Page 10 of A Deal with an Artistic Lady (Marriage Deals #2)

Refreshed and in good spirits following her correspondence with Sophia, Hannah entered the large formal dining room where Anne stood poised by the fireplace, Caleb stood to attention by a window and Emmeline sat on a piano stool, tinkling a few notes idly. For a fretful moment, Hannah feared she may be late – but knew she had arrived a few minutes earlier than her mother-in-law had requested. She noted to herself that this was a family who had a propensity toward earliness and she would ensure she was always running way ahead of schedule for future events.

The incredible painting mounted above the fireplace again caught Hannah’s attention – this time it was lit differently due to the roaring fire below it. She saw different shadows and hues than she had previously and it suddenly lent itself as a viable conversation piece.

‘I do so love that beautiful painting!’ Hannah remarked as she joined her mother-in-law by the hearth.

Anne turned with an audible grunt ‘My husband chose the artwork in this house. If it were my choice, I prefer blank painted walls and wood panelling.’

Hannah noticed a look exchanged between Caleb and his sister – she appreciated the sentiment displayed in their cynicism and hoped perhaps to one day be included in their repartee.

The door swung open to reveal the Butler announcing the imminent arrival of the Fairfax family.

‘Show them through, Carterton,’ the Dowager Duchess instructed.

Emmeline enthusiastically joined Hannah and Anne at the fireplace and Caleb reluctantly took steps in that same direction, seeming weary.

The energy transformed instantly as a buxom woman swept into the room, immediately taking ownership of the space with her flowing colourful gown and almost visible cloud of dusky perfume. Her thick brown hair was piled high upon her head and blusher too liberally applied upon a face that was quite attractive, if not a little plump.

She was followed by a gregarious, thin, suited man who smiled around the room in a lively manner, taking in all people present in a brisk, efficient, friendly assessment.

Lord Edward and Lady Beatrice Fairfax - Hannah established quite promptly - came from a long line of generations of aristocratic privilege. They emanated a confidence and wealth that was innate and not cultivated.

Hannah looked to the door, expecting to see their young daughter following and felt oddly confronted to see not a small child appear, but a young lady of a similar age to Hannah herself.

Lucinda Fairfax seemed to move as if skating on ice – she was flawlessly graceful and her shining flaxen hair cascaded down her back in perfectly formed ringlets. Her face was pale yet radiant with a natural glow and the colour applied to her smiling lips accentuated her clear, bright blue eyes.

Lucinda reminded Hannah of a girl she used to know in school, by the name of Madeline. She had shone with natural beauty; just like Lucinda, she had piercing blue eyes that convinced the teachers she was innocent and honest. Her long, silky hair was practically white, it was so blonde and the sun always seemed to hit it at an angle that bounced light onto the walls around her. It seemed to Hannah that was how Madeline lived her life – in a spotlight, drawing attention wherever she went.

Hannah realised in adulthood that she must have always been staring at Madeline with admiration because she could now recall how Madeline looked in every possible mood, outfit, or scenario; her eyes must have captured those moments with fervent watching.

Hannah thought perhaps just once, how it would be gratifying to look like Madeline, but looking like her was not her fixation – she wanted to paint Madeline. The more she looked at this beautiful girl, created so perfectly, the more she imagined how she might mix the yellow and white to produce the exact colour of Madeline’s hair and wondered if she could match it precisely.

But it was not an entirely fortunate situation because Madeline was a spiteful child. She had once caught a spider and put it in Hannah’s hair. She was known to pinch the other children and blame it on some other innocent bystander. She lied, often, and because of her pure blue eyes and flawless appearance, the teachers never once suspected her of wrong-doing. Hannah’s fixation diminished once she learned how vindictive Madeline was; suddenly the girl did not look so beautiful anymore.

As Hannah watched the alluring Lady Lucinda Fairfax float into the drawing room, she wondered if this beauty, too, possessed a malevolence. That had sadly been Hannah’s experience of exquisitely attractive people and it set her on a vibe of cynicism. She hoped that Lucinda was as kind as her superficial appearance suggested – they were similar in age and perhaps might become friends.

Hannah watched as the old companions greeted one another and realised moments later that she must have been gawping at the young lady, astonished by her level of beauty. Quickly snapping herself from the reverie, Hannah looked to Caleb, quite sure he too would be staring in awe at the stunning specimen of femininity who had graced the room with her presence.

But he was not. Caleb was staring at Hannah and there was an intensity to his gaze. Caleb had seen how Hannah had been overwhelmed by the young lady and he felt fiercely protective of her at that moment – it wounded him to see her face of disappointment; knowing that she felt inferior and compared herself unfairly.

Hannah started slightly to see Caleb looking at her so intently but was summoned back into the action as Anne unexpectedly linked arms with her, pulling her closely in, and introducing her to their guests.

