Page 12 of A Deal with an Artistic Lady (Marriage Deals #2)

Hannah squeezed Sophia’s hand in excitement as they walked through the doors to the gallery, with Lucy and Sophia’s lady’s maid, Bethany, in their wake.

‘I can literally smell the paint!’ Hannah beamed. It had been such an acute relief to have stepped out of the Montwood household that morning. Sitting with the Dowager Duchess at breakfast had been increasingly awkward as the woman would not even look at her and it felt clear to Hannah that Caleb had been made aware of his mother’s behaviour since he did not engage her in conversation and made a noticeable effort with Hannah.

She wondered if he would confront his mother about her unacceptable behaviour, or if he would simply prescribe her silent treatment as punishment. The ultimate fear was if he agreed with her that an art studio was a frivolous and inappropriate use of space – this provoked heart palpitations in Hannah that her beautiful new gift might be stolen away from her.

She pushed thoughts of Montwood to one side – this was to be her day for indulging in something that made her happy and no cantankerous old Duchess was going to stand in her way.

As they entered the main hall, Hannah noted the familiar hushed voices of interested intonation and respectable comments. The only other sound was the gentle shushing of expensive fabrics upon the skirts of grand ladies touring the gallery. Hannah soaked it all up. When visiting a gallery, she loved all aspects – mostly the Art, itself, but additionally, the quiet and respectable manner with which the people moved through the room. The calm and tranquillity serving to placate any stresses that may have been brought in from the outside. The freedom to stand and observe for as long as she liked – there was no rush here; no pressure.

‘There is my cousin!’ Sophia grabbed at Hannah’s arm ‘Let us go and greet him!’

Hannah was reluctant to leave the painting she had paused at but reasoned that she could return and in fact spend as long as she liked admiring it later on. She looked over to where Sophia indicated, to see Nathaniel standing across the room, intently describing something to an old couple who seemed enthralled by him.

Sophia took Hannah’s hand and whisked her across the room. As Nathaniel’s eyes landed on Hannah, a spark appeared in his expression and a genuine smile graced his face.

‘Ah! Lady Hannah Haworth, the artist!!’ Nathaniel bowed dramatically, making Hannah blush.

For a moment, she thought perhaps she should correct him – that she was now a Duchess; that her title had changed. This was not something she had considered previously, nor had the situation yet arisen. It felt important that Nathaniel should know – both as a friend and also to draw the formal boundary where he might otherwise be a little flirtatious, as was his fun nature. However, it felt inappropriate and pompous. She did not expect friends to address her more formally, though she knew there would be formal occasions where they would do so. The concept was unfamiliar and unnerving, so she opted not to correct Nathaniel on this occasion.

‘Dearest cousin,’ he kissed Sophia’s hand ‘thank you for bringing along true talent in the form of your best friend!’

Hannah and Sophia laughed together at Nathaniel’s fawning.

‘How are you faring, cousin?’ Sophia enquired.

‘Exceedingly well! It is not yet noon and we have received so many viewers through the doors. A wealthy couple have expressed an interest in buying the most expensive landscape we are exhibiting today and in fact, I have my sights set on this very picture here…’ Nathaniel gestured to a small painting behind him and then looked to Hannah avidly for her opinion.

Hannah stepped forward to appraise the painting of a dog, which was dark in colour but demonstrated great depth.

Peering closely, she observed; ‘It is not a piece that would initially catch my eye, however upon closer inspection, there is intricate detail applied to the strokes to depict the dog’s hair quite realistically…’

Behind her, Nathaniel and Sophia giggled good naturedly.

‘He is jesting with you, Hannah!’ Sophia laughed ‘This is Nathaniel’s own painting of his loyal dog, Cherubin!’

Hannah turned, embarrassed in case she had offended the Viscount, but he was smiling.

‘I am honoured that an artist such as yourself appraised it with such positivity!’

Hannah peered back at the painting and saw Nathaniel’s name scrawled discreetly in one corner – it was indeed his own work.

Hannah clutched her palm to her chest ‘How fortunate I did not insult your work! Oh, but it is very good, my Lord!’

‘Thank you, Lady Hannah,’ he said again and she did not correct him.

‘Oh, look…!’ Sophia noticed a striking landscape hanging on a wall through an archway and left the two of them as she felt drawn toward it.

‘Have you brought any of your art along with you today?’ Nathaniel asked Hannah, keenly.

‘I have not…’

‘What a sore disappointment! I am so eager to view it for myself after the wonderful sentiments my cousin has expressed regarding your creations!’

As Nathaniel and Hannah engaged in further conversation, Sophia stood adrift at the large painting, admiring the undulating sway of the hills under her gaze. She did not hear anybody approach but a low, warm voice commented close to her ear;

‘Stunning, is it not?’

