The Portrait

by Joan Wolf

  I glanced at Leo. His profile looked set in stone.

  The solicitor spread his hands. “And now you are telling me Lord Mansfield has changed his mind and believes that Lady Isabel is his sister after all?”

  “Yes. He’s found another way to get his hands on the trust money. I do not want Lord Mansfield to have this money, Mr. Sinclair. It was intended for Lady Isabel and it should be given to her.”

  “I agree with you, my lord. But if we have Lady Isabel legally proclaimed to be Charlotte Lewins, the child who was stolen from the Earl and Countess of Mansfield, then I am afraid that, as her elder brother, Lord Mansfield will be her legal guardian.”

  “Is there no way we can get that changed?” Leo asked.

  “I will be happy to look into the matter, my lord, but I must tell you that I do not think Lord Mansfield is incorrect in his belief that as Lady Isabel’s older brother he will be able to dictate her marriage.”

  I had been slowly simmering during this conversation and now I said, “This is outrageous! My Papa is my guardian, not this Lord Mansfield whom I do not know. I am nineteen years of age! I am perfectly capable of deciding whom I want to marry. I don’t need a guardian to tell me what I can or cannot do!”

  Leo’s big warm hand closed over mine. I hadn’t realized I was gripping the chair arm so hard my knuckles were white.

  “I don’t doubt your capability, Lady Isabel,” Mr. Sinclair said. “Unfortunately, however, the law does.”

  We left his office in mutual silence. Frankie, Leo’s groom, was waiting in the street with the phaeton and horses. Leo lifted me up, Frankie jumped into the seat behind, Leo lifted the reins and we started for home.

  Neither of us spoke. I stared through the ears of the carriage horse on my side of the phaeton and made an effort to consider my situation rationally. It seemed to me that there was only one solution to this problem. We had to legally establish that I was not Charlotte Lewins, that I was Isabel Besson and the Earl of Mansfield had no say in what I might choose to do.

  I said this to Leo, and he shot me a blazing blue look. “I will never allow you to renounce your heritage! The blood of generations of English nobles runs in your veins. I will never allow Mansfield to win on this issue.” He shot me another look. “If we do as you suggest, you’ll lose the trust money. Have you thought about that?”

  A small muscle was twitching in his jaw, his mouth was set into a hard line and his cheekbones looked more prominent than usual. He was furious.

  I had never seen Leo angry before and it was intimidating. But I wasn’t ready to give up. “I don’t give a fig for what kind of blood is in my veins. As long as it’s red and it keeps me alive, I am happy to have it. Let my hateful brother keep the money. All I care about is being married to you.”

  I had spoken instinctively, but I meant what I said. Mr. Sinclair was too certain about Henry’s rights in regard to me. If I had to give my brother the money in order to marry Leo, then I would give him the money. Leo would see to it that Papa was provided for.

  I said as much to Leo and only succeeded in making him angrier. “That money belongs to you and I am going to make certain that you get it. Leave this problem of Mansfield to me, Isabel. I will resolve it.”

  “But how?”

  He shot me another of those looks and said, spacing his words, “You will get your money, we will be married in my parish church, and you will take your proper place as Lady Camden. My wife.”

  I have always thought of myself as brave, but I didn’t want to argue with him. I kept my silence and he kept his. It was an uncomfortable ride home.

  *

  When the phaeton stopped in front of the house Robert came out the front door as if he had been watching for us. He went immediately to Leo, who had jumped down from the phaeton’s high seat, and said something I couldn’t hear. Then the two of them came around to my side and Leo lifted me down. I was perfectly capable of jumping down myself, but I liked the feel of Leo’s hands around my waist, so I let him help me.

  “Robert tells me we have a visitor we should attend to immediately,” Leo said as we walked toward the front door.

  “A visitor? Who?”

  “A friend of mine. Come along and I’ll introduce you.”

  He was trying to be mysterious, but my mind was too full of what Mr. Sinclair had said to pay much attention. I had bigger things to think about than an unexpected guest.

  I stepped into the drawing room doorway and saw a slim man standing by the window. The light shone upon his hair—he had always been proud of his thick hair—and his gray eyes were fixed upon the doorway. My heart leaped. “Papa!” I screamed and ran toward him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I threw myself into Papa’s embrace and only stepped back when Leo said, “I would like to shake your father’s hand, Isabel. Do you think you might let go of him for a moment?”

  I loosened my grip on Papa so Leo could shake his hand. “I hope you have not been waiting long,” Leo said courteously. “Did they give you something to eat and drink?”

  “Yes,” Papa replied in his careful English. He gestured toward one of the small gilt tables that stood next to the brocade sofa; it held a teacup and a plate.

  I took Papa’s hand and held it tightly. “How did you get here? Did you come by yourself? Who is running the circus? What is…?”

  Papa cut into my barrage of questions. “Isabel, Isabel, do not be so hasty. I will answer your questions, but one at a time please.”

  Leo, who was standing behind me, said, “Why don’t you take your father to your sitting room sweetheart? I’ll have a bottle of wine sent along and some of your favorite biscuits.”

