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“There we are.” Lady Waverley lifted her hand towards the wall. “This is the painting by J.M.W Turner.”

Dutifully, Rosalyn looked up at the painting, taking in the scene.

“This is the Thames, I believe,” Lady Waverley explained, gesturing to the painting. “It is where it joins the North Sea, so the waves are turbulent, are they not?”

Rosalyn made a murmur of agreement, thinking to herself that the distinction between the dark clouds and the brightness of the sails gave the impression of turbulence, just as Lady Waverley had said.

The sun, she noticed, was still present but covered by the darkness, as if it were doing its best to shine through them but could not succeed.

“This must be Sheerness, then,” Lady Whittaker stated, gesturing to the far shore painted in the distance. “And the River Medway.”

Given her complete lack of knowledge and her less than sure knowledge of the artist in question, Rosalyn ducked her head, thinking to herself that she ought to do a little more learning about such things.

Miss Sherwood, one of the other bluestockings, was specifically interested in art and the like and no doubt would berate her – albeit in a teasing manner – for her lack of knowledge about J.M.W Turner!

“I am so very glad the dinner has gone well.” Lady Waverley came to stand beside Rosalyn as the other ladies moved through the hallway, looking at each piece in turn.

“And that Lord Stockton took such an interest in the painting.” She smiled quietly.

“It means that not everyone in the ton will believe my son is desperately impoverished – though that is only because, I think, my late husband forgot that these things were here. Had he recalled them, then he would have sold them and used them for his own selfish purposes.”

Rosalyn smiled sympathetically, having known Lady Waverley for many a year and, in that, becoming very fond of her. “It has been truly delightful to see so many appreciating his company – and yours,” she said, softly. “I have been sorry to hear some of the whispers and rumors.”

Lady Waverley glanced at her, then looked away.

“It has been very painful, though he does not share a great deal with me. Instead, he likes to make sure that all is well with me and does not like to trouble me with his difficulties, though I see them all the same.” She took Rosalyn’s arm, patting her hand with her other one.

“I am very grateful to you and your brother for your kindness and your understanding. Your brother has always been such a close friend of Waverley’s, and your letters to him and to me these last long months have been such a balm in our sorrow and grief.

I cannot tell you how much I am looking forward to your mother’s arrival in London.

Your family have been a great blessing to mine and I hope you know just how valuable you are to us both. ”

Rosalyn’s heart filled with compassion. She could not imagine all that the lady had endured, could not think for even a moment what it must be like at the present moment for her. “I feel the very same way.”

Something flickered in Lady Waverley’s eyes and she opened her mouth, only to close it again and look away. Rosalyn said nothing, looking at the lady steadily and wondering what it was she had been about to say.

Eventually, Lady Waverley sighed but with it came a smile.

“Waverley thinks very highly of you, my dear,” she said, looking back at Rosalyn again.

“He may not say it aloud but I do not think he could have had any sort of happiness here in London without the company of you and your brother. Your stalwart defense of him, your determination to encourage him into society have been noticed and appreciated.”

“Thank you,” Rosalyn answered, not quite certain what else to say. “I would do anything I could for your son, you must know that. He is as much a brother as my own for I think of you both as family.”

Lady Waverley’s smile faded just a little. “I do not know if Waverley would say the same, my dear,” she said, making Rosalyn frown. “Though I do not mean that in any bad way, of course.”

Rosalyn opened her mouth to ask her what she meant by that remark, confused and a little upset by it, only for Miss Martin, Lady Pleasance’s daughter, to come towards them, asking a question about one of the vases nearby.

Rosalyn stepped back and allowed Lady Waverley to give her full attention to the lady whilst inwardly trying to come to some sort of understanding about what had been said.

Why would Lord Waverley not see her as much a sister as she saw him as a brother?

Was there something wrong? Something she had not yet seen?

And if there was, then how exactly was she to approach the subject without causing any difficulty?

Still frowning as they made their way to the drawing room to take tea, Rosalyn tried to push the thoughts from her mind but the more she attempted to do so, the worse they became until she could think of nothing else but him.