‘What? When did I do that, my lord?’ Arabella asked, looking up. Behind the easel, she was mixing fresh paint colours.
‘When I walked into the study,’ he explained.
‘What about your mother?’
He chuckled. ‘She’s an exception!’
‘Not even a nanny?’
‘I’m too old for nannies. But our cook, Mrs O’Herring, she can order me about. She runs the kitchens and has been with our family forever. She’s like another grandmother. Do you live with your grandmother?’ he asked, indicating the sleeping woman.
‘I do live with her, but she’s my dear friend Hannah Wakeley’s grandmother,’ Arabella said. ‘Hannah’s older brother, Andrew, was a friend of my father’s. Papa named Andrew my godfather, and he and his wife have cared for me since I was nine. We all live together at Bedfordshire House.’
‘I know your parents passed away. I’m sorry for that.’
‘Thank you. My father was lost at sea while sailing for the Americas, and I lost my mother before that.’ Arabella’s eyes watered.
‘I apologise. That must be the worst thing I’ve ever brought up in a lady’s presence. It wasn’t polite.’
‘No, it’s fine,’ Arabella said. ‘I can’t get sad every time someone brings it up. I plan to open my own art studio and give lessons there. I have to be pragmatic.’
‘You don’t plan on marrying?’
‘That scandal ruined me.’
‘I hardly remember what you mean.’
‘The … painting at my art show,’ she whispered, cheeks aflame.
‘For heaven’s sakes, dear girl. We all know that wasn’t your work.’
‘It was presented as mine.’ Arabella sighed.
‘Everyone could tell by your reaction that you had no part in it. I don't believe that for a second. Now, will you please take off that veil? I can't imagine that you can see very well with it on.'
Arabella looked offended for a moment, and then her expression softened. She tugged off the veil and draped it over the Duchess.
Now she could see him even more clearly, and she felt a bit unsteady. Perhaps the veil had been helpful in ways she hadn’t realised.
‘What was the painting that was supposed to be presented at your art show? The one that was replaced?’
Arabella shrugged. ‘A fountain and water lilies at Bedfordshire House.’
‘Was it ever found?’
‘Not that I know of — and it was my favourite of them all,' she said, looking sad for a moment. ‘Now, if you please, I must go on to Danvers Court for the afternoon. We can resume in a few days when the paint has fully dried.'
‘Would you like to stay for tea with Mother and me?'
‘I don’t think I can,’ Arabella said. ‘I must make sure the Duchess gets back home.’
‘We can send her home in one of our carriages,’ William offered. ‘What kind of hosts would we be if we made you late for your next appointment?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of putting you out,’ Arabella said. ‘We must be going.’ She touched the shoulder of the elderly woman, who stirred and snorted. ‘It’s almost time to go,’ Arabella said.
‘Oh! Oh dear, I fell asleep for a moment,’ the Duchess said.
‘Here we are,’ Arabella said, picking up the older lady’s glasses, which had fallen to the floor.
‘Oh! Oh me!’ she exclaimed.
Arabella helped the Duchess out of the study, leaving William alone with the portrait.
Chapter 7
William knew it might be bad luck for him to see the portrait before Arabella had finished it, but he couldn’t resist. He looked, and he was surprised. She had sketched him and then devoted most of her attention to his eyes. They were so beautiful, so vivid. He was enthralled.
Downstairs, when he joined his mother for tea, she immediately wanted to know about the portrait. ‘How is it coming?’
‘Well … she’s making me more handsome than I actually am,’ he admitted.
‘That’s a good thing. Consider how future generations will look at you,’ Mother said.
William found himself thinking more about Arabella’s situation, and suddenly the sandwiches and biscuits didn’t look so appetising. ‘That poor girl … she thinks she’s been ruined. That painting wasn’t even hers,’ he said.
‘Everyone who was there knows that,’ Mother replied.
‘It was a cruel trick,’ William said. ‘Someone switched the paintings. Arabella’s a pure, virtuous girl, but someone was out to hurt her. Why would someone do such a thing?’
