Page 21 of The Quiet Wife (Stately Scandals #2)
London - Kensington
Frances listened in quiet amazement to Mr Jeckyll as he discussed the dining room at length, how he was planning to cover the walls with sixteenth century hangings that were once part of the dowry of Catherine of Aragon.
Something else her husband had apparently purchased for an astronomical sum.
The cabinetry that Frederick had described was more a lattice framework of walnut which would house the porcelain, apparently from China.
There would be walnut shutters, pendant lights…
and they had decided that Jemie’s portrait, The Princess from the Land of Porcelain , would adorn one wall.
She supposed it was appropriate, given the amount of porcelain the room would hold.
It was exhausting just listening to Mr Jeckyll, who was incredibly intense.
One might say, driven. His plans were apparently in the Anglo-Japanese style, and the dining room would become the ‘porzellanzimmer’ or the Porcelain room.
Frances wondered if she would ever be allowed to entertain or even eat within it, for fear of doing damage.
She glanced at her husband. He was hanging on Jeckyll’s every word.
It sounded more like an art gallery than a family dining room.
She looked at all the papers strewn over Frederick’s desk, spilling onto the chairs.
She rubbed a finger against her temple, feeling a headache coming on.
“It sounds quite remarkable, Mr Jeckyll. Very detailed. Ah, very impressive. Um… How long do you think it might take to complete?” she asked with a bright smile after Frederick gave her a stern glare that indicated he expected her to say something.
It was clearly entirely the wrong thing to say as the man went an interesting shade of pink and his abundant mutton-chop whiskers quivered with outrage.
“Madam. It is completely impossible to put a timeframe on such an undertaking. This will be a room like no other. It will be utterly unique, a work of art in and of itself. One cannot possibly say how long.”
“Of course not, Jeckyll,” Frederick said in soothing tones, shooting her a furious look. “Please forgive my wife.”
As Frederick calmed Mr Jeckyll, she made her excuses and left them to their deliberations, not wanting to listen to any more of Jeckyll’s outbursts or her husband’s stinging comments.
She called for her carriage and headed back to the safety of the parlour in the Queen’s Gate house with a headache, wishing she were at home in Speke. Things were much more comfortable there. She settled herself with tea, when a commotion in the hallway drew her attention.
The door opened and in tumbled Lizzie with Edith and William, all of them laughing. Alastair and Mr Carlisle followed close on their heels, making her smile. At last, some sane company.
“How lovely to see you all,” she beamed as the footman divested them of outer garments.
“Do come and have tea.”
“Jemie isn’t far behind,” Alastair rubbed his hands together. “We’ve been to the galleries. It was most interesting. Lord, but that man knows what he’s about. He’s utterly fascinating to listen to.”
Frances laughed but wished she’d been with them and heard what he had to say rather than being bored by Frederick’s tedious plans for the new house.
William settled himself opposite Edith and smiled at Frances.
“So, how are the discussions going with the architect?”
Frances nodded politely. “Fascinating. It will be lovely.”
Lizzie seemed unconvinced.
“Really, it will. It’s very… dramatic.”
The door opened, and the footman announced Jemie’s arrival.
“Has Jeckyll been?” he queried as he accepted a cup of tea.
“He is with my husband at Prince’s Gate as we speak. I’m afraid I upset him by asking how long the venture might take, so I excused myself.”
Jemie considered her for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed which cheered her immensely.
“Apparently, a man cannot put a time on a work of art,” she did her best impression of him, before bursting into a fit of giggles when everyone laughed with them.
Jemie grinned and sat facing Frances.
“Well, it’s certainly taking you a while to finish Leyland’s portrait,” William put in as the mirth subsided.
Jemie dipped his head in acknowledgement of the hit.
“I’m told that the room will be Anglo-Japanese, and your picture of the Princess from the Land of Porcelain will be the centrepiece. It sounds rather exciting,” Frances said.
Jemie sipped his tea. “The man has good taste.”
Edith chuckled. “I wager you’d love to get your hands on that room.”
Frances watched with a bubbling sense of anticipation as he offered them all a very prim look. “Not at all. I have several portraits to complete, and my responsibility will be to the staircase. I shall create panels that will rival a Medici palace.”
They all stared at him, and he burst out laughing again and shook his head. “Lord, your faces! You are all so gullible. Yes, of course I’d love to get my hands on it. What it needs now is flair and imagination, not… cabinets .”
