Page 15 of A Deal with an Artistic Lady (Marriage Deals #2)

From the balcony of the Montwood town-house, where Hannah had been leisurely strolling on her way downstairs, she paused. She could hear voices entering the front door and commotion in the hallway as guests were received. She frowned to herself, certain that there were no appointments due, then as she strained to listen, her heart leaped in excitement – she recognised one voice and it could not be mistaken. It was her sister, Clara!

Hannah began to run along the landing area and scurried down the stairs as fast as she could without tripping on her long skirts. As she rounded the corner to the top of the stairs, her breath caught in her throat with joy as she saw that it was, indeed, her sister and her mother.

‘Oh Clara!!’ Hannah yelled out as she threw herself into her sister’s arms. She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. Clara was a significant few inches taller than Hannah and her embraces always made Hannah feel so safe. Clara held Hannah out at arm's length to look at her.

‘I am so sorry, sister, that James and I were unable to travel back in time for your wedding! We just arrived in London yesterday and I came here as quickly as possible.’

Hannah turned to her mother and the scene was so surreal to her. Here was her mother who was so much a part of the furniture that made up her everyday life and yet in the past week, since her wedding day she had neither seen her nor spoken to her. Hannah rushed her mother into an embrace and as she breathed in her familiar perfume, she suddenly felt a pit of sad nostalgia in her gut; a longing for the Haworth residence; for her old bedchambers and her quiet days painting with Sophia by her side. She even missed her mother’s consistent reprimands with regard to her painting. All conventional domesticity that she had quite taken for granted now stung to think of. She felt quite homesick.

Clara grabbed Hannah’s attention back and held her by her upper arms.

‘Let me look at you, sister…’ a slight frown crossed her face. ‘Why, you look quite different…’

Before Clara could elaborate, Anne’s stern voice cut through the air as she rounded the corner.

‘I hear we have guests?’

Evelyn straightened up, standing on ceremony and Clara leaned to see the woman, whom she had no doubt been told about.

‘Good day to you, Your Grace,’ Evelyn greeted Anne and curtsied. ‘We apologise for intervening and hope you consent to a spontaneous visit…’

Anne smiled falsely and looked over at Hannah before responding.

‘Of course. You are now family, after all…’ it seemed to Hannah that Anne spoke the words through gritted teeth.

Whilst Hannah understood there had probably been no time in which to announce their visit, having only returned from abroad just yesterday, she feared the impulsiveness of the call would only add to the ammunition Anne was building against her. Hannah knew that Anne was a woman who believed in doing things properly and Hannah’s mother and sister just showing up would further prove to Anne that the Haworths were not adequate stock to be taken into the Montwood family.

Hannah withered as Anne joined them.

‘May I introduce my eldest daughter, and Hannah’s older sister; Lady Clara Ashworth…’ Evelyn motioned to Clara, who took Anne’s hand and curtsied, but did not lower her eyes; she kept them firmly on the Dowager Duchess.

‘Your Grace. It is an honour to meet you,’ Clara said sweetly.

Hannah noted how her mother was rigid with formality and she realised this was probably how she, herself, looked most of the time when Anne was around. For one moment when her family arrived, Hannah had relaxed and felt able to entirely be herself. Now that Anne had arrived, the fondness and communion had evaporated.

‘Come to my parlour room,’ Anne instructed. ‘We will take tea.’

The three Haworth ladies exchanged unnerved glances and followed Anne’s echoing footsteps in silence.

***

‘Hannah, will you pour, as lady of the house?’ Anne suggested, putting a dark emphasis on the title. Hannah bristled at the mention of it, knowing that just days before, Anne had reminded the house staff in no uncertain terms that she, the Dowager Duchess, should still be considered the main lady of the house.

Hannah forced a smile and poured the tea for all the ladies gathered but was acutely aware of how her hand was trembling. She saw Clara notice it and shoot her a concerned glance. Clara had also noticed how thin Hannah had become and narrowed her eyes, watching her sister with worry.

‘Do try not to spill, dear,’ Anne commented, enjoying the spectacle.

Hannah blushed and, on completing the duty, took her seat promptly. Nobody else had spoken and Hannah hated it – if Anne were not there, Clara and her mother would be tripping over each other to ask questions and gossip and Hannah almost cried wishing that were her reality and not this stiffness and constant scrutiny.

‘James sends his warmest regards, Hannah,’ Clara broke the tense silence, then she turned to the Dowager Duchess to elaborate. ‘My husband, Lord James Ashworth – he is very successful in Trading and Importing Overseas Goods so we travel most of the year and are hardly ever home…’

Most people would feel compelled to ask where they had recently visited or enquired as to the quality of their journey, but Anne remained tight-lipped and simply nodded an acknowledgment that Clara had spoken.

Evelyn dived in to save Clara from embarrassment ‘Do tell your sister where you have been these past few months!’

