Page 24 of A Deal with an Artistic Lady (Marriage Deals #2)

Caleb sat rigidly at the head of the table as the staff set about pouring coffee and serving pastries. He glared at his mother across the breakfast table and she avoided his eye.

‘Thank you,’ Caleb addressed the staff. ‘Leave us, please.’

He waited until the last person had scurried out the door before holding aloft the scandal sheet; his jaw clenched and his fingers tightening around the paper.

‘Have you seen this?’ Caleb demanded of his mother, his anger barely repressed.

Anne raised an eyebrow disinterestedly and Emmeline looked worriedly between the two of them.

‘You are the Dowager Duchess. It is your duty to uphold our family name and to honour our social status. In your determined, misguided attempt at petty revenge, you have ruined us!’ Caleb accused.

Caleb held up the scandal sheet, showing the lurid headline Disgraced Duchess of Montwood poses as Male Artist .

‘You do not seem to realise that you cannot disgrace Hannah without disparaging us all ?’

Anne’s mouth dropped open at this accusation, as though she had never considered the fact that she was hurting her own family. Her face paled and her usual composure cracked as the reality of her actions dawned on her. Anne’s eyes darted between the paper and her son's face, rendered speechless for the first time.

Caleb slammed the paper down onto the breakfast table, making his mother and sister jump.

‘This would never have happened if you could just have accepted Hannah into this family! Father chose her as my wife, I trusted his judgment, have taken her in and welcomed her into our home and you have made her life difficult at every turn!’

Nobody touched their breakfast. Anne’s mouth was turned downwards as her son reprimanded her and Emmeline watched wide-eyed as her brother said all the things Emmeline herself knew to be true but would never dare articulate.

‘This scandal is all down to you, mother!’ Caleb stood decisively from his seat and strode toward the door.

‘Wh-where are you going?’ Anne’s voice quavered.

Caleb turned, his eyes blazing at her.

‘To fetch my wife and make things right!’ He turned to exit and the door closed behind him with a decisive click, leaving Anne and Emmeline sitting in stunned silence.

*

Across town, Hannah sat at the window of Sophia’s family’s town-house, tracing the headlines of the scandal sheets that were scattered around her. She had read them all but revisited them, torturing herself as every word assaulted her. The societal judgment bore down on her, threatening to crush her soul – she knew it was unhealthy to indulge in punishing herself but had no inclination to stop.

Sophia entered the room, her face etched with concern. Hannah hadn’t eaten the previous night and had to be coaxed to drink even a coffee that morning. Sophia could see how Hannah had been so shaken by the events of yesterday and willed some words of reassurance or inspiration to emerge but she could find no helpful consolation.

Sophia kneeled beside Hannah, taking her hand, which was cold and frail. Sophia’s hand felt warm in contrast and the shock of it broke something within Hannah and the tears she had been holding in since they had arrived at Sophia’s house yesterday evening were released. Sophia held her friend and allowed her to cry as long as she needed to, with the odd interruption of ‘You should eat something’, ‘You’re so cold…’ ‘It will get better than this…’ and although Hannah appreciated Sophia’s efforts, the words could not come anywhere close to healing her hurt.

***

Caleb’s carriage rattled through the town – he had requested the journey to be as prompt as possible, so he was thrown around a little more in the back than he would usually be, but hardly noticed, for his mind was fraught with a muddle of emotions.

He was in love with Hannah. This much was now clear to him. But the revelation was not without its challenges. To defend Hannah, he would be fighting against the societal norms that he usually embraced and abided by. His mother would be his enemy and he would need to regain the respect of the Ton, having featured so heavily in the scandal sheets. But she was worth it.

As the carriage pulled up outside Lady Camden’s town-house, Caleb took a deep breath, steeling himself for the potential showdown ahead. With gusto, he pushed forward and stood at the front door, poised to life the knocker. Then he stopped. The doubts began to creep in. There was a strong possibility Hannah would refuse to see him – he allowed a moment to consider the humiliation of having to return to his coach having not been granted access to the house. That alone would make the scandal sheets if anyone saw. He worried that perhaps he was too late; he’d made his disgust abundantly clear by marching out of Lady Wentworth’s exhibition yesterday and since then, he could understand if Hannah had already planned her life out without him featuring in it. Certainly she could succeed as a renowned artist and had no need for him. He stood at the door feeling unable to knock but equally unable to turn and leave. His indecision saw him standing at the door passively, which was an unfamiliar stance for the usually assertive Duke of Montwood.

