Gallant Officer, Forbidden Lady

by Diane Gaston

  He shrugged.

  Nancy finished one cup of tea and poured herself another. ‘Lord Tranville, I saw you on the street yesterday afternoon. Who was the young lady with you?’

  Jack darted a glance to his mother, who merely stared down at her plate.

  With no hesitation Tranville responded, ‘It must have been Miss Blane. I escorted her back from Jack’s studio.’

  Nancy shook her head in bewilderment. ‘From Jack’s studio!’

  Jack broke in. ‘Lord Tranville commissioned me to paint Miss Blane’s portrait.’

  Nancy’s eyes widened. ‘It was the younger Miss Blane, the actress who played Juliet. I thought she looked familiar.’

  Tranville leaned towards Nancy. ‘I am convinced the young Miss Blane will be a great success, as great as her mother. She will be an asset to the theatre.’

  ‘I see,’ murmured Nancy, but she looked uneasy.

  Jack rose and put another piece of bread on his plate.

  Tranville pulled out his watch, an expensive gold timepiece, and checked the time. ‘It is late. I must be off.’

  Jack returned to his seat.

  ‘Must you leave so early, Lionel?’ Jack’s mother appeared crestfallen.

  Tranville leaned down and kissed her on top of her head. ‘Business, my dear. I’ll call upon you again, I promise.’ He put his hand on Nancy’s shoulder. ‘A pleasure to see you again.’ He nodded to Jack and walked out of the room.

  Jack could not even look at his mother.

  Nancy seemed to force a smile. ‘Well. It is the younger Miss Blane who sits for you. Tell us, is she as pretty up close as she was on stage?’

  Jack fought to keep his expression bland. ‘I would say so.’

  Nancy went on, sounding determinedly cheerful. ‘How exciting. How is the painting progressing?’

  ‘I have hardly begun.’

  She kept on. ‘I should like to see her up close. When does she next come for a sitting?’

  ‘Today at two.’

  ‘May I come and meet her?’ She gave him a look that dared him to refuse her. ‘I promise I will not stay and distract you.’

  Jack glanced at his mother, whose face had become pinched.

  ‘I can think of no reason to object,’ their mother said, looking as if she wanted anything else but to give her daughter permission to meet the woman who was to replace her in Tranville’s bed, a woman in the freshest bloom of youth and beauty.

  Jack could think of no excuse to keep Nancy away. ‘Very well.’ His glance went from his mother to Nancy. ‘Come at two.’

  Chapter Six

  Nancy picked through the bundled herbs at the Covent Garden stall, selecting a bunch of lavender and holding it to her nose before placing it in the basket her friend Michael held for her. She reached in her reticule for her coin purse.

  ‘I will pay,’ Michael gave the vendor a coin. ‘It will be my gift to you.’

  ‘Thank you, Michael. You are too good.’

  ‘It is my pleasure,’ he said.

  They strolled past vegetable and fruit stalls tended by red-cheeked vendors bundled in wool, their breath making clouds as they hawked their wares.

  ‘Thank you for taking me out, too,’ Nancy said. ‘I sometimes think I shall go mad sitting in the drawing room all day watching Mama do needlework.’

  ‘Again, the pleasure is all mine.’

  She sighed and glanced away as they walked.

  ‘Something is troubling you,’ he said.

  ‘Troubling me?’ She glanced back at him.

  Michael was not quite as tall as her brother. He was thinner, as well, but to Nancy he was a dependable friend and much too perceptive.

  ‘Nothing troubles me,’ she stated emphatically.

  He threaded her arm through his and looked upon her with his kind blue eyes. ‘You cannot fool me, you know.’

  His face was so dear, so open and earnest, but she was not even certain she could put into words what troubled her.

  ‘Are you concerned about your mother?’ he asked.

  She pulled away. ‘Why do you think I would be concerned about Mama?’

  His smile turned conciliatory. ‘A mere guess.’

  They walked on in silence, no longer touching. Nancy stopped in front of a stall holding cages of hedgehogs, popular as pets because they ate the beetles that plagued London houses.

  She leaned down and touched the snout of a baby hedgehog poking through the slats of his cage. She liked how Michael never pressured her to speak, like Mama sometimes did, wanting to know anything that distressed her. Her mother, like Michael, would also have perceived her upset and she certainly could not confide in her mother.

