Though he was clearly tired, his gaze was at once very direct and searching. In the pause, Marian thought him expectant. And she was thinking that the fates had intervened-to free her from any obligation to William. But she could not tell Lord Sidley. She could not tell him, for fear of his pity. Her chin rose.
“My lord,” she said urgently and very softly. “About your payment-I would speak with you.”
“Are we not speaking now?” Again she noticed impatiently that the others in the room drew his attention. But when his gaze again sought her face, his look was steady. “I would rather not have the discussion you desire.”
“But it is too much,” she protested.
He smiled. “Should I not determine my own worth?” He gestured rather dismissively toward the portrait. “I expected you to reject the payment, but you mustn’t. Surely you must welcome the provision, and the lieutenant must consider it opportune, with your nuptials so very near.”
Again she thought his manner expectant.
“There has been … a delay,” she admitted, swallowing.
“A delay? How unfortunate for him.” He paused, the smile faded, and then he added carelessly, “The funds are yours. You must dispense with them as you see fit”
“But it really is too much. I haven’t the reputation-”
“You might trust me to assure it.” Though amusement laced his voice, he did not smile. “Where is Lieutenant Reeves this evening?” he asked.
“He has had to return to Portsmouth”
“So soon?” He held her gaze until Marian almost confessed. He married another. He did not want me. But I do not want him. I want—
Again the conversation and activity in the rest of the room distracted him, or perhaps he did not care to be observed in a tete-a-tete with her. They were not private, and they were interrupted.
“You must be very pleased with the portrait then, Sidley?” Edgar asked, joining them with Clara Poole and Lord Vaughn.
“Most emphatically. Who had the thing brought down?”
“M’sister. She thought it might entertain.”
“Indeed. There are few entertainments as diverting as admiring oneself.”
“Lee!” Clara protested, in a manner that Marian thought most warm and familiar. Clara drew a smile from Sidley.
“Miss Ware is to be commended,” he admitted more politely. “Though I might accuse her of flattering me. Clearly she draws too much upon the imagination.”
“I have not yet finished, my lord,” she said.
“Indeed? How long am Ito be worked upon?” Though he asked lightly, Marian thought his gaze a challenge.
“Until she has improved you, Lee!” Clara admonished.
“‘Twill be an age, then,” Sidley commented. “For by definition, ‘tis well nigh impossible to improve upon the best” As Lord Vaughn huffed dismissively, Marian again held Sidley’s gaze, wondering just what he might mean. That he himself could not be bettered, or her rendering of him?
“But I think I must shortly have the piece removed to Sidley House,” he added. “If you are willing to part with it, Miss Ware? The original is, of course, always at your disposal.”
As he gave her a shallow bow, Edgar remarked, “You’ve certainly paid for it an’ all.”
“Thank you,” Sidley said dryly. “Though Miss Ware may claim the painting unfinished, it has eyes, nose, and mouth enough that I confess to feeling somewhat exposed”
As Lord Vaughn huffed once more, Clara said, “She has caught that look.”
Sidley turned to her. “This is not the first time I have been accused of having a ‘look,’” he said. “I note that no one dares define it in my presence”
“But Miss Ware has portrayed it most faithfully, my lord,” Clara teased. “You have only to look!”
“Perhaps Miss Ware will describe her work to me”
“I only paint what I see, Lord Sidley, as I am not gifted with words.”
“I should not have concurred before this afternoon,” he said rather sharply. “Indeed, you have always proved most capable of expressing yourself. I recall one incident in particular, at Aldersham, that spoke volumes for your loquacity.”
As her jaw dropped, he again surveyed the room and its cheerful occupants. He turned abruptly to Vaughn. “I believe we must be off, Vaughn. Clara?” He offered an arm to Clara. As he readied to depart, Marian, who was wishing she had more time or more courage, could only observe him. “Whatever the `look,’ Miss Ware, I acknowledge that you have captured it. You mustn’t mind my ill humor. I am delighted with the portrait. I ask only that you do whatever else you feel you must do to it at Sidley House.”
