‘Anytime you’re ready,’ Arabella said. ‘The light is lovely this morning. I’d prefer you in that chair. Facing the light, if you will.’
‘Of course,’ William said. He flashed a grin at her as he sat down.
Arabella got out her chalk to sketch the outline of his face. She enjoyed sketching his high cheekbones, his Roman nose, his perfect green eyes. All of the triplet brothers had amazing features, but William’s were the best, she decided.
She had barely finished her first sketch when a snore tore her attention from his features. The Duchess had fallen asleep.
William chortled, and Arabella realised that it was somewhat funny. They didn’t want to wake the elderly woman.
‘I’m not used to women ordering me around,’ William said, noticing how comfortable Arabella seemed at the easel, so different than the other times he’d seen her.
The Lord's Portrait (A Regency Romance) (The Regency Brothers in Love Book 2) Page 3