Page 45 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)

“Indeed not,” the viscount agreed, his voice taking on an excited tone that reminded Elizabeth of his former enthusiasm.

“I’ve come with a most interesting invitation.

The Royal Academy has a private viewing of their summer exhibition tomorrow afternoon, and through a fortuitous connection with Sir Thomas Lawrence, I have secured tickets.

I thought perhaps you might enjoy seeing the paintings before the general crush descends. ”

Elizabeth watched the light of genuine interest spark in Kitty’s eyes.

Before the tragedy, such an invitation would have elicited immediate, effusive acceptance.

Now Kitty showed a moment’s hesitation, her gaze flickering to Anne, who sat quietly by the window, ostensibly focused on her embroidery though her needle had stilled.

“That sounds most pleasant,” Kitty finally said. “I should like to go very much, if my sister approves?”

Elizabeth nodded, acknowledging her presence in the conversation. “It sounds like a wonderful opportunity, Kitty. Perhaps Georgiana and Anne might wish to accompany you?”

Georgiana looked up from the book she had been reading, a brief look of alarm crossing her features at the suggestion of a crowded social event. “I thank you, but I believe I shall remain at home. Mr. Townend is bringing a new composition this afternoon that we hope to practice.”

Anne’s voice was soft but surprisingly steady when she spoke. “You are very kind, but I think not. I am not quite ready for such an outing.” She offered a small, forced smile. “But Kitty should certainly go and enjoy herself.”

The viscount, showing unexpected perception, bowed again to Anne. “Of course, Miss de Bourgh. Perhaps another time, when you feel more inclined for company. The exhibition runs for several weeks.”

This gentle acknowledgment of Anne’s grief without pressing her seemed to ease something in the room’s atmosphere. Elizabeth found herself warming further to the viscount.

“Then it is settled,” he continued, turning back to Kitty with a smile that held genuine pleasure rather than mere social politeness.

“I shall call for you tomorrow at two o’clock.

Sir Thomas himself may be present, and his portraits are truly extraordinary.

The way he captures the very essence of his subjects, as though the canvas itself breathes with life.

..” He launched into an enthusiastic description of the artist’s technique, his hands gesturing expressively to illustrate various points.

Elizabeth observed how Kitty leaned forward slightly, drawn in by his animation.

There was comfort in the viscount’s theatrical energy, a reminder that enthusiasm and joy remained possible even after witnessing tragedy.

As Kitty began to respond with questions about the exhibition, Elizabeth quietly took a seat near the fire and took up her book.

She had scarcely read more than a page when Harrison announced Mr. Townend.

The gentleman entered with his usual slight awkwardness in social settings, carrying a leather portfolio that undoubtedly contained music.

His bow was correct if somewhat stiff, but his expression softened visibly when Georgiana rose to greet him.

“Miss Darcy,” he said, his voice warming. “I’ve brought the piece we discussed. It is finally complete, though I fear it may require some refinement.”

“I am eager to hear it,” Georgiana replied with genuine enthusiasm. “Shall we go to the music room?”

Elizabeth nodded her permission, and the pair departed, their conversation already turning to musical technicalities that excluded everyone else through their shared passion.

The connection between them had deepened during these difficult weeks, their mutual understanding of music’s emotional language providing comfort that words alone could not convey.

Mr. Townend, for all his social awkwardness, seemed to understand precisely when Georgiana needed technical challenge to distract her mind and when she required the gentler solace of familiar melodies.

From the open door, Elizabeth could hear them talking as they moved toward the music room, Mr. Townend’s voice animated as he described his composition.

“I’ve attempted to capture that sense of searching we discussed, the movement from uncertainty toward resolution, though not simple resolution... more a kind of acceptance that contains both sorrow and hope.”

“Like Beethoven’s Pathetique , but perhaps less... demonstrative?“ Georgiana suggested.

“Exactly,” Mr. Townend agreed, his voice fading as they turned the corner.

Elizabeth returned her attention to Anne, who remained at her embroidery frame, though she had begun to take a few stitches again.