  I turned away from Papa and gave Leo a smile that trembled with emotion. I tugged on Papa’s hand and said, “Leo has given me my own private sitting room in the medieval part of the house. It’s totally different from this part—cozier I think. Wait until you see it.”

  We walked down Camden’s magnificent hallway, went through the door that led to the medieval part of the house and established ourselves in my familiar little sitting room. We sat next to each other on the sofa and I laid my cheek against his arm so I could sniff his familiar smell. He turned and took me in his arms. Papa is here! I thought. Papa is really here!

  A footman knocked on the door and delivered a tray holding a wine bottle, two glasses, and a plate of pastries. Once Papa and I had toasted each other with the wine, he told me about how his unexpected arrival at Camden Hall in Berkshire, England, had come about.

  “We were in the midst of a show on the outskirts of Deauville—you know the place, Isabel.” I nodded that I did. “I was watching Madeleine perform with the liberty horses—I thought Magnus might be a bit off on the left hind—when a man came up to me and asked if I was Pierre Besson. I said I was, and he handed me an envelope. The messenger said, “It is from the Earl of Camden, Monsieur. He asks that you read it and give me an answer.”

  “Leo sent you a letter?” I was astonished. “He never said a word to me about it.” I shifted my position so I could see Papa’s face better. “What did it say?”

  “He told me that you had agreed to marry him. And he asked me to come to England to be the horsemaster and manager of the new stud farm he was planning. He said his aim was to breed horses suitable for French-style equitation, and also to train English riders to ride them. He would pay me a handsome salary and give me a house of my own if I did not wish to live with his family. He invited me to come to England for your wedding and he told me that George Johnson, who had brought me this letter, was prepared with tickets for the boat to England. If I did not wish to accept his offer, he said that as soon as you were married, he would bring you to France to visit me.”

  When Papa stopped talking, he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and offered it. “Here is the letter. I think you should read it.”

  It was a beautiful letter. Leo said such lovely things about me and told Papa how much he loved me and wan
ted to take care of me for the rest of our lives. He made his offer to Papa sound as if Papa would be doing him a great favor if he would accept the position Leo was offering. Even if Papa did not wish to leave the circus, Leo asked him to return with George for a visit because your daughter misses you very much, Monsieur, and I fear she will not marry me unless you are present.

  Tears were running down my face when I handed the letter back. “He’s such a wonderful man, Papa. He’s kind and generous and caring of other people.” I wiped the back of my hand across my wet cheeks and sniffed. “He’s just like you.”

  Papa smiled. “Not exactly, little one. He is a very great lord in this country. He has much power. This earl is very much higher in the world than your little circus-owning Papa.”

  “I know that. And I worry that I won’t be a good wife for him. I won’t know how to behave when I have to go to London and meet his friends.”

  Papa cupped my face in his hands. “Do not cry, my little one. All you need to do is be yourself. The earl fell in love with the real you. That is who he wants you to be. Do not ever think of trying to change. The both of us love the girl that you are right now.” He bent his head, kissed the tears on my cheeks and handed me a handkerchief.

  I blew my nose.

  “How is Alonzo?” he asked.

  I brightened instantly and we sat talking for two hours, almost finishing the bottle of wine and all of the pastries. Papa was interested in the position Leo had offered, but worried about what would happen to the circus.

  “Leon has been by your side for years, Papa,” I said. “He could run the circus. You know he could. He ran it when we were at Astley’s, didn’t he?”

  Papa didn’t try to dispute Leon’s capability. Instead he said sadly, “Leon has not the money to buy the circus, Isabel. I have paid him a generous salary, but the circus is worth far more than he could have saved.”

  “You can give him the circus, Papa,” I urged. “Leo will be giving you a house and a big salary. And I may be coming into some money from the estate of my birth father. You won’t need money from Leon. And we will be together!”

  Papa’s eyes bulged. “Give Leon the circus! Are you mad, Isabel? The Cirque Equestre is worth a great deal of money. People all over France wait for us to arrive in their town. We are the big event of their summers. Even the people from the chateaux come to see us. We take in large sums of money.” He shook his head in incredulity. “We are beloved all over France and you want me to give the circus to Leon? Non, that I cannot do.”

  We argued until we had finished the bottle of wine. I plunked my empty glass on the old oak table that sat before the sofa and said, “Fine. Then go back to France and continue with the circus. Obviously you won’t miss me.”

  He was horrified. “Of course I will miss you, little one. I have missed you terribly these last few months when I was in France and you were here. I have missed you more than you will ever know.” Tears glimmered in his eyes. Wine always made Papa sentimental.

  I removed the empty glass from his hand, laid it on the table and took both his hands into mine. “Then stay with me, Papa. Leo has made you a splendid offer. You will be making more money than you ever have, and you won’t have to keep traveling. And the English need your help, Papa. They really are terrible riders.”

  He laughed at that, his beloved face, so deeply lined from the summer suns he had worked under for most of his life, crinkled in the way I loved. “Let me speak to the earl, little one. Then I will make up my mind.”