Mother sighed. ‘There are cruel people in this world, son,’ she replied. ‘More than I’d prefer to know about.’
‘I want to know who did it,’ William said. ‘I want to clear her name.’
‘Are you mad? Why get involved?’ Mother said.
‘She has given up on getting married because she thinks no one could possibly want to marry her now, but she’s a virtuous girl — a nice girl. She’d make a fine wife.’
‘William!’ Mother exclaimed, surprised. ‘What’s this? You find Arabella Chamblin worthy of marriage?’
‘Worthy of marriage? Of course, she is! She's a merchant's daughter, and she was raised with Hannah Wakeley,' William said. ‘Although I'm not saying I fancy her.'
‘I’d be fine with you choosing a girl like her for a wife,’ Mother said quietly.
‘Oh, Mother,’ William groaned.
~~*~~
William decided not to call upon Lady Lily that night. Calling on a girl so young seemed unsettling to him. Instead, he called upon the Scunthorpe’s accountant.
‘Lord William, so nice to see you, but couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow?’ he asked.
‘I have some urgent questions,’ William said. ‘I’m looking for the paintings by Arabella Chamblin that were sold at Scunthorpe Hall a few weeks ago. I need to locate them right away.’
‘While it’s late, my apprentices would be happy to help you find information on the piece you’re looking for.’
‘Certainly, but … I’m not looking for one piece,’ William said. ‘I’m attempting to track down all of them.’
The accountant’s eyes widened.
‘All of them? Well, who am I to deny the request of a nobleman? Right away, my lord.’
‘You mustn’t put yourself out,’ William said. ‘It need not be tonight.’
‘Thank you, my lord. We can compile a list of the names on the receipts for you by … tomorrow afternoon, perhaps?’
‘Certainly, that would be helpful,’ William said.
‘Thank you for your understanding, my lord.’
~~*~~
A few days later, William spent the morning sitting for Arabella.
‘I must admit I committed a sin,’ William said after the Duchess fell asleep.
‘Shouldn’t you be confessing that to a priest? Or to your brother Lord Benjamin, the priest in training, perhaps?’ Arabella jested.
‘My brother wouldn’t hesitate to use it against me,’ William said. ‘Because it was the sin of vanity.’
‘Vanity, hmm? Maybe I shouldn’t let you see this portrait at all.’
‘Would you destroy the portrait if you knew?’
‘Knew what?’
‘What kind of sin it was?’
‘What is it, then?' She asked, smiling alongside the easel. Her smile even extended to her eyes.
‘I looked at the portrait after you left it behind the other day.’
‘Why would you do such a thing?’ Arabella exclaimed. ‘It’s not the final piece! And it’s bad luck besides.’
‘I could not help but do so. You are such a talented artist, and you are committing a sin as well.’
‘Me? A sinner? You must be mistaken!’ she said.
‘You are making me fairer than I actually am. Isn’t that the sin of deceit?’
‘But that’s an artist’s job: to make sure future generations don’t know how homely you actually were.’
‘Homely?’ he said and burst out laughing.
Arabella laughed too. ‘Now let me work!’
~~*~~
William went through the list the Scunthorpe's accountant had compiled for him. He turned first to the most expensive paintings, assuming they were the larger ones and sought out the families who had purchased them.
Each of Arabella’s larger paintings was accounted for, but none was the scandalous one. He couldn’t imagine that a painting so large could have been sold for a smaller amount, but he went on to track down the lower-priced paintings. As he assumed, they were all smaller ones.
For the next several weeks, he sat for Arabella every few days. She was charming him, and he had to admit he was beginning to fancy her. But this stain on her reputation…
‘I’ll see you again in two days?’ he said at the end of their Friday sitting before Advent.
‘My lord, you’re forgetting. That will be Sunday. I go to church with Hannah and her family,’ she said.
‘Ah yes, of course,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you Monday then, in the morn.’
On Sunday morning, William mounted Ember and rode to Arabella’s church instead of St Elisabeth’s, his own. She entered with Hannah and her family and immediately went to pray, putting down the kneeler. She clasped her hands in front of her face and lowered her chin, closing her eyes.