‘But you haven’t met my daughter-in-law! Her Grace, Hannah, Duchess of Montwood! She and my son were married just yesterday, but of course, you will have heard the news…!’

Hannah floundered – this was the first time Anne had shown any semblance of warmth or welcome. It was the only time she had referred to Hannah with any kind of title and it seemed as though she announced her with something resembling pride.

Hannah stepped forward dutifully, extending her hand and curtseying, firstly as Lord Edward Fairfax was introduced and kissed her hand, then as she met Lady Beatrice Fairfax and they exchanged curtsies and then faced with the beautiful young woman…

‘Lady Lucinda Fairfax!’ Anne sang as if she were announcing a member of royalty.

Hannah curtsied and they exchanged pleasantries regarding how lovely it was to make each others’ acquaintance.

It all suddenly made sense to Hannah – how Anne had spoken so highly of Lucinda over breakfast and how Caleb had whisked her away so she didn’t have to hear it. Lucinda was not some darling infant child – Lucinda was the lady who Anne clearly hoped would have been Caleb’s wife.

With a facade of smiles, Lucinda’s eyes roamed Hannah’s face, as if figuring out what it was there that had claimed Hannah the Duke of Montwood as her husband. Hannah dipped her eyes, knowing she would be considered inadequate. She cursed herself internally as she felt her face blushing. She felt certain that Caleb would have had romantic ideals about Lucinda – he had declared to her himself that their union was purely a formality. Here, Hannah decided, was the woman who rightfully should have been his wife.

Hannah’s mind went into fantastical prophesy – Caleb would escort Hannah with a solemn arm to a formal dance and abandon her with some stuffy business colleagues while he sneaked off to find the glorious Lucinda in some blossoming garden, where they would passionately kiss under a magnolia tree. Caleb would cradle his true love in his arms, lamenting about the torturous partnership he was obliged to uphold with Hannah – how she was a bore and so ugly in comparison to Lucinda, who dazzled him with her beauty.

Hannah wanted only to turn from the room and run to her bedchamber, but she had a role to perform and a reputation to uphold.

The old friends had much to discuss, although it seemed to Hannah all rather superficial and nothing of any great depth was discussed, but all the same, it allowed her to sit in relative silence as they ate meat and potatoes in butter sauce.

Lucinda turned her attention to Hannah after a while and asked ‘How do you choose to pass the time, Your Grace?’

Bathed in the glorious light of Lucinda’s attention, it was a struggle not to be dazzled by her, but Hannah also skeptically noted that Lucinda’s well-prepared smile tremored a little, betraying her forced effort. She was trying to engage Hannah but her agenda was undefined; it may be a gesture of kindness to include Hannah in their conversation or it may be a method of extracting information on her competitor.

Hannah had not expected this line of questioning and had not prepared a response. Her mind instantly landed upon ‘painting’ but she looked over at Caleb, as if for assistance and she saw in his eyes a flash of alarm.

He must surely know of her painting activities – having offered her the studio which lent itself so perfectly to the activity and through chatter from their mutual friends – although they had never explicitly spoken about it. Certainly, he had not shown any interest in seeing her work and she had not overtly told him she was a painter.

Hannah knew, through decades of concealing her guilty secret, that to cite Art as her passion at their first dinner entertaining would not be advisable. She opted for a safer reply.

‘I love literature. I was quite delighted to discover my husband’s extensive library earlier today!’

Even as she said it, Hannah noticed the way she had framed Caleb as my husband – almost as though she were laying claim to him, warning Lucinda away from her territory. It struck her as strange to experience this feeling of possession over somebody she barely knew.

‘Oh yes – I have seen the Duke’s library. Isn’t it quite exquisite!’ Lucinda giggled forcibly and looked over at Caleb with a flicker of her eyelashes.

‘And is it literature which inspires you also, Lady Lucinda?’ Hannah attempted to ignore the flirtatious manner in which Lucinda had engaged with her husband.

‘Regrettably, I find books quite a bore!’ Lucinda laughed as though her confession might be endearing. ‘I prefer to sing and play the piano…’ Lucinda smiled at all those assembled around the table, telling them something they, of course, already knew.

Hannah noticed how Lucinda bobbed her head much more than was necessary as she spoke, causing her ringlets to dance about her pretty face. She felt quite sure it was intentional and could not quite understand why she found it so irritating. Once she had noticed it, she felt compelled to check for it every time Lucinda spoke.

‘Do you sing, or play piano, Hannah?’ Anne asked boldly and Hannah stilled as everybody at the table paused in their eating to hear her response.

Anne already knew the answer to this question and as a result, Hannah concluded with absolute certainty that she had posed it exclusively to humiliate Hannah. She saw Caleb bristle and shoot his mother an inhospitable glare.

‘I do not,’ Hannah replied, with confidence. ‘I am not musical. I have more appreciation of the arts – in fact, I will be taking in an art gallery later this week.’

