The Portrait

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The Portrait Page 7

by Joan Wolf


  I lifted my chin. “As Leo said earlier, I am French. I like to have my money in my own hands.”

  Leo said, “I hope you aren’t planning to return to France with a hundred thousand pounds in your purse, Isabel. That much money needs to be invested. It has been invested, in fact, and it has done very well. It would be foolish to take it out of the investments that are adding to your bank account.”

  “Who is in charge of these investments?”

  “Your father named the Earl of Camden to oversee the account, so first my father and then I have been investing it for you. You can’t simply withdraw all that money and hide it under your mattress!”

  His tone put my back up, but I had enough sense to see the sense of what he was saying. I crossed my arms over my chest, scowled at Leo but kept my mouth shut.

  Mother said, “Do you have a plan for this money, my love?”

  Why not tell them? The money is legally mine. Leo said it was. They can’t stop me from spending it the way I want to.

  I spoke to Mother and ignored Leo. “My Papa is getting old and I want the money for him. He has worked hard his whole life and he deserves to retire and spend time with his horses without worrying about money.”

  Tears came to Mother’s eyes and she smiled at me. “You love your Papa very much.”

  My answer came quickly. “He is the best man in the world, and I love him with all my heart.”

  Leo said, “We can set up a fund that will give him a generous income for the rest of his life. But you won’t need the whole amount of the trust to do that. There will be money for a handsome allowance for you—and for an extremely nice dowry as well.”

  “A dot?” I looked at him in surprise. “I have no plans to marry, Leo.”

  “Ever?”

  I had thought about marriage of course. Every girl thinks about marriage. But I had never met a man I wanted to marry. I had never met a man like my Papa. If I met a man like him…a man who was kind to the very marrow of his bones, a man whom other men respected and looked up to because he was such a shining example of what a man should be, a man who loved horses and children and making people happy—then I might think of getting married.

  I answered Leo’s question with a shrug and said, “My standards are high.”

  My mother said, “Good for you, my love. Good for you.”

  “I can’t quarrel with an answer like that,” Leo said. “You will have enough money to live unmarried if you so choose, but you ought to get to know some young men and see if you can find someone who will meet those high standards.”

  I was immediately suspicious. “What do you mean?”

  “Your cousin Susan is coming on a visit and we all hoped you would join her at some local parties and dances this spring.”

  “This is Aunt Augusta’s idea,” I said immediately.

  “Yes, it is, and I think it’s a good one. You have promised to remain here for six months and only one of those months has gone by.” The golden eyebrows lifted. “I hope you are planning to honor that promise. I don’t think your Papa would like his daughter to renege on her word of honor.”

  I glared at him. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

  “Of course not.”

  His blue eyes held mine and I was the first to look away. “Of course I mean to honor my word,” I said stiffly.

  He gave me his most beguiling smile. “Good girl,” he said.

  To my great annoyance I found myself smiling back.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mother’s arrival and Leo’s assurance that I would get my money reconciled me to the fact that I would have to remain in England for five more months. And life at Camden Hall had become less foreign as I grew accustomed to it. The echoing hugeness of the house and all its fabulous treasures were no longer alien territory to me. Although I still missed our cozy farmhouse in France.

  Mother and I passed many happy hours chatting in my sitting room or walking through the famous Camden Hall gardens. She told me her father, my grandfather, had engaged a gardener with the odd name of Capability Brown to design them and Mr. Brown had created something that was truly lovely. Mother and I would walk together along enchanting serpentine paths that wound their way through beautiful thick woods. There was even a Grecian Temple, which I privately thought looked ridiculously out of place in the midst of the English countryside.

  The weather continued to be beautiful. It rained overnight, and the days were sunny and warm. During our walks together Mother reminisced happily about what it had been like to grow up at Camden. I told her frankly that her childhood sounded boring to me, and she laughed and agreed that it wasn’t as much fun as growing up in a circus.

  Mother also took on the role of peacemaker between Aunt Augusta and me. Ever since I had arrived Aunt Augusta had been trying to turn me into an English lady, and I had been resisting. My clothing was one of Aunt Augusta’s chief complaints. How was I going to attend a dance when I had no evening gown?