Kitty was explaining to the viscount her preference for landscape paintings over portraits, her voice holding more animation than Elizabeth had heard in weeks.

When the viscount took his leave a short while later, having secured Kitty’s company for the morrow, she found herself alone with Anne and Kitty.

“He is very kind,” Anne observed quietly, surprising Elizabeth. “The viscount. He has changed since... since that day.”

Kitty nodded, moving to sit closer to Anne.

“He has. There is less performance in his manner now, though he still tells the most outrageous stories.” A small smile touched her lips.

“I have suggested he might do well to write a novel, and he seemed quite delighted by the idea. He has promised that I shall be the first to read it.”

“That is an excellent idea,” Elizabeth said, pleased that her sister had thought of it. “However much truth or fabrication there may be in Lord Shandly’s tales, it is undeniable that he is an excellent storyteller. He would be an excellent novelist, I believe.”

Kitty smiled happily at the thought. “And even if they are never published, I personally shall take great pleasure in reading them.”

Anne returned to her embroidery, but her needle moved with more purpose now. “Will you wear your blue striped muslin tomorrow? It suits you particularly well.”

This practical question about fashion, so normal and everyday, seemed to surprise even Anne herself. Elizabeth watched as the young woman continued, her voice gaining strength as she spoke of mundane matters.

“Perhaps with your pearl earrings rather than the garnets. The lighter colour would be more appropriate for a daytime exhibition.”

Kitty responded eagerly to this opening, and soon the two were engaged in a discussion of appropriate attire for gallery viewings. Elizabeth observed this natural interaction with quiet satisfaction, recognizing it as a small but significant step in Anne’s healing process.

Later, as Elizabeth helped Georgiana reorganise some sheet music after Mr. Townend’s departure, she reflected on the different paths each young woman was finding through grief.

Kitty reached toward life through social engagement, her natural vivacity slowly re-emerging under the viscount’s attentive encouragement.

Georgiana sought solace in music’s structured emotional expression, finding in Mr. Townend a companion who understood both her art and her reticence.

And Anne, perhaps facing the most difficult journey, was beginning, in her quiet way, to reach beyond her grief toward the ordinary concerns of daily life.

Each approach was valid, Elizabeth thought. Each represented courage of a different sort. And in supporting them all, she found her own heart lightening, even as the mystery of Lord Joseph’s murderer remained unsolved.

The late April sunshine cast a gentle warmth over Regent’s Park as Elizabeth led her three young charges along the fashionable paths.

After nearly a month of seclusion and limited social engagements following Lord Joseph’s tragic death, this simple outing felt like a significant step forward.

Elizabeth observed with quiet satisfaction how Kitty’s step had regained much of its natural lightness, how Georgiana’s shy glances at the ornamental gardens betrayed genuine appreciation for their beauty, and how even Anne, though still subdued, seemed to breathe more deeply in the fresh spring air than she had within the confines of Darcy House.

“The rhododendrons are particularly fine this year,” Elizabeth remarked, gesturing toward a cluster of vibrant blooms. “I believe Mr. Nash insisted on importing several rare varieties from the Continent for his grand design.”

“They are lovely,” Georgiana agreed softly. Her pale yellow walking dress complemented the spring flowers, making her look very much a part of the seasonal renewal surrounding them.

Kitty, who had been describing her visit to the Royal Academy exhibition with Viscount Shandly, paused in her narrative to admire the gardens as well.

“The viscount mentioned that the park’s design was quite controversial when first proposed.

Something about the artificial lake seeming unnatural to traditional sensibilities. ”

“Trust Lord Shandly to have an opinion on landscape design,” Elizabeth teased gently, pleased to see her sister’s animation as she spoke of the viscount.

“He has opinions on everything,” Kitty replied with a small smile. “Though he admitted he knows very little about gardens except which ones provide the most advantageous backdrop for his particularly dramatic poses.”

This self-aware comment about the viscount’s theatrical nature drew a genuine laugh from Elizabeth and even a smile from Georgiana. Anne walked slightly apart from them, her gaze distant, though she appeared to be listening to the conversation.