Caleb raised one eyebrow, impressed at Hannah’s diversion of the vitriol, and resumed paying attention to his plate of food.

‘Wonderful!’ exclaimed Lady Beatrice charitably.

‘I find art galleries a bore, don’t you, Lady Lucinda?’ Anne droned.

Lucinda looked quite uncomfortable and glanced between Anne and Hannah as if hoping somebody might say something to help her out. Eventually, she laughed;

‘Oh, Your Grace, I do believe we are kindred spirits, for I too cannot bear an art gallery!’ Lucinda giggled adorably as she bobbed her irritating ringlets about and all the table laughed with her, with the exception of Hannah, Caleb, and Emmeline who watched the scene play out with abashment.

Hannah averted her eyes, shrinking her shoulders inwards, hoping to become invisible and for the meal to come to an end. Caleb watched her with sympathy – Hannah hadn’t asked to be in this awkward predicament and neither, he believed, would she have chosen it. He felt responsible for this public humiliation and experienced a strong urge to involve himself somehow, but found a combination of defensiveness and humility an impossible balance to achieve.

Finishing their meal, Caleb and Edward retired to a parlour room and the ladies retreated to the drawing room. Anne was keen to ensure Lucinda and Beatrice were comfortable, offering scatter cushions and requesting a maid to light the fire. Hannah, in contrast, perched upon the edge of a seat, with no attention paid at all to her level of comfort.

As Anne, Beatrice and Lucinda crowed raucously over some source of common ground, Emmeline looked over at Hannah with a small smile and discreetly sidled closer to her.

‘Tell me, Hannah, have you yet borrowed any of the books from Caleb’s extensive library?’ she spoke quietly, eager to make the conversation private from the others joining in.

‘I have – a book on Fine Art,’ Hannah smiled, understanding that Emmeline was attempting to help her relax.

‘You are very fond of art, are you not?’

Hannah nodded.

‘Do you know my father once bid me paint a picture of our cat, Sigmund. He commented that it looked as though I had spilled the paint pot – poor Sigmund was nothing but a large brown blot on the page!’ Emmeline laughed self-deprecatingly and Hannah joined her, grateful for her inclusion.

‘Does Sigmund the cat still live here?’ Hannah asked. ‘I do not believe I have seen a cat around the house?’

‘Sadly, he passed the same year as my father. A very sad year,’ Emmeline looked down and fiddled with her skirts in her lap.

‘My most heartfelt condolences…’

Emmeline smiled her thanks.

‘I wondered if we might replace Sigmund with another cat,’ Emmeline continued ‘he was a fantastic ratter! Mother rejected my request, unfortunately – she prefers an animal-free environment.’

‘Did you ever try to paint anything other than Sigmund?’ Hannah wondered.

‘I can’t say I did, in honesty.’

‘If you were interested,’ Hannah ventured, ‘I could show you some methods of painting that would help you to improve…?’

Emmeline’s’ eyes lit up for a moment ‘Oh..!’

Her smile faded and she looked tellingly over at the Dowager Duchess.

‘I shouldn’t think Mother would approve…’ Emmeline flashed an apologetic look at Hannah.

Hannah smiled sadly, dipping her head in understanding. She inferred that Emmeline’s tentative insinuation was that Hannah should tread carefully with regard to her involvement in Art. Hannah sensed difficulties ahead.

***

In the parlour room, Caleb poured two generous glasses of brandy and handed one to Edward, who swilled the golden liquid around the bowl of the glass.

Caleb breathed in the sweet, heady aroma of the alcohol as they both settled into large wing-backed armchairs adjacent to the fire that had been lit in advance by the Butler and had already warmed the room. As he breathed out, Caleb allowed his back to sink into the upholstery of the chair, permitting himself time where he didn’t need to stand on ceremony for the ladies, not think about any of the week’s stressful events. Here he was with an old friend of his father’s, in whose company he felt able to relax.

‘Significant debates taking place in parliament, aren’t they?’ Edward breathed deep into his glass and took a sip of brandy.

‘The agricultural tariffs? Quite! Do you think they will be passed?’

‘I certainly do. Lord Asquith has been strongly vocal in our constituency and he has a direct connection with Lord Liverpool. With such a majority of landowners within parliament, it should make perfect sense that it will be approved.’ Edward often spoke with his eyes closed – as though his thoughts required his full attention.

‘Do you have many crops on your land?’ Caleb enquired.

‘An abundance! And you?’

‘Several acres of corn in fields surrounding the Montwood country estate,’ Caleb advised.

Caleb’s mind went to the country estate – there was so much land there to maintain and he ran a staff of many men. As he sipped at his brandy, he thought about how he had to prioritise visiting the estate soon and checking up on the land and staff there. It would be a good opportunity to introduce Hannah to the country house and for the staff to meet their new mistress. They would make a weekend of it or possibly visit for a week to make the journey worthwhile. He wondered if Hannah should enjoy long walks in the countryside as he did.