  Time flew and when the bell rang to alert us to dress for dinner, I was surprised. Papa started for the door, but I put my hand on his arm and held him in place. He looked at me with raised eyebrows.

  I lowered my voice. “Papa, I must warn you. The food here is terrible. I have got used to it a little—when one is hungry any food looks good. But they overcook everything!”

  “That does not sound appetizing,” he said. He looked down at his garments. “How do these people dress? I’m sure I will look very shabby to them, but there is nothing to be done about it.”

  Papa was wearing a dark blue wool coat, fawn-colored breeches and light-brown cotton stockings. He had on his best black leather shoes with the silver buckles. “I have my good blue coat with me, Isabel, and my silk stockings,” he assured me.

  “You will look just fine,” I assured him staunchly. I bit my lip, then decided I had better prepare him for what was to come.

  “You won’t believe the fuss they make about dinner here, Papa. We all dress as if we’re going to the opera and we march into the dining room in a line. It’s quite amusing. And please ignore whatever Aunt Augusta might say. She has no manners.”

  “Aunt Augusta. She is the maiden aunt you mentioned in your letters.”

  “Yes. I think she’ll behave herself. Leo will have spoken to her.”

  I put my hand on the door handle to open it, but Papa stopped me. “Are you sure about this marriage, Isabel? You are not marrying the earl for my sake? There is no need to worry about me, little one. I have money set aside from all the years we have performed. I own the farm. I do not need any of the earl’s money.”

  I smiled at him. “I am marrying him because I love him, Papa. I never dreamed I could love a man as much as I love Leo. If only you would join us here at Camden, I would be the happiest girl in the whole world.”

  “Bien. That is what I wanted to hear. Now, come, let us get dressed for dinner so I can meet this Aunt Augusta.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Papa’s first dinner with the family went well. His English was good enough for him to join the conversation occasionally, and his comments were always resonant with his native good sense. Surprisingly, Aunt Augusta seemed quite taken with him. As we ladies left the table to adjourn to the drawing room, she remarked that it was fortunate I had come into the hands of such an admirable man!

  Two days after Papa’s arrival, Leo mentioned at dinner he would be leaving for London the day after tomorrow. He had some business to attend to and he hoped to be back by early the following week.

  He had said nothing to me about London. I looked at him as he sat there in all his splendid male beauty and thought, He has a mistress in London. Is he going to see her? Is he going to stay with her? If he thinks I will tolerate that kind of behavior he is very much mistaken.

  We ladies retired to the drawing room as usual, but I was so tightly wound I think I would have pinged if someone touched me. Tea was brought in and Aunt Augusta poured. Leo had still not come in nor had Papa. When I asked Robert where they were he said the billiard room. I knew Papa liked to play billiards and normally I would be happy to see my father and my future husband getting acquainted. But not tonight.

  I waited in the drawing room until all the ladies had retired. Then I sent one of the footmen to the billiard room with a written message for Leo. I must speak with you. Come to the drawing room. Alone. I will be waiting.

  I waited for thirty minutes, getting more and more furious. Finally the drawing room door opened and Leo came in. He held up my note. “What is this about, Isabel?”

  I struggled to sound calm as I replied, “I was surprised when you announced tonight you were going to London. I was wondering what kind of business was so important that you had to leave so quickly.”

  He took another step towards me. “I want to consult with my London solicitor about our situation with Mansfield. He is very astute and might be able to find a way out of this guardianship obstacle your brother has thrown up. I also have some friends who might be able to help.”

  It was a very sensible reply. “Will you be staying at your townhouse while you are in London?” I asked, struggling to remain calm.

  “No, I’ll stay at my club. There’s no sense in opening up the townhouse for just a few days.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know if his staying at his club was a good thing or a bad thing.

  His brows lifted. “Why did you want to know about the townhouse?”


  I inhaled deeply. “Because I don’t want you to stay with your mistress.”

  He could not have looked more stunned if I had slapped him across the face. “How do you know about my mistress?”

  “Everyone knows.” I held his gaze and did not blink.

  “Everyone knows?” He was still looking stunned. “Well then,” he demanded, his stunned look turning to anger, “who was idiot enough to tell you?”

  I had no intention of betraying Susan. “That’s not important. What’s important is that I do not want a husband who has a mistress! You need to get rid of her.” I stepped closer and glared up at him. “Is she still living in the house you are paying for?”

  He let out a long breath and with it his anger dissipated. “The other reason I am going to London is to tell Helena that I am to be married and will be breaking off our relationship.”

  This was excellent news, but I still didn’t like the idea of them meeting. “Why can’t you just write to her?”

  “I must speak to her to make certain she has a place to live and enough money to live on once we separate. It would be unkind to let her find out about our marriage from the newspaper.”

  “I hope you’re not planning to sleep with her.”

  His eyes got very blue. “Is that what you were thinking?”

  “I’m French,” I said. “I have a suspicious mind.”

  At that he reached out and pulled me into his arms. “I promise that you will never have to worry about another woman, my darling. You are more than enough woman for me.”