His manner was dismissive. She could not think of a thing to say.
“I fear we must be going. Formsby,” he said loftily, acknowledging Edgar. And he and his party made their adieus to Katie and Edith.
Marian watched him leave, watched his height and elegantly clad breadth of shoulder depart, with some feeling of despair.
“Did you tell him?” Katie asked, immediately coming to Marian’s side. “Is that why he looked so blue-deviled?”
“Tell him what, Katie?” she asked wearily. She had not said anything she wished to say. And she thought it likely that Clara Poole now had expectations. Yet Sidley had been so very strange …
“Why, that I should not wish to disappoint him. But that I, that is, with Carroll-”
“Katie, I did not speak of you.”
Katie pouted. “What on earth were you discussing, then? All of us could see you, even from across the room-”
“The portrait! Always the portrait! What else would we discuss?”
Katie looked taken aback by her temper.
Marian quickly apologized and fled the room. The news would be out shortly. He would hear in any event. She questioned what she thought to preserve, other than a momentary pride. But to boldly state, “I have been thrown over. I have been jilted,” in front of a roomful of the ton’s well-placed callers, did not appeal.
Only three hours later, even before dinner, two servants arrived from Sidley House with a horse-drawn wagon and instructions to collect “Miss Ware’s painting.” Though startled by the sudden removal, Marian believed she understood Sidley’s preference. She was not assured, however, that the men would take the care they should with the wet oil paint; she did not trust the work, now so near completion, to travel safely. As her aunt and Katie were still dressing for dinner, Marian readied the piece, then summoned a maid and gathered her cloak.
“Marian, what are you about?” Edgar asked, entering the hall just as the painting was being carried out the door.
“I must see this over to Sidley House at Grosvemor Square. I shan’t be gone long. But you mustn’t wait dinner.”
“But see here, I can’t let you run off alone in the evening!”
“I’ve a maid with me, Edgar, and Lady Adeline and Miss Poole are at Sidley House. No one will remark it.”
“All the same..
“Edgar, please. If I go just now, I shall be back before you are all at table.”
Frowning, with some mumbling about the “portrait trade,” Edgar let her go. And Marian swiftly fled to the street, to climb atop the wagon seat and direct the placement of the painting. With the aid of one of the men, she then held it upright for the brief trip to Sidley’s residence.
The town home astonished her, as it was large, beautifully detailed, and not, as Colonel Bassett had implied so many weeks before, “falling to ruin.” As the wagon stopped before the gracefully curved front steps, Marian recalled her mission and stopped staring. Hopping down to the street, she directed the men to hand her the painting. And despite their protests, she said she would see it inside herself. Though she directed the servants around back, one of them insisted on helping her carry the half-length canvas up the steps before leaving Marian alone at the door.
“I am here for-I am here to see Lady Adeline,” she improvised, at once awed by the soaring ceilings and s
tately sculptures in the hall and by the politely inquiring manner of the butler. She guessed she should not have come. But the butler showed her in more hospitably, Marian thought, than an uninvited visitor deserved at the dinner hour. Just seconds later, relieved of her cloak, she was escorted to a drawing room, where her gaze focused disbelievingly on the exquisite Holbein portrait over the mantel.
“Sidley’s father purchased it more than thirty years ago, before his wedding,” Lady Adeline told her, following her rapt gaze. The lady was dressed most elegantly. Perhaps they meant to go out. “There are not that many of them,” she added.
“No,” Marian breathed. “No” She swallowed. “Forgive me, ma’am, for the intrusion. But Lord Sidley sent for his portrait, and I found I did not trust entirely that it would travel safely. Shall I just leave it here?” She moved to stand the painting in its traveling frame against a side table. Above that same side table hung another dreamlike Claude landscape. In the presence of so much beauty Marian felt nearly numbed.