Sophia turned quickly, to see Albert standing beside her with a mischievous smile on his face. He looked fleetingly at her and then returned his attention to the painting.

Sophia composed herself. ‘It reminds me of my family’s estate in the country…it fills me with such nostalgia for happy childhood days in the sunshine!’ Sophia’s eyes twinkled as she reminisced.

‘Then you have beautiful land, for this is exquisite! Where is your country estate located?’

‘In the county of Gloucestershire…’

Albert stepped forward to review the name in the corner of the painting and narrowing his eyes, declared ‘As I thought – this piece is by Lord Harold Withering-Downs. He resides in Gloucestershire most of the time. Lady Camden, you certainly know your hillsides!’

‘Is that really so? It is actually Gloucestershire?’ Sophia felt quite impressed by herself.

‘I find these strokes quite hypnotic…’ Albert pointed out the rushes that had been brusquely applied in oil in the foreground of the grassy land. ‘Almost as though you could see them bending in the breeze. If you squint a little-’ he shuffled closer to Sophia as if to coerce her movement, then squeezed his eyes half-closed ‘you can see them, am I correct? The optics are quite remarkable – the brushstrokes encourage movement in our viewing of the piece!’

Sophia turned to Albert with a mock confrontational stance.

‘Lord Dutton, I daresay you are a secretive art fanatic!’

Albert looked at her with a vulnerability in his eyes, as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

‘I must confess somewhat of a passion for Art…’ he blushed and Sophia was quite taken aback by his unexpected bashfulness.

‘I cultivated this interest during my tour of Europe, aged eighteen. Have you visited Italy or France, Lady Camden?’

‘I have only frequented Bergerac and Bordeaux – but mostly for the vineyards my parents were eager to visit. I regret I have not indulged in exposure to their plethora of fine art…’

‘Oh, but it opened my eyes to an entirely new world!’ Albert enthused and Sophia found his exuberance invigorating. How this handsome, confident, rakish young man had such a refined passion was quite refreshing. Sophia felt a little sad he did not feel that he could express his passions more publicly but felt equally privileged that he was choosing to share with her.

She watched his face as he continued to tell her about the sculptures he encountered in his tour and the artists he watched with fascination as they worked alongside rivers. She was captivated.

‘But here I am going on…’ Albert said and looked at Sophia apologetically. ‘Tell me – what is it you enjoy about this painting here before us?’

‘Oh…’ Sophia considered it and as she did so, Albert studied the softness of her skin and how her cheeks had developed a rosiness during their conversation.

‘The undulating contours of this hill-observe how, upon closer inspection, the artist has employed a softening effect to evoke the essence of moorland. This technique implies the presence of heather and a more rugged landscape, in contrast to the gentle, sweeping hills characteristic of more verdant regions…’

Albert smiled at her, enjoying this common ground they had stumbled upon.

‘I daresay you, too, have a passion for Art, Lady Camden?’

‘I do not hide it, Lord Dutton. Why, my most indulgent pastime is to sit and watch my best friend as she paints – I find it so relaxing. She is a true talent.’

‘Might I find any of your friend’s work here?’ Albert cast his eye around the gallery.

‘Oh no, she does not exhibit. Although she should! Oh – of course, you know her! Why, my best friend is Lady Hannah Haworth, recently married-’

‘The Duchess of Montwood! Of course! But I did not know she painted?’

‘She does – beautifully!’

‘Is my esteemed friend, her husband, the Duke, aware?’

‘I am quite sure he must be, Lord Dutton.’

‘Do you collect Art, yourself, Lady Camden?’ Albert drew the attention back to Sophia, not wishing to talk about their friends as much as he wanted to know about her.

‘I only have a few, though I am always searching for something special. I would not invest in a piece that had not entirely captured my heart. You know my cousin, Nathaniel has recently procured an original Sir Thomas Lawrence portrait?’ Sophia enthused.

‘Not only am I aware, but I visited his abode yesterday morning and viewed it for myself!’

‘Oh, you rascal! That you have acquired an invitation ahead of me!’ Sophia jested playfully.

He grinned at her, enjoying her relaxed demeanour.

‘Where did he decide to hang it finally?’

‘It was in the drawing room,’ Albert confirmed.

‘Very good. The piece should shine for all guests to see.’

‘It certainly did!’

‘Shall we move onto this next piece…’ Albert went to move alongside Sophia and as he did, their hands brushed past one another and a spark stopped Albert in his tracks.

They looked at each other, sharing a moment of shock; both having experienced an unexpected jolt of something they could not articulate.

Sophia composed herself and hurried along to the next painting as Albert had suggested. He followed slowly after her and was about to comment upon the subject of the portrait before them, when an excitable Hannah approached.