There really was so much land – he thought about how he ought to sell some of it off and had considered doing so recently. However, if he waited for the corn laws to potentially be placed, the value of the land would inevitably increase and this would be a far more lucrative time to sell. He decided he would hold on to the land a while longer.

‘Of course! I remember your father executing a tour of the estate some years back. Ample land with thriving crops! I daresay you are most certainly in favour of the corn laws?’ Edward chuckled.

‘I am. Although one must also consider; with tariffs on imported crops, the prices will be driven upwards to benefit landowners, but there are of course the poor unfortunates who can scarcely feed their family bread at its current price, let alone when the cost increases…’ Caleb raised his eyebrow, testing to see whether his compatriot would demonstrate compassion or disregard for the lower classes.

‘There is that, indeed,’ Edward nodded, thoughtfully.

Satisfied that Edward had not neglected this contemplation, Caleb swigged back his brandy and offered Edward another.

***

After some time, when Hannah had stifled a yawn and hoped the tiresome conversation might soon come to an end and their guests would take leave, the Duke and Lord Fairfax rejoined the ladies in the drawing room. They both held a glass of brandy and raucously laughed as they entered. Hannah thought how rare it was to see Caleb laughing heartily – it was good to see, but also reminded her how the Montwoods would prefer Lord Edward Fairfax as Caleb’s father-in-law and not the rather serious and impenetrable Lord Vincent Haworth. It seemed each moment that lifted Hannah was quickly pursued by an uncharitable thought that would dampen her mood further still.

‘Gentlemen! How merry you are! What tales have caused you such generous spirits?’ sung Lady Beatrice Fairfax.

‘Nothing you must concern yourself with,’ Edward responded in jest.

‘Lucinda; you must play the pianoforte to delight us all!’ Anne clapped her hands together at her own idea.

Lucinda had the grace to at least look bashful; glancing at Hannah as if checking whether this would be acceptable but not pausing there long enough to determine either way.

‘Oh, you don’t want to hear me!’ Lucinda protested; a delicate hand to her chest, but she was already standing and making her way toward the instrument in the corner of the room.

‘Of course, we do, don’t we, Caleb?’ Anne encouraged and looked over at her son pointedly.

Hannah watched as Caleb shifted uncomfortably, unwilling to respond. Nobody else in the room noticed his lack of reply as they were jostling into positions to enjoy Lucinda’s performance.

It was clear to Hannah that Lucinda had prepared for this opportunity or otherwise had a familiar repertoire she called upon for such occasions, as she did not ponder a moment to decide what to play. She launched instantly into a song that was vaguely familiar to Hannah.

Lucinda did indeed play beautifully – Anne had not exaggerated. Hannah noticed how her long blonde hair swung down her back, swaying in motion to match the rhythm of the tune. Hannah felt as though Lucinda’s display only accentuated her own lack of musical talent. This being her debut evening as Caleb’s wife, it should probably be expected that she might be the one to play; if she had known how or had any talent in that department.

Lucinda then began to sing, to accompany the tune and her audience shifted in appreciation – her voice was a clear, sweet soprano and Hannah experienced a pit of envy in her stomach. She generally hated to compare herself to others, but knowing that everybody in the room was scrutinizing her and must be finding her wanting, Hannah could not help the dark self-assessment that consumed her mind.

As Lucinda’s slim fingers danced effortlessly across the keys, Caleb turned his attention away to consider Hannah’s face as she watched. The edges of her mouth twitched with the attempt of a smile - to placate the others in the room, he’d wager. But the smile did not reach her eyes, which brimmed with sadness. His mother had been successful in causing Hannah to feel inadequate and ashamed. He felt a surge of anger regarding this situation that was being allowed to play out in his own drawing room and resolved that he needed to be more instrumental in protecting Hannah from this sort of degradation at the hands of his mother.

Sensing the weight of his stare, Hannah looked over to Caleb fleetingly and saw him watching her before he stole his glance back away. She concluded he was thinking how deficient she was as a wife, in stark comparison to this skilled beauty his mother had transported here to demonstrate what a true Duchess should look like.

Cursing himself that Hannah had caught him watching her, Caleb fixed his eyes once again upon their performer. He had heard Lucinda play this tune many a time before – it seemed she played and sang just three tunes quite excellently but did not dare to venture outside of her comfort zone in playing others. He knew she lived her life in the same vein; she had a pony named Simeon, but only petted him and wouldn’t dare learn to ride. She lived prettily, safely, predictably and Caleb found her quite dull. There was nothing interesting about Lady Lucinda Fairfax. He silently thanked his father that it had not been Lord Fairfax with whom he had made the marital agreement.