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“Because I wanted to see where this madness led you,” Mother said.

“I’m not against learning a craft. Playing the piano, writing poetry, and even painting, as disgustingly untidy as it is, are all skills that enhance a woman’s value.

But thinking of becoming a painter as a way to make a living?

Painting naked bodies?” She placed a hand on her tightly buttoned bodice.

“I want you to be respected and admired, not despised and ridiculed for being a promiscuous woman. Why do you think Mrs. Blanchet had to leave London? Because she couldn’t cope with the gossip and the hatred.

Her name appeared on the scandal sheet twice a week. ”

Did the scandal matter though now that Mrs. Blanchet had been vindicated?

“The fellowship would provide me with six thousand pounds.” Maddie handed the letter to her mother, which was useless since she’d already read it.

“That’s wonderful. But after that? After you attend this prestigious academy, what will happen to you?

” Mother didn’t seem to want Maddie’s answer, so she didn’t provide any.

“Do you think you will earn enough money to sustain yourself? No one in London would rent you a room, invite you to a soirée, or simply want to be your friend as happened to your Mrs. Blanchet.” Mother let out a polite scoff.

“Absurd. Painting isn’t a secure future for yourself.

Art is a fickle affair. It brings you money one day and takes it from you the next.

You’ll starve, Maddie, become an outcast, die in solitude, and I will not allow it. ”

The future couldn’t be so grim. Maddie inched closer to her mother. “But Mrs. Blanchet?—”

“She’s married to a rich man who allows her to indulge in the nonsensical belief that she’s an artist.”

“Mother!” Maddie placed a fluttering hand on her chest. How could her mother talk in such fashion about one of the most appreciated artists of the moment? “Mrs. Blanchet’s paintings are worth a fortune. Yes, her husband supports her, but he doesn’t allow her to be an artist. She is one.”

Mother’s features tautened. “I’ve been generous to you so far, enduring all that wasted time to let you be a dauber, but enough of that.”

“Dauber!”

“We’re talking about your future.” Mother spoke with the tone of someone who was losing their patience.

“What will you do when you’re old and poor and with only a handful of canvases no one wants to pay for?

Alone, shunned, without a husband? Mrs. Blanchet was lucky after society had mocked her, but you?

You showed no interest in the gentlemen I introduced you to, and the last Season was a complete disaster.

I received more invitations to dance than you did.

The only thing you can converse about is paintings. Do you realise how dull it is?”

“The gentlemen you introduced to me could only talk about themselves.”

“Oh, shush.” Mother rubbed the spot between her eyebrows.

Maddie swallowed past the lump swelling in her throat.

It wasn’t her fault if the gentlemen she’d met during the last Season hadn’t appreciated her passion for painting.

It was her fault if a couple of said gentlemen had stormed out of the ballroom because she’d offended them with her opinions on what didn’t constitute a scandalous painting.

Artists had painted naked bodies for centuries.

“This madness ends this instant.” Mother picked up her embroidery. “No more talking about this silly academy.”

Silly academy? Anger flared up in Maddie’s chest. “I want to meet Mrs. Blanchet,” she said in a low voice cracking with emotion. When her mother didn’t reply, she spoke in a firmer voice, “I want to?—”

“I heard you.” Mother glared, pausing her embroidery again. “As your mother, it’s my duty to protect you from disappointment, or, in some cases, stupidity. But do you want to make a fool out of yourself? By all means, show one of your paintings to that woman.”

That hurt. Maybe Maddie wasn’t as talented or prepared as Mrs. Blanchet, but she worked hard and, with the right training, she was sure her technique would improve.

“But if she doesn’t like it, you’re going to do whatever I say. Is that clear?” Mother asked.

Well, if Maddie couldn’t receive the fellowship, her chances of entering the academy were nought. She gave a curt nod. After all, she wanted to impress Mrs. Blanchet.

Mother focused on her embroidery—the silhouette of an angel, ironically. “At your age, I was married and carrying my first child. Painting. Travelling. Adventures.” She huffed. “Nonsense. Life is harsher than what you think, Maddie, especially when you are a young woman in London.”

Maddie rose from her armchair and bit her inner cheek not to cry. “I’ll prove you wrong, Mother.”

“We’ll see.” Mother didn’t look at her.

She shuffled out, keeping her back straight and her chest thrust out. But when she entered her room, she sagged against the closed door. She allowed herself a moment to shake with anger and fear before striding towards her painting corner. She pulled the curtains, letting the morning sunlight in.

The painting set on the easel showed a couple dancing in the middle of a meadow blossoming with buttercups and forget-me-nots.

Lots of bright colours on the front contrasted with the shadows in the background, creating a well-balanced—in her opinion—shade throughout the canvas.

Weeks upon weeks of work. Corrections upon corrections.

Tears, sweat, and blood. Would they be worth it?

“Maddie?” Verity’s voice came muffled from the other side of the door.

Maddie pinched her cheeks, not wanting to alarm her sister with her pallor. Although she probably didn’t look pale but red with anger. “Yes, come in.”

Verity slipped inside with a soft swish of velvet. She, Maddie, and their mother had the same looks, but where Mother’s mouth was constantly pressed in a harsh line of disappointment, Verity’s was soft and warm.

“I heard voices.” Verity walked over to her. “Well, Mother’s voice. Is something the matter?”

Maddie took out her paintbrushes and colours before turning the canvas towards the light.

“We had an argument. Nothing unusual. I want to meet Mrs. Blanchet when she comes to London, and Mother believes it’s a waste of time.

” She shrugged, pretending she didn’t care.

“But I want to meet Mrs. Blanchet anyway because, if she likes my style, she’s going to help me receive a fellowship for the Royal Women’s Academy of Arts. ”

“Good Lord.” Verity clamped her hands over her mouth. “This is fantastic news. I knew your talent would be recognised sooner or later.”

“Thank you.” Maddie faced the window, blinking away more tears. “Besides, this painting only needs a few more layers. Then it’ll be ready to be shown to Mrs. Blanchet whether Mother likes it or not.” She couldn’t completely remove the hurt from her voice.

“Maddie.” Verity took her hand. She opened her mouth to say something but then remained silent, smiling at the painting. “It’s beautiful. I’m sure Mrs. Blanchet will be impressed.”

Maddie tilted her head to have a better look at the leaves in the background. The river still needed a retouch, but the sky and the hills had a dramatic flair she approved of.

“I hope.”

“What’s that ghastly plant covering your window?” Verity opened the window, causing the long green stems to tremble. “Why didn’t you ask the gardener to pull it off?”

“Don’t touch it, please.” Maddie locked the window again. “The plant grew weeks ago. I guess it has its roots somewhere in the gutter. Anyway, it creates the perfect light, especially in the afternoon. Leave it be. The golden flowers are so pretty.”

“I’ll leave you to work, then.” Verity bussed her sister’s cheek. “I’ll ask Cook to have your lunch served here if you want to.”

Maddie smiled. Verity knew her so well. “And dinner. It’s going to be a long week.”