‘Sophia! Did you see the piece entitled ‘Clouds’ just over the way?’

‘I confess I have not moved from this space!’ Sophia laughed.

‘Oh, you must see it! Though in good time – I always feel it is so important to invest contemplation on each piece; especially when we consider how long the artist must have spent in creating it!’ Hannah always came alive in art galleries; this endeared Sophia to her and she smiled at her friend, indulging her, though she was aware of the weight of Albert’s gaze upon her face.

Sophia turned to Albert and he quickly looked away, to study the portrait. She couldn’t help but smile to herself.

‘You recall I was painting clouds just earlier this week, Sophia?’ continued Hannah and Sophia nodded. ‘The painting exhibited today has experimented with such interesting strokes – almost as if different implements have been used…’

Sophia looked over at Albert in profile – his strong jaw clenched as he half-listened but seemed engaged in some other thought. She wondered what he might be thinking and as she pondered this, he turned sharply to look at her. This time it was Sophia who had been caught out and he acknowledged this with a mischievous grin. Sophia did not look away as quickly this time. She smiled back.

‘I should like to garner your opinion, Sophia,’ Hannah went on, oblivious to the games playing out before her, ‘on what materials you believe the artist may have utilised and whether you conceive I could achieve a similar effect in my work?’

‘Of course,’ Sophia agreed. ‘I shall work my way around and call you over when I have reached it.’

‘Please do. Thank you, Sophia.’

Albert had paced a few paintings away and Sophia regretted that there was distance between them now that she could not close without seeming keen. As she thought it, Albert stole a glance back at her across his shoulder.

A distraction arrived in the form of Nathaniel, bounding over to Hannah and Sophia with enthusiasm.

‘Lady Hannah, do you tell my cousin about the cloud painting?’

‘Indeed I did,’ Hannah confirmed ‘Sophia is going to consider it on her way around.’

‘Very well. Ah yes this one-’ Nathaniel pointed at the large Gloucestershire landscape next to them ‘is the painting I mentioned to you – the piece the elderly couple showed an interest in purchasing…’

‘Don’t you recognise it, Nathaniel?’ Sophia prompted.

‘Recognise it?’ Nathaniel looked back at the painting with a frown.

‘Why isn’t it your estate in Gloucestershire, Sophia?’ Hannah suddenly realised.

‘My goodness, but it is!’ Nathaniel laughed as the familiarity struck him.

***

As the Duke entered the Art Gallery, he felt strangely self-conscious. This was not an environment he frequented, nor a venue he felt particularly comfortable. As an Academic, he had not communed with creatives often and whilst he usually carried an air of confidence about him, he felt very aware that this was not his familiar realm and he stiffened slightly as he stepped inside.

He felt grateful that nobody turned to look at him – they were all fully engaged in the art pieces they were viewing or caught up in intimate discussions regarding their interpretations.

Caleb scanned the hall and, way across the room, through an archway, could see Hannah standing before a large landscape. He recognised Sophia standing with her but closer still was a tall, elegant man, leaning in toward Hannah and enthusing about something passionately, gesticulating with his hands. Hannah was looking up at him with animated interest. Caleb felt an aggressive surge of possessiveness toward Hannah. This was his wife and the man leaning over her clearly did not respect or did not care that she was a married woman. Caleb took assertive strides over toward the little group and as he came closer, he recognised the gentleman as Lord Nathaniel Bryant, who he believed to be Sophia’s cousin. It was likely, he countered, that Hannah had known Lord Bryant for years, but Caleb could not stand by and witness this intimate conversation playing out.

Caleb arrived at the small gathering and inserted himself between Hannah and Lord Bryant.

‘Good day to you, Hannah. Are you enjoying the paintings?’ Caleb asked warmly. Hannah was startled at his unexpected presence and Nathaniel took a step back, accommodating the newcomer. Caleb looked around at Sophia and Nathaniel who both seemed a little surprised by his appearance and as Caleb caught Nathaniel’s eye, he slipped his hand around Hannah and rested the palm of his hand on the small of her back. He felt her jolt a little at his touch. Nathaniel had the grace to look down and extend his hand.

‘Your Grace. A pleasure to see you again.’

‘Likewise,’ Caleb agreed gruffly, shaking his hand strongly.

Your Grace,’ Sophia curtsied and extended her hand, which Caleb duly took and kissed.

‘What are you doing here?’ Hannah asked, a little flustered but not unfriendly.

‘I know that you enjoy Art and I am fascinated to understand the appeal. After all-’ he turned to Nathaniel pointedly ‘A husband must engage in his wife’s passions.’

He waited to see Nathaniel’s reaction and Hannah’s face burned with shame that she had not referenced her recent nuptials earlier.