  Nancy glanced up at Michael, who merely smiled with unspoken sympathy. She stood again. ‘Oh, Michael.’ She slipped her arm through his and they strolled on. ‘I am not certain what upsets me.’

  He merely squeezed her hand.

  They passed by a flower stall. He stopped and purchased a small bouquet of flowers and handed them to her. She smiled. He was always giving her small things. He was her very best friend and the only friend she had in London. Even though she only really met him last summer, she felt as if she’d known him her whole life. Perhaps she could talk to him a little.

  ‘How much do you know of my family?’ she asked him.

  He did not answer right away. ‘I know your father died when you were very young. I know that—’ He hesitated and took a breath. ‘I grew up in Bath. I know that Lord Tranville…supported your family.’

  He said it without censure and it gave her the courage to go on. ‘It was very wrong for my mother to accept Lord Tranville’s help, but I am convinced it is due to the grand passion they have for each other.’

  She glanced at him to see if he wore that same sceptical look as Jack. Michael seemed only to be listening.

  She went on. ‘I was used to his—his visits to my mother from time to time, but last night—’ She swallowed. ‘I think he spent the night with her because he was at the breakfast table this morning. It bothered me.’

  ‘Did it?’ Michael remarked.

  She stopped him and looked up into his face. ‘Remember yesterday when we saw him with that young lady?’

  He nodded.

  ‘That bothered me, too.’ Her throat tightened. ‘It was that actress, the one who played Juliet. It is she Jack is painting.’

  ‘Jack is painting her?’ He sounded surprised.

  She nodded. ‘Lord Tranville commissioned the portrait. I—I think she may have some designs on Lord Tranville.’

  ‘What makes you think so?’ His calm tone soothed her.

  ‘Oh—’ she sighed again ‘—just a feeling. When I mentioned seeing her with Lord Tranville everyone started acting strangely. Jack was there, too, and he acted strangest of all.’

  Michael reached up and brushed a lock of hair off her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. ‘There is likely some other explanation, but let us formulate a plan to discover what the true reason may be.’

  She felt all the tension leave her. ‘You will help me?’

  He smiled at her. ‘Of course I will.’

  She took his arm again and started walking. ‘What are you doing today at two o’clock?’

  Shortly before two, Nancy and Michael rapped on Jack’s door.

  Jack was still in his shirtsleeves when he answered it.

  ‘I hope you do not mind I brought Michael.’ Nancy crossed the threshold and took off her cloak.

  ‘Indeed not.’ Jack shook Michael’s hand. ‘No classes today, Michael?’

  ‘Not today.’ Michael set the basket on the table near the door. ‘I was at liberty to escort your sister to the market.’

  ‘We brought a tin of biscuits for tea.’ Nancy hung up her cloak. ‘Shall I put a the kettle on?’ She took the tin from the basket and handed it to him.

  ‘You are staying for tea?’ Jack did not look happy.

  The plan she and Michael had concocted was that they w
ould stay for tea so Nancy would have a better opportunity to assess Miss Blane. ‘It will enable us to have a real chat.’ She walked to the galley.

  Jack followed her. ‘You merely wanted to meet Miss Blane, you said.’

  She smiled sweetly at him. ‘It would be impolite not to chat with her.’

  Michael approached Jack. ‘My father sends his regards. I received a letter from him yesterday.’

  How like him to create a diversion. Nancy gave him a grateful look.

  Jack answered him. ‘He is well, I hope.’

  ‘In excellent health.’ Michael gestured toward a stretched canvas on the floor. ‘Do you need any help with that? I’m accustomed to it with my father.’

  ‘No help. I have finished. It only lacks tidying up.’ Jack brought out a broom and swept up the scraps of linen and wood that were on the floor.

  ‘I’ll get those.’ Michael took the dustpan from Jack’s hands. ‘Is there somewhere for this outside?’

  ‘Out of the door in the galley.’ Jack picked up the stretched canvas and set it against the wall.

  Michael brushed past Nancy on his way to the door. ‘How are we doing?’ he asked in a low voice.

  ‘Splendid so far.’ Nancy leaned her head out of the galley doorway. ‘I can only find three cups,’ she called to Jack.