William was enthralled by her features, not entirely hidden under the veil: her tiny, straight nose, her full, cherry-red lips, her thick eyelashes, her dark curly hair pinned up under a proper bonnet… She looked like the Virgin Mary herself.
William was struck by the realisation that she was beautiful, in addition to being a virtuous girl. And that he was happy to see her. At that moment, he doubled his resolve to clear her name.
~~*~~
‘Almost finished,’ Arabella said one morning not too long thereafter.
‘Do I get to see it?’ he asked.
‘Yes, you may. I’m signing it right now.’ She bent down to initial the portrait’s corner. ‘There!’
‘We’re done?’
‘Yes!’
William stood up, stretching his back. He came to Arabella’s side, and they looked at the portrait together. ‘Wonderful,’ he said after a minute. ‘Who is this again?’
Arabella tried to frown, but a giggle escaped, and she tried to stifle it. ‘I shall miss these semi-chaperoned moments between us, my lord.’ The Duchess had fallen asleep again.
‘As shall I,’ William said. ‘Mother has your payment awaiting downstairs.’ He picked up her paint-covered hand, lifted her fingers to his lips, and kissed them. He felt a tingle run through his whole body as his lips touched her bare skin. Her eyes were wide too. He dropped her hand and bowed. ‘Good day, Miss Chamblin.’
He picked up his topper and left the study quickly, his thoughts running wild. Had she felt it too? Or was I the only one? I’m being silly. Daft, even. I shall have the honour of trying to clear her name, and that is all.
William mounted his horse and rode to Scunthorpe Hall. Frances and her husband were still away in Manchester, but her mother-in-law, Sophia, Dowager Duchess of Scunthorpe, was at home. William had almost exhausted his list; this was the last painting he was going to see. He hoped this was the one. If not, maybe the Duchess would know what had happened to it.
At Scunthorpe Hall, it wasn’t long before the Duchess greeted him. He bowed and kissed her gloved hand.
‘Ah, so lovely to see you, William,’ the Duchess said. ‘Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’
‘I am inquiring about the art show your daughter-in-law put on here with my sister-in-law, Catherine, Duchess of Thornton.’
‘Ah, yes! It was a success up until the end, don’t you think?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I would agree,’ William said. ‘And you bought one of Miss Chamblin’s paintings, didn’t you?’
‘In fact, I did!’
‘May I see it, your grace?’
‘Only if you join me for a spot of tea. I’m a mighty bit lonely without my son around.’
‘Of course.’
After a pleasant interlude, she and a footman escorted William to her personal sitting room. ‘I keep the painting in here. I had it reframed and hung right away,’ she explained. ‘It is lovely.’
‘It is?’ William asked, surprised that she would call a nude painting lovely.
‘Yes, indeed.’ She opened the door to the sitting room. ‘That’s it, on the north wall.’
William recognised one of Arabella’s flower paintings, this time a hydrangea bouquet. He felt a sinking sensation of disappointment.
‘Was this not the one you were looking for?’
‘Unfortunately, your grace, it is not,’ he admitted. ‘But it is a beautiful painting.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ she agreed. ‘That girl is so talented. I love the rose colour; it goes with the décor. Don’t you agree?’
Chapter 8
Arabella had been invited to Thornton Manor for a party to unveil William’s portrait. She hoped it would bring her more commissions. A girl had to support herself if she couldn’t marry. Maybe befriending Lord William Windham was going to be a good thing for her aspirations.
Arabella had to admit it — she did enjoy William's company. She had never been entirely comfortable in the company of men before, aside from Andrew, of course.
Frances was home from Manchester and would be attending the party as well. The prospect of seeing her dear friend after a few weeks away added to Arabella’s anticipation.
When the special night came at last, she put on her veil and her best evening dress, one of crimson muslin that accentuated her dark hair. She and Hannah set off for Thornton Manor in the coach.