‘Oh Hannah, it has been quite marvellous!’ Clara reached out to touch her sister’s arm. ‘We have been in the Caribbean islands. You honestly have not seen such a beautiful place! The things you could paint-’ Clara instantly realised her mistake and all three ladies looked to Anne in horror to see if she reacted, and were relieved when she did not lift her eyes from her teacup.

‘I mean, the things you could eat there…I tried the most incredible fruit. A Coconut – it tasted like juicy white crunchy flesh within a large hairy nutshell and I consumed a very strange sweet fruit that was long and encased in a bright yellow waxy jacket! Can you imagine!’

Hannah smiled, caught up in Clara’s enthusiasm – she so loved to hear of her adventures whenever she visited.

‘How long was your crossing to return home?’ Hannah ventured.

‘Urgh, a tiresome eight weeks! We boarded in March – it is such a long time to be at sea. Frustratingly, we were only days off being here in which case would have been present to attend your wedding! It was so close. But I hear the Duke requested a special license and so-’

Anne loudly cleared her throat, indicating the topic should not be discussed. Clara quickly took a sip of her tea to cover her indiscretion.

‘But no matter – we are here now. And Mother has been telling me how gloriously the day went!’ Clara smiled encouragingly at Hannah, who responded with a small sad smile and then looked over quickly at Anne to check she wasn’t being watched, as seemed to have become a habit.

‘It was a beautiful day, was it not, Your Grace?’ Evelyn asked Anne, attempting to involve her in the conversation.

‘The sun indeed did shine that day, as I remember,’ Anne confirmed tightly.

Clara released a quiet sigh of derision, despairing that this woman would refer only to the weather on a day that should have been poignant for her. Hannah was immediately put on edge, but was relieved to observe that Anne seemed not to have noticed it.

‘Speaking of sun,’ Hannah rushed in to change the subject ‘how healthy you look! You have caught a slight tan on your skin from the Caribbean sun!’

‘Oh, really I try to avoid it, but it seems sun that hot can penetrate even bonnets and parasols…’ Clara batted the compliment away.

‘How vulgar it is for a woman’s skin colour to darken. Perhaps you should try a lighter powder to cover it,’ Anne suggested.

Clara looked quite taken aback and Hannah panicked that she might retort somehow – she was braver than Hannah was.

‘It must be extremely difficult to avoid the sun in such places,’ Hannah defended her sister.

Clara looked uncomfortably between Anne and Hannah ‘It certainly is.’

‘And where do you and James plan to travel next?’ Hannah enquired.

‘Hopefully, we should be based in London for a couple of months…’ Clara began.

‘’Oh, I do hope so!’ Hannah clapped her hands together joyously.

‘And then I believe on to Africa!’ Clara concluded.

Hannah breathed in delightfully and allowed her mind to wander briefly to exotic colourful countries – the freedom to travel wherever the wind carried you, to try new friends, indulge in unfamiliar cultures. She envied her sister’s independence and adventure. Clara’s eyes danced with animation as she talked about her travels and it was such a jarring contrast to the dull parlour room with it’s rigid formality and claustrophobic regulation.

‘How wonderful it must be…!’ Hannah enthused dreamily

‘It is no life for a lady of good breeding to be gallivanting across seas and land!’ Anne scoffed disapprovingly. ‘Do not procure such delusions for yourself, Hannah!’

Clara looked at Hannah quite dumbfounded but Hannah did not see it, for she lowered her eyes to her lap and forced herself to take a deep breath. Her life at Montwood suddenly felt so imprisoning. In comparison to Clara, who married for love, with a thrilling build-up to her extravagant wedding, Hannah felt as though she had been committed to a life of duty, obedience, and confining convention. It felt suddenly too much to cope with.

Evelyn feared the union could take a malicious turn and attempted to retain the social niceties.

‘I was admiring the flowers in your garden, Your Grace. How beautiful they are! Do you enjoy tending to the garden yourself?’

Anne huffed at the suggestion ‘No, I do not take any pleasure in the garden. Our groundsman sees to it that the gardens are maintained.’

‘I see,’ Evelyn nodded. It seemed however that even when they tried to steer the conversation to include Anne, she rebuffed it from every angle.

‘Clara,’ Hannah asserted, ‘might I show you a magnificent painting in the drawing room?’

‘Of course!’ Clara smiled.

‘If you will please excuse us a moment…’ Hannah addressed the two mothers as she took her sister’s hand and led her out of the parlour room.

Hannah dared not speak as they scurried across the hall – she knew that conversation would not be flowing between the Dowager Duchess and her mother which made it likely they would hear anything uttered in the foyer. She would wait until they were safely ensconced in the sound-absorbing furnishings of the luxurious drawing room.

‘Here it is!’ Hannah announced as she rushed her sister into the drawing room and indicated the large framed picture hanging above the fireplace, which was not lit, bringing a chilliness to the room that Hannah had not previously experienced there.