  ‘Look behind the jars of pigment,’ Jack responded.

  She rummaged through the cabinet and found the extra cups, setting one on the tray. ‘Will Miss Blane be prompt? I can pour the hot water now.’

  Jack did not look pleased. ‘She was on time yesterday.’

  Nancy took a breath, refusing to be daunted.

  ‘I need to finish dressing.’ Jack disappeared into his bedchamber.

  Michael came in from outside. ‘We are staying for tea, I gather.’

  Nancy grinned. ‘We are indeed.’ She carried the tea tray into the studio. ‘Help me rearrange the furniture.’

  They pushed four chairs into a cosy group with the tea table in the centre. Nancy took out the flowers Michael had purchased for her. ‘I’m going to put these out. I’ll take them home later.’ She found an empty jar to use as a vase and placed the flowers on the table. ‘Thank you, Michael. We should have plenty of time to take her measure.’

  Jack emerged from the bedchamber still buttoning his coat. He surveyed the scene. ‘You cannot stay long, Nancy. I’ve work to do.’

  A knock sounded at the door and Nancy’s heart jumped into her throat.

  ‘I’ll answer it.’ She reached the door before Jack could protest.

  When she opened it, it was Lord Tranville she saw first. He stood with Miss Blane on his arm.

  ‘Lord Tranville!’ Nancy’s spirits fell. This seemed a confirmation of her fears.

  ‘Nancy, my dear.’ Tranville gave her a peck on the cheek and stepped aside so Miss Blane could enter.

  Miss Blane looked at Nancy and broke into a smile. ‘You are the sister—’

  ‘Jack’s sister,’ Tranville broke in.

  Her attention was on Nancy. ‘I remember your portrait from the exhibition.’ She extended her hand. ‘I am Ariana Blane.’

  She remembered the portrait? Nancy could not help but be complimented. She curtsied. ‘I am Miss Vernon.’

  ‘I am so pleased to meet you.’

  Lord Tranville was poised to assist her with her cloak, but Miss Blane took it off herself and hung it on a peg next to Nancy’s.

  Jack stepped forwards. ‘Allow me to present our friend to you.’ He gestured to Michael. ‘Lord Tranville, Miss Blane, this is our friend Mr Harper.’

  ‘I am honoured.’ Michael bowed.

  ‘How nice to meet you,’ Miss Blane said, sounding as if she really meant it. ‘I believe I saw both of you on the street yesterday. Is that not a coincidence? Oh, look, you have tea.’ She turned to Jack. ‘You should not have gone to so much trouble.’

  ‘My sister did it all,’ he responded.

  Lord Tranville immediately chose the best chair and held it out for Miss Blane. ‘I cannot stay long.’ He took the chair next to her for himself.

  Michael fetched a fifth cup and chair while the others sat and Nancy started to pour.

  Conversation predictably began with the weather and how they all hoped February would bring warmer temperatures.

  Miss Blane turned to Nancy. ‘Let me say again how glad I am to have seen the lovely portrait of you. I do not know when I have been so impressed.’

  ‘She’s a very pretty girl.’ Tranville spoke as if Nancy were not seated across the table from him. ‘I believe her looks will bring her excellent marriage prospects.’

  Nancy lowered her head in embarrassment.

  Jack glared. ‘That, sir, is family business.’

  Tranville gave him an ingratiating smile. ‘Jack, my boy, you know that what concerns your family, concerns me. You may rest assured that I will be on the lookout for suitors for your sister. My position gives me an advantage. I know the best people. I dare say I can discover more than one man who will find her acceptable.’

  Nancy’s cheeks grew hot.

  Miss Blane laughed. ‘You jest, sir, surely. It is very plain that Miss Vernon can attract her own suitors.’

  Tranville gave her a patient look. ‘She looks well enough, indeed. Her looks and youth will make my job easier, I am certain.’

  Jack looked as if he would explode. ‘It is not your job, sir.’

  Even Michael looked angry.

  ‘Stop talking nonsense, Tranville,’ Miss Blane ordered in a good-humoured voice. ‘Your joke is falling flat. If you were onstage, I would close the curtain and bring out the ballet dancers.’