“You are most attentive, my dear,” Lady Adeline said. “Though I assure you, the men are accustomed to transporting paintings.”
“Yes. I can see that must indeed be the case.” Marian eyed the drawing room’s blue velvet drapes, dark walls, and extensive white and gilt moldings. In the fading evening sun the gold details reflected the light, making luminous the treasured oil paintings-as though they were aglow.
“This house is beautiful,” she breathed, “Not `falling to ruins’ at all.”
“‘Falling to ruins’! I should say not. Though Sidley has had to set some crews of plasterers and painters to work. Why on earth would you think otherwise?”
“I meant no affront, my lady. Colonel Bassett said-”
“Colonel Bassett, that old meddler! A most disappointed man, Miss Ware, who lost one very fine son and is left with the other, who is, perhaps, not as fine. But all of us have had disappointments. ‘Tis no reason to cast aspersions.”
“No, ma’am.”
“Am I not permitted to see it then, Miss Ware?” Lady Adeline asked, gesturing toward Marian’s portrait. “I understand you have been working since I last saw it.”
“Certainly.” Marian quickly leaned to unwrap the painting and free it from the embracing frame.
“Yes.” Lady Adeline eyed it intently. “It is wonderful. You are pleased?”
“I am, my lady. Though there are still details I should like to finish.” She smiled. “But surely the question is whether Lord Sidley is pleased?”
Lady Adeline returned the smile. “He would not have sent for it were he not pleased. Though his urgency does mystify…”
“I believe he chose not to have it, as a proxy for himself, attract such public scrutiny.”
Lady Adeline lips twitched. “Did he not? How unusual.” Again she studied the portrait. “It is excellent, Miss Ware. Beautifully composed and most professionally rendered. I must confess, though, to a slight preference for the other.”
“The other?”
“The watercolor sketch.”
“That was very quick…
“Whatever the method, it is perfect. Sidley is having it framed.”
“Oh” Marian stood for a second at a loss for words. She had been fond of the watercolor. She had thought at first to keep it as a remembrance of Sidley. But she’d determined that retaining his company, in any form, was inadvisable.
“Your lessons do not continue much longer, I suppose, Miss Ware?” his aunt asked. “Surely you are now qualified to give them?”
Marian smiled and shook her head. “It will take me many years to feel I master even a fraction of so much. But I shall probably continue with my tutors for another month at least. Until I depart with my cousins for Bath and their house at Enderby.”
“You go to Bath with them? But surely Edith said-I believe your young lieutenant is expected to return shortly?”
“He has already returned, ma’am. Returned and departed” As Lady Adeline frowned, Marian breathed almost in relief. She was not comfortable with dissembling. “Lieutenant Reeves has married another, my lady. He was just in town yesterday to tell me. I am no longer betrothed”
“No longer-but, my dear, this is appalling!”
“‘Tis rather unsettling for me, certainly.”
“But I mean, it is not done! ‘Tis unconscionable behavior, and most hurtful.”
Marian smiled. “I fear Lieutenant Reeves is beyond caring.”
“You are too understanding, Miss Ware. You are not angry?”
“I am resentful, ma’am. I would have wished to end the engagement myself.”
“Indeed?” Lady Adeline’s glance was sharp. “‘Twas not a love match?”
“William was a friend of long-standing, my lady. My affections have been his for so many years that I cannot recall when I did not believe them fixed. I had thought such sufficient for marriage.”
“It can be. It can be, my dear. But for one of your nature…” Her voice softened. “I have loved only one man in my life, Miss Ware. ‘Tis no secret. I lost him at Guildford Courthouse-in the Carolina colonies-more than thirty years ago. There has never been another.”
“I am sorry to hear that, my lady. He must have been extraordinary.”
“Extraordinary? Yes, I thought him so. And together, I believe-perhaps we were extraordinary together.” She rallied, clearing her throat. “So, you are no longer betrothed. What of your situation? What shall you do with yourself? Take more commissions for portraits?”
