Page 56 of The Earl's Reluctant Artist

He did not answer that. Instead, he turned to Eliza. “If it pleases my lady, I must see to his lordship’s shirts.”

Eliza nodded. “Of course, Mr. Hale.”

He turned sharply and departed, leaving Clara staring after him.

“He doesn’t seem like a friendly fellow,” Clara said once his footsteps faded.

“Be careful,” Eliza cautioned gently. “He served in the war.”

Clara snorted. “Oh well, that explains the manner. He’s the brooding soldier type, is he not?”

“It’s certainly a problem here at Evermore,” Eliza muttered with a small laugh, and together they climbed the stairs toward her chambers.

Once inside, Clara’s gaze moved eagerly about the room, taking in the tall windows, the delicate curtains, and the neat arrangements upon the writing desk. “This is lovely. It is far grander than the rooms you had at your home.”

“I shall try my best to not be offended by that.”

Clara turned to Eliza, a smile on her face. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

Eliza smiled. “The maids are preparing your chamber now. It will not be long. But for the moment, we can stay here.”

Clara flung herself onto a chair, stretching as if she had traveled a hundred miles on foot. “Then let us catch up at once. I cannot wait to hear everything.”

Eliza settled opposite her. “Where do I begin? The atelier, perhaps. Tristan had it renovated for me. It is nearly finished, and I shall finally have a place to paint.”

Clara leaned forward, eyes wide. “So he does not mind? Not one objection?”

“Not at all,” Eliza replied. “His mother used to paint as well. He told me that a few days back.”

“Ah,” Clara said, nodding. “That makes sense.”

Eliza hesitated, her fingers playing along the fabric of her skirt. “He is beginning to open up to me, in small ways. But sometimes I wonder if it will all vanish tomorrow. If he will retreat again into silence.”

Clara tilted her head. “Is that what you are worried about? For him, or for yourself?”

Eliza’s lips pressed together. “For the marriage itself. What if it does not work?”

Clara chuckled softly. “It has been, what, two months? Do not start to discourage yourself so soon, Eliza.” She smirked. “Or should I say Lady Vale?”

Eliza groaned. “Only when the servants are around. Aunt Evelyn insists on it.”

Clara’s brows rose. “Aunt Evelyn? Do I even want to know the story behind that?”

Eliza waved a hand. “You will meet her soon enough. And you will understand why I say it that way.” She reached for Clara’s hands, squeezing them tightly. “I am simply glad you are here.”

Clara’s eyes softened. “I am glad, too.”

They fell into another hug, one that Eliza clung to, perhaps longer than she should have, but she could not help it. Eliza could feel it even now as she stared at her friend. Her overall mood had changed. It would only be a matter of time before her friend’s arrival properly affected all of Evermore.

Chapter 15

One of the things Tristan could admit he enjoyed at the very least was a trip around the estate. While it was partly because he could stay in the carriage for most of the occasion and not have to deal with the sun, it was also because it helped him oversee the estate properly and see what his people were up to.

He directed the driver to go into the village, and as they passed the front of the tavern, his eyes narrowed.

A rather familiar man was sitting by the window inside the tavern, his shoulders bent and a bottle pressed to his lips. Tristan narrowed his eyes as he grew closer.

It was Mr. Jones.