‘But of course! I must congratulate you both!’ Nathaniel gushed.

Hannah felt a little leap of surprise; that Nathaniel had known yet not mentioned it. Looking at Sophia, who wore a knowing smile, she realised that - of course - Sophia would have communicated this to her cousin.

‘May I admire your wedding ring, Your Grace?’ Nathaniel directed at Hannah. She felt uncomfortable with an old friend addressing her in such a way but did not feel that she could deny that title when her Duke was standing right next to her making the exchange feel much more formal than it had been in previous moments.

Instead, she simply held out her hand and Nathaniel exclaimed at the beauty of the gold band. Sophia leaned in to admire it, despite having seen it already. Caleb watched Hannah’s face as she smiled, showing her friends the band that symbolised their union; pride lit him up on the inside.

Hannah felt as though all her nerves were standing on end – her back rigid at the light touch of Caleb’s hand. She could feel his warmth hovering there; it was not an unpleasant sensation but was certainly unfamiliar to her.

‘Come, Hannah – I’d like you to explain this one to me…’ Caleb lightly guided her over to the right, effectively removing them from Sophia and Nathaniel.

They landed at a seascape and Hannah looked first at the canvas and then at Caleb, questioningly.

‘What would you like to know?’

Caleb panicked a little – all he had really wanted was to extricate Hannah from Nathaniel. The sensation sat uncomfortably with him; he had never considered himself a possessive man when it came to people. The prickle of agitation he had experienced when he saw Lord Bryant leaning over Hannah provoked action in him; a reaction of needing to remove her from the situation, to bring her closer to him. He did not wish to distance her from her friends; he knew from his own companionships how crucial it was to maintain close relations with friends. However, he could not help but feel that Nathaniel laid some claim to Hannah, having known her for so many years and having a common interest. Now he had feigned intrigue in the painting before them, he needed to find a pertinent question to support his subterfuge. He may have to risk seeming imbecilic, but it was all for the greater good.

A rare flash of uncertainty crossed Caleb’s face before he responded to Hannah; ‘This painting. What is it…?’

Hannah looked back again at the framed painting, which seemed quite obviously to be a depiction of the ocean, but ahead of replying, Hannah reminded herself that art was subjective and not always as discernible as she might consider it to be.

‘That all depends…’ she spoke slowly ‘upon what you see…’

Caleb glanced at her with a frown. He had half-expected her to laugh and exclaim ‘ why the sea, of course! ’

‘What do you see, Caleb?’ Hannah asked softly.

He watched her face and for a moment could only see her – and desperately wanted to tell her so. If he were an extravagant man such as Nathaniel, he might. But he was the Duke of Montwood and so tore his attention back to the painting.

‘I can see….water.’ Caleb deciphered.

‘Is it calm?’

‘No – there is swirling and chaos.’

‘A river?’

‘No – the ocean, most definitely.’

‘How do you know?’

‘The rippling undulation and energy…’

Hannah smiled as if she were a tutor guiding a student to find the answers for themselves.

‘You know what I find most interesting?’ Hannah leaned in as she might if she were disclosing a secret.

Caleb shook his head, mirroring her leaning in. He really wanted to know what she thought – what made this painting magical and how she analysed art to reach certain conclusions.

‘When you think of the sea – what colour do you think of?’

‘Blue, of course,’ Caleb clarified.

Hannah nodded, satisfied.

‘Now step closer to the canvas and look – really look …’ Hannah instructed and as Caleb did so, she followed closely behind.

‘Examine which colours you can see…’

Caleb began to call them out ‘I can see many shades of various grey; there is foaming of white, pockets of black; green and brown in the tumultuous waves…’

‘Even some red, look!’ Hannah pointed out thin, fine, barely visible strokes of dark burgundy red lining the curve of some waves. ‘It accentuates the energy and movement of the water.’

Caleb squinted at the canvas and looked quietly astonished at the discovery of red in the waves.

‘Now tell me-’ Hannah requested ‘do you see any blue?’

Caleb stepped back and looked around at the painting, taking it in as a whole, then with a sharp intake of breath, admitted ‘I cannot!’

‘Because there is none!’ Hannah revealed. ‘The spectrum of colours engaged in the piece is so wide and varying that you could stand across the room and swear the water was blue!’

‘Yet there is no blue!’ Caleb clarified in awe.

They had become accustomed to tiptoeing stoically around one another and this – they both seemed to realise in synchronicity – was the first conversation that had flowed between them without tension nor self-consciousness. They had connected tentatively over the shared appreciation of this art piece.

Hannah smiled, gratified at their meeting of minds. Caleb smiled back at her – an expression she hadn’t seen upon him before; one of wonder and fascination.