***

Releasing Hannah from her embrace, Sophia stood from the floor where she had kneeled and Hannah returned her attention to the window. She sighed heavily, leaning forward to look at the street below.

‘Caleb!’ Hannah suddenly exclaimed ‘It’s Caleb! He’s at the door!’ She turned to Sophia as if asking how to proceed.

Sophia assessed her best friend’s face – she seemed distraught to see her husband there, but her eyes glittered with hope and it was clear to Sophia that Hannah would not be so extremely upset over the events at the exhibition, were she not in love with the Duke. It hurt Sophia to see the conflicted emotions on Hannah’s face and so she gently offered;

‘Shall I ask the Butler to send him away?’

Hannah turned from Sophia to look back at the doorstep, where Caleb stood, strangely motionless. She nibbled at a finger as she considered which of the warring emotions would win – her stubborn, obstinate, righteous principles or the overwhelming longing she felt to be close to him.

***

The Butler opened the door to see the Duke of Montwood standing on the top step, looking ashen and a little panicked.

‘Good day,’ Caleb hurried his words out before he could change his mind ‘I believe Her Grace, Hannah, the Duchess of Montwood is staying here as a guest of Lady Camden’s,’ he spoke in a low, urgent voice. ‘Please may I speak with her?’

The Butler drew breath to speak but was interrupted by a commotion on the stairs and he turned to look as Hannah arrived in a hurry of rustling skirts to stand at the balcony above the stairs.

Caleb’s breath caught as he saw her there – her eyes red-rimmed and her face pale, but still so beautiful and so warmly familiar to him now that it felt like being reunited with a part of him that had been missing.

Hannah had run to the stairs to ensure Caleb wasn’t instantly dismissed. She was so uncertain as to whether or not she should grant him time with her, but she couldn’t let him go without at least casting her eyes upon him. Now that she had, she knew why. He was like a magnet to her – she was drawn to him, even to her own detriment.

For a silent, loaded moment, Caleb and Hannah stared at one another; the air charged with unspoken desires and repressed sentiments.

Caleb bypassed his request to the Butler for access and addressed Hannah directly. His voice hoarse with emotion, as he called out to her.

‘Hannah, is there a chance I may speak with you please?’

Hannah blinked, still unsure of the healthiest way to proceed. Her feet betrayed her – she found herself stepping down onto the top stair. Her movements were slow, reluctant and he watched her patiently, it sparked a memory of the first time he had seen her and how she gracefully negotiated the stairs. She had the same nervousness about her now but her eyes were fixed upon his and she did not once look away.

As she reached the large hallway, the Butler looked to her for approval. ‘Your Grace?’

Hannah broke her eye contact with Caleb for a moment to nod once at the Butler, signifying she was fine to meet with him. The Butler closed the front door and excused himself to the depths of the house.

Hannah walked up to Caleb and then straight past him, with a pinched authority and a knowing that he would follow her. She led him into a side parlour room and he came along, closing the door.

As soon as they were in the privacy of the room alone, Hannah turned to look out the window, allowing him space to say what he had come to express. Caleb’s words spilled out with desperation.

‘Hannah, I cannot apologise enough for my neglect of you. I know now that you are an incredibly talented artist and that your passion is teamed with tremendous skill. I am so sorry that I never demonstrated an interest in viewing your art. Had I been a more attentive husband to you, the artist reveal at Lady Wentworth’s exhibition should not have been a shock to me. I would have recognised your artwork and would have been equipped to respond with the support and pride that you deserved. I disappointed and abandoned you and will regret it for the rest of my life. You are so talented, Hannah…’

She turned from the window and Caleb could see that her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

‘Additionally, I have been inexcusably unfair to you. My warm and welcoming efforts have turned quite suddenly to bitter cold rebuffs and my engaging chatter to stiff denial of your presence. I can explain…’

Hannah tilted her head, engrossed in his confession.

‘My father and mother had a loveless marriage. I grew up witnessing their incessant arguments and this is my only point of reference with regard to marital relationships. My father attempted to placate my mother but she was caustic and resentful. The toxicity of their union has poisoned my perspective on marriage.’

Hannah took a cautious step toward him. Caleb continued.