There was a moment’s stunned silence, but then everyone laughed with him, his words clearly striking a chord. Frances held a hand to her mouth as gaiety bubbled up and spilled over.
As they all wiped their eyes and settled back down Frances shook her head. “From what Mr Jeckyll said, it will be fabulous. You need to finish Frederick’s portrait and then you need to do mine. Leave the dining room alone!”
She held her breath after the words came out worrying what his reaction would be, but Jemie’s smile was infinitely warm.
He sat back and his eyes twinkled in that way that made her tingle inside.
She wished she could tell him how utterly exhilarating it was to speak freely and with humour in his company.
“You are, as ever, right, dear lady. I do need to finish your husband off.”
Alastair snorted. “If you get your hands on the dining room, you’ll definitely finish Leyland off.”
They all fell about laughing again and Frances couldn’t remember when she’d last felt so… happy.
Jemie lifted his hands, indicating for them to settle down. “Leyland appreciates my work. The man knows a good thing when he sees it. However, I think I’ve cracked the conundrum of how to approach his portrait. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. It’s as clear as day.”
“You do?” Mr Carlisle leaned forward. “Do tell.”
Frances sat forward as Jemie nodded. “I’m going for a Velásquez style. Black on black. Limited colour palette.”
They all looked a little baffled.
“Black on black?” William said, puzzlement clear on his handsome face. “Won’t that be a little… dark?”
Jemie rolled his eyes. “Black background, black clothes, but an emphasis on the face. God, man, have you never seen a Velásquez?”
Jemie was vibrating with excitement, and it was catching. Frances’ heart was fluttering in her chest.
William shrugged and shook his head in good humour.
“Do you…” Frances began, and they all looked at her. She swallowed. “Do you mean the way he painted the King of Spain?”
Jemie’s face lit from within. His smile warmed her from her flushed cheeks to the tips of her toes.
“I mean exactly that my dear, dear lady. Thank you. At least one of you possess some artistic understanding.”
Frances felt her cheeks glow as she basked in this unfamiliar praise. Jemie held her gaze for a brief moment, before he turned back to the group.
He jumped to his feet and gestured grandly with his hands. “He will emerge from the dark with only his face illuminated. It will be,” he paused. “It will be called ‘An Arrangement in Black’. There, you heard it here first. My next completed piece. It will be stunning.”
“Well, he is still rather handsome, so I imagine he will look very grand.” Edith murmured approvingly.
“He will be by the time I’ve finished with him,” Jemie grinned. “And when we have Frances captured beside him…” his eyes sparkled with a wicked gleam. “They will be like the Liverpool Medici!”
They all stared at him in delight.
“That’s damned brilliant!” Alastair announced. “Apologies, ladies,” he said with a cheeky grimace about his language and a glance at his disapproving sister.
“When will we be able to dine in this veritable palace of wonder?” Mr Carlisle asked her.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know what Frederick’s plans are, and poor Mr Jeckyll got terribly upset when I talked about the time it would take. I was hoping we could move before the end of the season, but I suspect it is going to be a long process.”
“He’s aiming for having it all done by next spring, in time for the season.” Jemie grimaced.
Frances’ heart sank. “But I thought it was almost done?”
He shook his head.
“Oh well,” she murmured, trying to mask the excitement she felt at the prospect of having Jemie working in the house for a whole year. “It would make a good deal of sense.”
Edith reached over and squeezed her hand. “Well, at least you know you will be here for the foreseeable future. You can enjoy London, you can take the girls about, go to the theatre, attend all the best parties…” Edith shrugged. “You can have fun!”
Frances nodded. “We will be back in Speke for the summer, and I shall look forward to that.”
“Your husband suggested I join you during the summer months to paint your portrait,” Jemie surprised her.
“Oh, how lovely!” Lizzie clapped her hands together approvingly. “Are you going to draw us all again? The children will be utterly thrilled!”
Jemie chuckled. “I’m sure I shall. I have no resistance against you all.”
Frances stole a glance at Jemie. “Will your mama join us? It would be wonderful if she could.”
“I’m sure she’d love to.”
“We will probably stay in town until the season ends. The children are joining us tomorrow and they will want to visit the sights.” She smiled at Edith and William.
“I’m hoping that you might lend Lizzie and myself countenance as it looks as though Frederick will be returning to Speke much sooner, so we will need chaperoning. ”