On the way, Arabella imagined the scene. The manor house would be decorated for the holiday season and lit up festively. The event would be the party of the season, and she an esteemed guest. And William would ask her to dance, and while dancing, he’d confess that he fancied her…
She shook her head. She was being silly. Lord William would never fancy a girl with a soiled reputation. But there had been a spark between them when he kissed her fingers. His lips had touched her bare skin … and it was glorious. She had felt as if she would swoon at his touch. The memory of it made her feel the same way now…
Arabella tried to shake off the thought.
‘Bella, are you well?’ Hannah asked.
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ Arabella replied.
‘This veil is so silly!’ Hannah exclaimed. ‘It’s been so long since you were embarrassed at your own party. It’s time to take off the veil.’
‘No,’ Arabella sighed. ‘Everyone believes —’
‘You don’t know what they believe. You don’t know what they think of you. Anyway, it’s none of your concern what other people think of you,’ Hannah replied. ‘You’re a virtuous girl, and you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re feeling ashamed for no reason at all!’
The girls were silent in the coach as they waited for it to pull up to the front of the manor house. The lampposts leading up the drive were indeed decorated for the holidays, and holly branches adorned the front door and windows.
‘I just hope William is pleased with the portrait,’ Arabella said.
‘William?’ Hannah asked, a smirk crossing her face. ‘You’re not calling him Lord William anymore?’
Arabella coloured up at her slip of the tongue. ‘All I meant was that maybe he’ll let me do a full portrait of him, that’s all. And he and I are friends. I enjoy his company.’
Hannah laughed. ‘Of course you do! Who wouldn’t enjoy the company of men as handsome as the triplet brothers?’
The coach finally pulled up, and a handsome footman in white gloves and fine livery escorted the girls into the manor house, where a long garland been draped along the banister of the staircase.
Arabella and Hannah were announced by the major-domo and seated at the table of Cecil and Tessa Henley, Duke a
nd Duchess of Avonshire, long-time friends of the girls who often chaperoned them at soirées. Cecil rose and bowed to welcome the girls to the table; they curtsied in response. Arabella and Hannah fell at once into a relaxed conversation with Tessa about the news and fashions in the latest issue of La Belle Assemblée.
‘But enough on dit,’ Tessa said suddenly. ‘You girls need to pin up your trains so the gentlemen know you’re interested in dancing!’ Arabella dutifully did so, but no one approached her to ask for a dance, let alone a pair of dances. ‘Those dreadful rumours are still following me, I’m afraid,’ she lamented to Tessa as Hannah was escorted onto the dance floor by the first in a line of suitors.
Arabella saw Lady Tabitha enter behind her parents — Ezra and Agatha, Duke and Duchess of Wolverhampton — all looking high in the instep, as always. She sighed as all the bachelors ran past her to ask Lady Tabitha to allow for a dance or two for each of them. The girl’s curly red hair was the envy of many women of the ton, London’s high society, while her sizeable dowry was attracting many of its men. To Arabella’s pleasure, she didn’t see Lord Benjamin or Lord William clamouring for the redhead’s attention.
Cat brought Arabella a glass of negus, the delicious mulled wine Mrs O’Herring made for every soirée. ‘So good to see you!’ she exclaimed as they embraced. ‘Here, this will calm your nerves. I saw the Scunthorpe coach earlier — Franny’s here!’
‘I thought you disliked Lady Tabitha,’ Arabella whispered in Cat’s ear.
‘Of course I do!’ Cat replied. ‘But what am I to do? Her parents are influential in the ton, so Mother Edith insisted. I’m sorry they’re on the invitation list too. But think how jealous Tabby’s going to be when she sees the portrait you painted!’
‘She always looked down on you — and me too — for not being of the nobility. Does your mother-in-law expect you to befriend her now?’
‘I was honest with Mother Edith. She told me it’s all politics. Personally, I think it’s bloody stupid!’ Cat hissed, the vulgar word making Arabella gasp and colour up.
‘Cat! You can’t say those sorts of things in public. Especially now that you’re a duchess!’
The Lord's Portrait (A Regency Romance) (The Regency Brothers in Love Book 2) Page 4