‘When your father and I agreed upon this marriage, it was a solely a business arrangement to me and when I told you so, this was to protect us both from falling into the same noxious pattern. I did not want us to have any sort of bond or relationship – in my mind, if we were able to retain a partnership that upheld independent activities and saw us coming together simply for the required union as Duke and Duchess, neither of us could be influenced enough by the other to result in being hurt. I did not want to get close to you, out of self-protection. I see that now.’

Hannah saw now that vulnerable, gentle, man behind the stoic facade of the Duke. His eyes implored her to believe him and the authenticity of his confessions caused her to forgive him without him even having to request her clemency.

‘I am usually so in control of my life – of what I allow in and who can influence me. But you, Hannah – I did not give you permission and you broke through the barriers anyway. I never intended to fall in love with you.’

Caleb stopped short; the unspoken insinuation hanging in the air between them. Hannah closed the gap by stepping closer to him, her lips parted in astonishment at his admission.

‘I have not been honest with you either, Caleb,’ Hannah admitted, her voice gravelly from crying overnight. ‘I pursued my dream of exhibiting my art publicly, even knowing the risks involved. When you showed your support in coming along to share in my passion, I should have told you then. If I had, you would not have been wrong-footed and humiliated. I was just so worried that speaking out about my plan would prevent me from being able to showcase my work. I have always been told that artwork is for the common creative and that society expects me to be a lady; to dance, to play a musical instrument; to read and sew and be charming at dinner…’ Hannah paused to roll her eyes. The expression made Caleb want to laugh but it felt inappropriate to do so. All the same, Hannah saw the hint of a twitch at his lips and it bolstered her onwards.

‘The truth is Caleb, that creating art is not choice for me. It is not a mere hobby. It is who I am . Without drawing and painting, I am but a shell of myself. You would not want that wife – she would be uninspired, dull and frankly, a bore. I regret that I have brought shame upon the Montwood family. Truly, I feel absolutely horrid about it. However, I cannot regret my boldness in posing as Alexander Burton to showcase my work. If hiding behind the name of a man is the only way I can present my art to the world, so be it. I only wish I had not disgraced you in the process.’

Hannah dropped her eyes to the floor. Looking at the space between them, she saw Caleb’s feet take two assertive steps toward her and then felt his warm hand gently graze at her chin, lifting her head gently to meet his eyes.

Caleb read her face and was overcome with emotion to see her eyes so apologetic yet determined, her body trembling slightly, and her expression poised to hear how he received her declaration.

Hannah looked up into Caleb’s face; his dark brow furrowed as if he were striving to understand her. She realised now that his brooding was not a look of contempt or malcontent, but that sometimes he was just thinking things through and figuring them out. His eyes had softened and he looked, possibly for the first time, completely unsure of himself. She wondered if he were angry and sad; that he had possibly lifted her head to tell her, with remorse, that they could not continue their marriage. Her heart beat frantically in her chest waiting for him to speak.

‘I love you, Hannah. I am in love with you.’

Hannah’s breath escaped her in a gush, such was her relief at hearing his sentiment that saved her.

Caleb was so afraid; he had never before laid himself so bare and vulnerable. He feared Hannah would not accept him after he had acted so brutishly. But then she smiled and her whole face lit up. A flood of relief rushed through his system, elevating his heart.

Hannah reached to take his hands. Her hands were cold and small in his that were so broad, warm, and welcoming.

‘Caleb,’ she said quietly, ‘I am in love with you, too.’

The grin that took over his face was a new expression Hannah had never seen before – perhaps because this was the happiest he had ever felt. She saw all his perfectly aligned teeth and realised he usually only smiled thinly, with his mouth closed. Here was Caleb, uninhibited.

They beamed at one another as the moments passed, but then as Hannah remembered all the obstacles still laid ahead of them, her smile faded and her eyes betrayed her concern.

Caleb understood. He tightened his grip on her hands and promised her.

‘You will paint. You will draw. I want to see every piece you create and I will celebrate it with you. We will stand in solidarity against the public scandal. Together, we will be strong and our unified dynamic will fortify our dignity.’

Hannah’s eyes sparkled listening to his words that soothed her like a balm. These were the exact affirmations she needed to hear and here they were, being promised to her by the man she had married – the man she loved.

Caleb leaned forward slowly and pressed his warm lips to hers and they embraced for the first time without restraint, fearless and trusting. Hannah felt as though her life could not possibly improve upon that moment.