  Tranville looked about to defend himself, but Miss Blane quickly turned to Nancy. ‘Tell me, Miss Vernon, have you seen any fashion prints for this month? There seems to be a tendency for dresses to have ruffles at the hem, which I adore. I must order one.’

  She had deliberately altered the subject, Nancy realised. ‘I think it makes for a pretty change.’ Nancy turned to Michael. ‘Do you not think so, Michael?’

  Michael looked as surprised as Nancy, but he rose to the occasion. ‘It is rather like the embellishments one sees in the decorative arts these days, I would say. A new trend.’

  Jack seemed also to be staring at Miss Blane in astonishment.

  ‘Michael is a student of architecture at the Royal Academy,’ Nancy explained to Miss Blane.

  Jack turned to Lord Tranville, but his expression was still rigid. ‘Mr Harper is Sir Cedric’s son. You know Sir Cedric, the portrait artist in Bath?’

  ‘The fellow who got you into this business?’ Tranville’s tone was deprecating. ‘Paints the people who come for the waters?’

  ‘He is a member of the Royal Academy.’ Jack looked thunderous again.

  ‘Hats…’ Miss Blane turned to Nancy again. ‘What do you know of the latest in hats?’

  Nancy knew nothing of the latest in hats, but she babbled on about ribbons and lace and different shapes until Lord Tranville stood.

  ‘I must be about a matter of important business.’ He bowed to Nancy, but more pointedly to Miss Blane. ‘Do forgive me for leaving.’

  Jack stood, but made no effort to walk him to the door. Miss Blane continued to chatter about hats. When the door closed behind Lord Tranville, she abruptly abandoned the topic.

  When Jack sat again, Miss Blane lifted her cup. ‘Well, this is lovely.’ She took a sip and slid a glance towards Jack. ‘Have you showed your sister and Mr Harper our work so far?’

  ‘I have not.’ Jack still frowned.

  ‘Oh, do show them,’ she pleaded. ‘I should like their opinion.’

  ‘I would like to see them,’ Nancy added.

  Jack was still fuming inside at Tranville’s comments about Nancy. The audacity of the man to assume he had any right to arrange Nancy’s life. He rose reluctantly. ‘The sketches are in the back room. I’ll get them.’

  He strode into his bedchamber.

  Tranville
thought some man of his choosing would find Nancy acceptable? Jack remembered the men Tranville befriended in the army, men like Tranville himself, more concerned with their own ambition than with the welfare of the men serving under them.

  Jack opened the large trunk where he kept his drawings. He riffled through the stack he’d produced the day before, selecting only ten of them. When he put back the rest, he noticed the corner of a large leather envelope peeking out from beneath many other drawings he’d produced. It was the envelope containing his drawings from the war, from Badajoz.

  He closed his eyes as images of that night flashed in his mind, as they had so vividly the night before. Edwin deserved to be punished for it and Tranville deserved the shame of having such a son.

  Jack slammed the lid of the trunk. He, Deane and Landon had chosen to keep that secret. Jack had given his word.

  He wondered again what had happened to the French woman and her son. Had Deane managed to find them a place of safety? Had they survived the war? Did they dream of that night like he did?

  Jack shook the thoughts from his mind and picked up yesterday’s drawings and carried them into the studio. Michael removed the tea tray and flowers and Jack placed the drawings on the table.

  He showed them one by one and the lively discussion that ensued helped bring him back to the world that was his refuge. The world of his art.

  ‘I like the reclining figure,’ Michael said. ‘Its composition is pleasing. Very reminiscent of Titian’s Venuses.’

  Miss Blane laughed. ‘Mr Harper! Those paintings showed Venus without clothing. I’ve seen the engravings.’

  Michael turned red. ‘I meant in the composition, the pose.’

  She placed her hand on his. ‘I know that is what you meant.’ She turned to Jack. ‘Imagine if your work was compared to Titian.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘I very much doubt that would happen.’ He stared at his sketch of the reclining Ariana. God help him, he was picturing her as Titian’s nude Venus.

  ‘You are good enough,’ Ariana said.

  He raised his head and his gaze met hers.

  Nancy pointed to the picture. ‘It is very nice, but there is nothing in it to say this is Cleopatra. I thought you were to paint her as Cleopatra.’