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What was left to paint when it seemed as if all the color had drained from her life?

“Your Grace.”

She turned to look at Jane and managed a weak smile. “Please convey my gratitude to the Duchess, but I would much rather stay in my rooms today, as I am currently indisposed.”

Her maid looked at her so sorrowfully that Evie felt as if her heart might break all over again. In all their years together, Jane had never looked at her with such pity.

I suppose I do look rather pitiful now.

“Actually, it is not Her Grace that wishes to see you,” the maid murmured. “You have a guest, Your Grace.”

“A guest?”

Evie stood up, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Could it be him? Had Daniel finally come for her after he settled the accounts with Lord Sidmouth and everyone else?

“A Mr. Turner, Your Grace,” Jane replied politely. “He claims an acquaintance and that he is here to offer guidance.”

The hope that soared dizzily in Evie’s heart crashed down.

“Oh.” She smiled bitterly and shook her head. “I do not suppose I am in the condition to be entertaining callers at this time, Jane.”

“He also said that you were going to say that,” the maid replied with a bewildered look. “But he also said to tell you that he was sent by His Grace.”

“Colin?”

The maid shook her head. “Your husband, Your Grace—the Duke of Ashton.”

Your husband.

It was Daniel.

Daniel had sent Mr. Turner to her.

Evie tilted her head to the side and smiled at Jane. “Perhaps I should get ready to meet Mr. Turner, then.”

Mr. Turner looked as he always did, although Evie felt as if she had aged decades since they last met.

When she walked into the parlor, he stood up, and the sight of his stained cuffs made her smile a little.

“Please forgive me for my lack of hospitality, Mr. Turner,” she apologized. “I have been… currently indisposed.”

There was a twinkle in the artist’s eyes as he looked at her with a sympathetic smile.

“Your Grace is much too polite,” he said kindly. “His Grace had mentioned that I might be able to lift your spirits with a few lessons.”

It was as if someone had taken a knife, plunged it into her chest, and then cruelly twisted it.

“His Grace?” she managed to choke out.

Mr. Turner nodded. “I sought you out at Ashton Hall, as His Grace has previously asked me to discuss painting with you and maybe exchange a few tips.”

“He said so?”

“His Grace is quite supportive of your passion for painting.”

Evie sat down as if in a trance. “Yes, it would appear so.”

Mr. Turner smiled as he sat down opposite her. “Now, you must forgive this old man’s bluntness, but your maid has informed me that you are currently… not given to painting at the moment.”