  English ladies dressed for dinner in what looked to me like fancy ball gowns. Margaret had a selection of these that she wore to dinner every night and she looked stunning in them. But I had never worn a dress without sleeves, let alone a dress that was cut as low as Margaret’s were. I also did not have the breasts Margaret had.

  The day after Aunt Augusta’s disparaging remarks about my wardrobe my mother took me into Lambourn to buy a ball gown and a few other more appropriate dresses for dinner. She picked out the ball dress first.

  “I can’t wear a dress like that,” I said as I looked at the skimpy concoction the shop owner was holding up in front of me. “It would fall off my front.”

  Mother laughed. “The seamstress will alter it to fit you, Isabel, and you will look lovely.”

  I was dubious, but when the dresses were finally delivered and I tried on one of the sleeveless low-cut dinner dresses, I was pleasantly surprised. I looked down at my front and was surprised that my small breasts looked quite womanly.

  “I feel half naked,” I confessed as I regarded myself in the mirror.

  Elisabeth tut-tutted and Mother laughed. “You look beautiful, my love.” She turned to Elisabeth. “Her hair is lovely. You are very talented, Elisabeth.”

  Elisabeth glowed. She was still a pretty woman, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. She was fifty-one, but she did not look her age.

  One of my biggest concerns about coming to Camden Hall had been for Elisabeth. At home she was part of the family; she lived with us, ate with us, went to church with us. It was very different for her at Camden Hall and I worried about it. She seemed to exist in some half-world, not a servant but not family either. Fortunately, she and Mrs. Adams got along well, and Elisabeth took her meals with the housekeeper in her apartment. She was even learning English. But it wasn’t the same as it was at home. Elisabeth had been a rock for me when I desperately needed her, and I loved her very much.

  I think Mother understood this because she left to go down to dinner leaving us alone.

  “You look beautiful, Isabel,” Elisabeth said. Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

  I went to give her a hug. She took a step back, telling me not to crush my dress, but I hugged her anyway. “Merci, Lisa,” I said. “Je t’aime.”

  She gave me a wobbly smile. “Je t’aime aussi.”

  “I know,” I replied in French. “And I am so grateful for that love, Lisa. I have so much to thank you for.” We both started to sniffle.

  Elisabeth held up her hand saying, “Stop. You cannot go downstairs with tearstains on your face.”

  I nodded and inhaled deeply. She patted my bare shoulder and I turned and marched resolutely out the door.

  *

  I had almost reached the drawing room when I heard Aunt Augusta’s voice saying my name. With no feeling of guilt whatsoever, I stopped to listen.

  “The child knows nothing about good society, Maria. Nothing.”

  I looked up and down the hall and found it empty. I stepped clo
ser to the doorway the better to hear.

  “Before you came, she would spend her entire day down at the stables. When I asked Leo what she was doing for all those hours, he told me she was training one of his mares. What nonsense. Leo is an excellent horseman. He doesn’t need a slip of a girl to train his horse.”

  Mother said, “Leo has always loved his horses. I’m sure it’s something he and Isabel have in common. They seem to get along very well.”

  Aunt Augusta snorted. “I wish he would find a woman who interested him half as much as his horses do. He needs to marry again!”

  Mother sighed. “Is it still as bad as it was?”

  “Nothing has changed. It’s ridiculous. Many men have lost a wife and baby in childbirth and it hasn’t stopped them from marrying again. But it’s impossible to talk to Leo about it. Whenever I mention marriage he gets this frozen look on his face and walks away.”

  “He must have loved Catherine very much,” Mother said.

  “That’s all very well, Maria, but he has a duty to get an heir! It’s ridiculous for him to spend the rest of his life mourning her. She was a beautiful woman but she’s dead!”

  I heard Leo’s voice down the hallway and walked into the drawing room with as much calm as I could muster.