‘Oh, it is glorious!’ Clara declared, approaching the image in delight.

‘I must confess, dear sister – whilst I do simply adore this painting – it was rather a ruse to have some time alone with you to talk…’

Clara turned to look at Hannah, her face unsurprised.

‘Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess,’ Clara guessed.

Hannah nodded, her face visibly upset.

‘I find her so confronting and difficult, Clara!’

‘It is no wonder. The woman is a menace by all accounts.’

Hannah’s shoulders sank as she considered her hopeless situation.

‘But what of the Duke? What of your husband? Please do not tell me he is cut from the same cloth as his mother…?’

‘Oh no,’ Hannah was quite resolute in her response. ‘Well, perhaps at first I thought he probably was…’

Clara looked at her questioningly.

‘He was cold and serious – there was only regiment and stoicism about his character. I was devastated when Father announced our nuptials. I did not want to marry such a discordant man.’

Clara’s brow furrowed with concern for her little sister.

‘However, he has changed – even in just this one week I have known him. He is gentle and applies great effort to involve me in conversation. We have a shared love of literature and he has even provided me with a room for my artwork!’

‘I am so grateful he is not a tyrant like his mother! I assume he approves then, of your art?’

Hannah’s eyes flicked to the other side of the room, considering this question.

‘In truth, he has not asked me what I am utilising the room for – he gifted it to me, but has not entered since, as far as I am aware. I have never explicitly spoken about my creation of art, although he joined me at Lord Bryant’s exhibition this week and we have shared many conversations regarding artwork…’

‘Yet he does not know how beautifully you paint?’ Clara was quite astonished.

‘I do not know if he will approve…’ Hannah replied quietly, dropping her eyes to the floor.

‘If he is fond of you - and it sounds as though he is – I am quite sure he will be very proud to have such a clever and talented wife!’

Hannah slowly shook her head. ‘The Dowager Duchess yelled at me for painting. She intimated I was a disgrace to the Montwood family for engaging in such a frivolous pastime…’

‘She did what!?’ Clara was outraged.

‘Oh Clara, she speaks with such malice when she addresses me! I have never felt so disrespected and humiliated. I cannot think what it is I could have done to have upset her to such an extent!’

‘She may be high and mighty within her social standing but she has absolutely no right to extinguish your expression of creativity, nor to verbally abuse you in such a way!’

‘Clara, you must promise me you will not confront her about this-’ Hannah implored.

‘But I-’

‘Please! It would only worsen the predicament for me!’

Clara breathed in deeply and released a regretful sigh. ‘Very well. I understand.’

‘My husband is kind, I believe. I have such confused feelings about him…’

‘Tell me,’ Clara said softly, stepping forward and taking her sister’s hand.

‘In truth, I did not like him. Then I spied in him some inner turmoil; some confrontation – as though he feels bound by duty to this suitable alliance, but does not desire for it to run any deeper. And yet…’

‘And yet?’

‘He is affectionate with me. I see him watching me with a sense of intrigue.’

‘This is wonderful, Hannah. From those first sparks, may perhaps love grow?’

‘I agree it would be a wondrous circumstance! However, I do not feel that Caleb aspires to this. He desires only a convenient arrangement – a Duchess to attend formal occasions with and to support him in carrying out ducal responsibilities. He has neither time nor inclination for love. I am merely an unwanted distraction to him.’

‘Mayhap,’ Clara leaned in. ‘Alternatively, he may discover that love enriches his life and as Duke and Duchess, you are stronger and held in even higher esteem due to your admirable bond.’

Hannah smiled sadly up at her sister, wishing her words could be true.

‘I do not know how to counter the Dowager Duchess. In her presence, my confidence shrivels; she has so diminished me…’

‘Do not allow her!’ Clara gripped at her sister’s hands and forced her to meet her eye.

‘Hannah, you are a talented, kind, and beautiful Duchess. The Duke has chosen you as his wife. Whether or not his mother approves is irrelevant. She may be troublesome, but she will eventually accept that which she cannot change. It is your obligation to remain strong and proud and not permit her aspersions to impact your morale or dent your tenacity.’

Hannah squeezed Clara’s hands in return and looked up at her from tear-filled eyes.

‘Thank you, Clara.’

Clara embraced Hannah with conviction ‘Oh my sweet sister, how I wish things could have been different for you! I have faith, however, that you are capable of coping with this complex predicament. Have faith in your sense of self!’

A tear dropped from Hannah’s cheek onto Clara’s shoulder. Hannah had been unaware of how much she had needed to hear these words of support and buoyancy. She didn’t want to let go of her sister because she knew that on the other side of it, she had to pull down the hatches and once again demonstrate restraint and austere presentation.

‘Are you ready?’ Clara bent low to look into Hannah’s pretty face.

Hannah nodded, just once and the two sisters left the drawing room hand-in-hand to rejoin the mothers.