“I shall try to attract them, though I keep a home with my cousins.” As Lady Adeline frowned once more, Marian said quickly, “I have intruded long enough here this evening, my lady. I see that you are going out. I shall take my leave” She bobbed and turned to go, but Lady Adeline came closer.
“Stay. Do stay, Miss Ware” If it were possible for so formidable a lady to look uncertain, Lady Adeline did. “We do not go out until after dinner. Will you not stay and join us? We have time to send a note ‘round to Edith.”
“I thank you, but I should not. I really only came because I was concerned-” As she glanced again at the portrait, Lady Adeline followed her gaze. For some seconds the two of them contemplated Sidley.
“Do you know what it is you have painted?” Lady Adeline asked at last. “I wonder if you do. Despite all the sadness in this family, he is determined to see it-the joy in life. He will not surrender it. ‘Tis why others are attracted to him. Like moths to flame! He is not all shallow amusements and clowning about, Miss Ware. Though he was out all last night again. And here I thought he had settled” She spoke so reprovingly that Marian was moved to defend Sidley.
“There was an accident last night, ma’am. Fatal to one gentleman. I believe Lord Sidley lent a hand”
“Well, yes, he would, would he not? Though he never says a word to me, mind you. I am never out without an explanation.”
“No, ma’am.” Despite all, Marian could not hide her smile.
Lady Adeline observed her closely. “Tell me, Miss Ware, has your cousin Lady Katherine chosen Carroll?”
“I believe Lord Carroll interests her at the moment, ma’am. Though there is no understanding…
“You needn’t be so careful, my dear. I assure you, my nephew’s heart is not engaged. Though I had hopes. I now believe his interest fixed in another quarter.”
“Oh” Marian backed up two steps. “Please excuse me now, my lady-”
“Clara will be disappointed.”
“Do convey my apologies.”
“I think I shall enjoy having her at Aldersham, particularly if events unfold as I anticipate.”
Marian’s misery left her mute. She feared that the others might be down at any moment and again quickly bobbed a curtsey.
“Miss Ware, does Sidley know of Lieutenant Reeves’s departure?”
Marian shook her head.
“You have not forgiven him?”
“Forgiven Lord Sidley, my lady?”
“For
the misapprehension, for that silly hum about his state of health. He was never so done in. Edith told me all of you knew.”
“Yes, my lady.” Marian’s chin rose. “Though ‘tis very difficult to excuse such a hoax. His purpose still eludes me. I suppose no lasting harm has been done. Yet to devise such a deception, for any reason, much less his own entertainment-”
“Oh, but it was not Sidley’s devising, my dear. He attempts to protect my reputation by withholding the truth. ‘Twas my own doing. Not purposely, of course,” she added at Marian’s incredulous expression. “I sincerely thought him dead to me, or certainly nearly so. I was not entirely myself, Miss Ware, when I first saw him so ill. So very pale-laid out like a corpse! I have seen too many. And once the mistaken belief had circulated, we found it `nigh impossible to counter. You must never permit yourself to become an object of speculation, Miss Ware. ‘Tis a most unfortunate position.”
“Such things cannot be helped, ma’am,” Marian sighed. “My own position, with Lieutenant Reeves …”
Lady Adeline considered her. “If you should marry another, ‘twill hardly be noted.”
“I have been painting, my lady.” Marian tried to smile. “I have not been accumulating prospects.”
“No, no, of course not” Lady Adeline appeared to muse. “But weddings are such happy events. I am delighted to think that Clara shall at last be part of the family.”
“Indeed?” Marian felt faint. “I like her very much. When is the-have they picked a day?”
“About six weeks from today, in early August, I believe. It is not enough time, but Richard is, of course, most enthusiastic, and her father has not objected.”
Lord Sidley's Last Season Page 16