  At last I had found out the truth about Leo’s marital status. I felt sorry for him, of course. It was a terrible thing to have a happy occasion turn so tragic. I didn’t like thinking of Leo as being so deeply in love that he refused to accept any other woman as his wife. In fact, it annoyed me. For once I agreed with Aunt Augusta. He needed to put it behind him and marry again.

  The women had moved away from the drawing room door. I waited a moment before entering the drawing room then I went to present myself to Aunt Augusta. She smiled with pleasure at my low-cut blue gown. She beckoned me closer and stared grimly at my arm. I had no idea what she was looking at. I always washed when I came back from the stable.

  I recognized Leo’s step as he left the black and white marble floor and came onto the drawing room rug. Aunt Augusta turned her head toward the door and said in an awful voice, “Come here, Camden, and look at this chit’s arm.”

  I stared at my arm as well. It looked the way it always did. What was Aunt Augusta talking about?

  Leo came up next to me and I breathed easier. Whatever Aunt Augusta had found wrong I knew he would be on my side.

  “Look at this arm, Camden,” she demanded. She never called him Camden unless she was annoyed with him.

  Leo looked. “Very pretty,” he said.

  “She has muscles! The child has muscles in her arms!”

  Leo’s warm fingers slid around my upper arm. He squeezed gently. The feel of his fingers made a strange little shiver run though me.

  “And a very impressive muscle it is, Aunt Augusta,” he said agreeably. “You can’t train a thousand-pound horse without acquiring a few muscles, you know.”

  “It is not ladylike to have muscles.” For some reason, Aunt Augusta was furious with him. I was growing extremely tired of Aunt Augusta.

  “Isabel looks beautiful,” he said. His hand was still on my arm and I still had that shivery feeling. He finally took his fingers away, saying, “A muscle only adds to the graceful curve of her upper arm. I think she looks quite lovely.”

  I gave him a grateful smile.

  At this point, Robert and Margaret came into the room. Margaret stopped momentarily when she saw me then she came across the rug saying, “A gown. How lovely. Let me have a look at you Isabel.”

  I turned and prayed she wouldn’t say anything about muscles. I had muscles in my back too. But Margaret was always correct; she smiled and told me I looked charming.

  “Thank you,” I said. She was wearing the deep burgundy gown that gave her pale skin the sheen of pearls. Even if I had the most gorgeous dress in the world I wouldn’t look as beautiful as Margaret. Few women would.

  I wondered if Leo’s wife had been one of those few.

  “Roger won’t be joining us this evening,” Leo said. I caught a note of disapproval in his voice.

  “Where is that young scamp?” Lady Augusta asked, thankfully dropping the subject of my arm. In this house, when Leo spoke his mind the matter was settled.

  Robert and Margaret and Leo were still standing, and Leo said, “Someplace he shouldn’t be I suspect. Shall we go in?”

  And so we did. Leo and Aunt Augusta, Mother and me, Robert and Margaret, all of us marching in a stately line to eat another overcooked meal.

  Chapter Twelve

  When I went down to the stable the following morning, I was surprised to see Robert and his two boys there ahead of me. David and Charlie had been home from school for a week, but I had seen little of them. They lived in the nursery on the fourth floor, and rarely made an appearance in the rooms we adults used. I once asked Margaret what they did with their day. She had treated me to a long green stare and said, “I keep them busy.”

  I smiled at both children and said hello. Each boy looked exactly like one of his parents. David had Robert’s white-blond hair and blue eyes, and Charlie’s coppery hair and green eyes made him a male replica of his mother.

  “Can we see your horse, Isabel?” Charlie asked. “Uncle Leo says he’s magnificent!”

  “Of course you can see him,” I said. “Let me ask Stoddard if he’s still in his stall.”

  I collided into Leo when I turned into the stable doorway.

  He grabbed my arms to steady me and I looked up into his concerned blue eyes. When I was close to him like this it always surprised me how big he was. “Are you all right, Isabel?”

  “I’m fine. The boys want to see Alonzo and I was just going to check on him.”

  Two ponies were standing in the stable aisle. One was a sturdy-looking little fellow and the other an extremely fancy Welsh pony. Behind them grooms were tacking up Robert’s bay gelding and Silver Boy.

  “Are you going out with Robert and the boys?” I tried to keep the hurt out of my voice. He hadn’t asked me to join them.

  “Yes, we’re going to ride out to Smithson’s farm. The family have asked Rob for a new roof and he wants to get a closer look at the old one before he authorizes it.”

  I had joined Leo on several of his visits to the tenant farms and it had become one of my favorite things to do. The cozy farmhouses were a happy reminder of my home in France. I wondered why he hadn’t included me in this morning’s ride.

  I tried to ignore my hurt feelings and asked, “Would you mind if I came along?”

  “Of course I don’t mind.”

  I was still smarting from not being asked to join them earlier and said a little sulkily, “You don’t have to include me if you don’t want to.”

  He looked surprised. “Of course I want you to come along. Rob and I sat up late talking and you had already gone to bed when we decided to take the boys out. I asked one of the footmen to put a note under your door telling you to meet us. Didn’t you get it?”

  The sun came back out in my life. I counted on Leo to be there for me in this strange place. I shook my head. “I didn’t see it.”

  He shrugged, his big shoulders moving easily under the fabric of his riding coat. “Get Martin to saddle Alonzo. We’ll wait for you.”

  Martin had just finished topping up the water buckets in each stall and was happy to help me get Alonzo ready. When I led my horse out into the sunshine, everyone was already mounted. The boys admired Alonzo, but I could tell they were disappointed. “He’s not very big,” Charlie said at last.

  “Andalusians usually aren’t,” I said.

  “We’ll get Isabel to show you how he performs,” Leo promised. “Then you’ll see how special he is.”

  The boys agreed politely, but looked dubious.

  Leo kept a pony for each of the boys. Charlie’s was old, quiet and amiable; a good ride for an eight-year-old. David had just been given the fancy Welsh pony, but David was ten and big for his age. Rob was riding his nice-loo
king bay and Leo was on Silver Boy. I put my foot in Alonzo’s stirrup and swung into the saddle.

  The boys looked at me in astonishment. “You ride like a boy, Cousin Isabel!” Charlie said.

  Leo looked at me to see how I would answer. “Alonzo doesn’t like sidesaddles,” I told Charlie.

  “My Mama rides sidesaddle,” David said.

  “Most ladies do,” I agreed.

  “Shall we move off?” Robert suggested. “Isabel, why don’t you and Leo go first with David, and Charlie and I will follow.

  We arranged ourselves in the formation Robert had suggested and walked to the farm road that wound throughout the immense Camden Hall property. David talked enthusiastically about his new pony and Leo and I listened as we let the horses continue to walk. Once we had reached a straight run of road Leo turned to look back at Robert and asked, “Shall we trot?”

  “Yes,” Robert responded, and all the horses moved forward.

  It was a day of mixed sun and clouds and the sun came out as we began to trot. We had gone about a quarter of a mile when David asked, “Can we canter, Uncle Leo?”

  “Let me check first with your father.” Leo turned his head and called to his brother, “Is it all right if we canter?”

  I had turned to look at Robert as well, wondering why Leo would need his brother’s permission. David was clearly a good rider; he had his pony under control.

  Robert didn’t answer immediately, and as I looked at him I thought that if Leo was a child of the sun, Robert was a child of the moon. The sun turned his hair and brows to silver and his eyes looked almost translucent under the brightness of the sky. He looked at his youngest son and asked, “How about a short canter, Charlie?”

  Charlie who looked comfortable on his small pony, replied, “A short one, Papa.”

  All of the horses lifted into a canter. It was a beautiful day and I could feel Alonzo’s energy under me. I didn’t want to outpace David’s pony, so I collected him a little. David was riding between his father and me when suddenly his pony broke into a gallop. I heard Leo curse then he brought Silver Boy back to a trot and steered him until he was directly in front of Charlie’s little pony. I heard Robert saying to his son, “You’re fine, Charlie. Punch isn’t going to run after Gawain.”

 

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