He turned to look down at her, “Shall we get to work?” his voice was as cold as he could make it. It seemed they were all forgetting their boundaries.
Chapter 14
Unhinged
Louisa could not really understand why she felt so hurt. So the Duke had spoken in a cold distant manner with her and since they’d began painting, he barely glanced at her. Why should that bother her? He was merely a commission. That’s all.
Unfortunately, her upset was affecting her concentration and she just could not settle to the work before her. She resorted to tracing in leaves and painting the wood of the chair on which the Duke sat, not trusting herself to work on his mien in the mood she was in.
She didn’t even know why she was miserable.
After an hour, she put down her brush. “I think I am finished for the day,” she said quietly to the Duke so her father could not hear.
He looked directly at her for the first time all morning, his eyes wide with surprise. “I beg your pardon? We’ve hardly gotten started.”
She sighed, not knowing how to say what she wanted without accusing him of hurting her feelings. “Sometimes the muse is silent. It’s better not to force it.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Is that so?”
She looked away, avoiding his eyes, twisting her hands in her lap as she tried to remain impassive. “Yes.”
“Well then…perhaps you would be so kind as to assist me with another project?”
She darted her eyes at him in surprise.
Another project? What does that mean?
“I’m sure you’ve heard that I am taking a personal interest in this year’s fair? I have an idea for the stage on which the performers will entertain. It involves different backdrops, to reflect the different performances.”
Louisa was getting excited just hearing about this.
“I wanted to contract you…and your father of course, to do the backdrops. You will be provided with the canvases and the various performances expected and leave the rest to you. You will, of course, be compensated for your work.”
Louisa nodded jerkily and swallowed, unable to form words.
“What do you think?” Jeremy prompted.
Louisa jerked, “Oh…ah, I am exceeding grateful for the opportunity to do this work.”
The Duke nodded and got to his feet. “Good…well, I shall, leave you now.”
Louisa mimicked him, at a loss of anything to say. She watched him walk out of the room, his mother looking up from where she was deep in conversation with her father. The Dowager’s eyebrow rose in enquiry but the Duke merely nodded and kept walking.
Her Grace looked to Louisa for answers and she shrugged. “We thought we’d stop for the day,” she said with a smile.
“Oh? But why?” if Louisa didn’t know better she’d say that the Dowager sounded plaintive.
“Uh, I…uh…lost my muse,” Louisa whispered the last part of the sentence, mortified that her emotions had gotten the better of her in such a manner. Her father got to his feet.
“You know what my dear, that is a good thing. The Dowager was just telling me about a marvelous gazebo they have in the gardens and how much she would enjoy having a painting of it. Perhaps you can go with her, and see it while I speak with your uncle?”
Louisa nodded eagerly, “Of course.” She hastened forward, taking the Dowager’s arm. “Shall we?”
The Dowager smiled, glanced once at her father before letting Louisa lead her out of the door. They walked in silence until they were out the back door of the manor house. Then the Dowager turned to her with a smile.
“You mustn’t take His Grace’s moods to heart. He is going through a lot what with the transition from sailor to duke.”
Louisa almost jumped in startlement at the words. “W-what? I don’t….”
The Dowager smiled. “I may be an old lady but I was young once. I know the look of infatuation when I see it.”
Louisa’s cheeks colored and she looked anywhere except at the Duchess.
The Dowager chuckled indulgently. “There is no need to be embarrassed, my girl. It is a normal, healthy impulse. I expect my son must seem rather dashing to an innocent such as yourself. Once you have spent some time with him, you’ll see that he is just an ordinary gentleman.”
Louisa did not know where to look.
The Dowager laughed. “I’ll change the subject now because I see that you’re embarrassed. I didn’t mean to do that to you, I apologize.”
“Don’t apologize. You’re right – in spite of my best efforts I do feel…an affinity for your son.” She turned to look earnestly at the Dowager, raising her hands in supplication, “I know that it’s impossible – I’m not that much of a dreamer don’t you worry – it’s just that…he is fascinating.”
The Dowager nodded in agreement. “That he is.”
She pulled Louisa closer, and they walked companionably on until they came to the gazebo. Louisa stopped short with a gasp, taking in the climbing roses and vines in a burst of color around the wooden pagoda-like structure surrounding a stone bench windingly shaped like a swimming whale.
“It’s beautiful,” she sighed.
The Dowager smiled at her. “You think so?”
“Yes. Yes, I do. It’s so peaceful and quiet. So beautiful.” Her fingers itched to put it down on canvas.
Her Grace sighed. “You and your father should stay at the manor as our guests while you do the work. You can move into the dower house – there is plenty of space for you to work on various canvases at the same time and the huge bay windows will give you such good light.”
Louisa shook her head regretfully. “My father would never agree to that. He is immensely stubborn and is not one to take charity from others.”
“It’s not charity!” the Dowager hastened to protest. “It is simply convenient…for me. We have so much work for you to do and freed from the distractions of being transported back and forth, not worrying about cooking or laundry…it will free up a lot of your time. I cannot wait to see your rendition of the gazebo. Really, I am most impatient.”
Louisa had to hand it to the Duchess, for making it look as if they were doing her a favor. “In that case, I shall try to convince my father.”
The Dowager patted her hand. “Oh no, leave that to me. Why don’t I leave you here to absorb the atmosphere and I shall go and see your father?”
“Oh no, I cannot ask you to–” Louisa was shaking her head frantically as she unconsciously clutched the Dowager’s arm.
“You haven’t asked. I offered.”
Louisa nodded, pressing her lips together to prevent further protest. The Dowager patted her hand one more time before turning away and walking back to the house. Louisa watched her go before going to sit on the stone bench.
She had a lot to think about.
* * *
“I am still quite amazed that the Dowager Duchess and the Duke agreed to this arrangement of yours. The girl must have quite a bit of talent.”
Americus glared at his brother. “Her name is Louisa as you well know.”
“Oh, trust me, I do know. And I was trying to pay her a compliment…and you. You have taught her well.”
Americus sighed deeply and refrained from rolling his eyes.
“I do hope that she is up to this task, otherwise we shall all pay the price.” Gilbert said.
“She is.” Americus bit out and turned away from his brother. Gilbert looked down at his brother’s shaking hands.
“You are getting worse, are you not?”
“None of your business.”
“Oh Americus, such ingratitude. Who do you think planted in the Dowager’s ear that she should accept your offer?”
Americus gave him a cynical look. “Did you not say, just now, that you’re amazed she agreed to our offer?”
“Just because I’m amazed does not mean I did not speak for you.”
“Let me guess. Now you are about to ask for payment?”
Americus snorted cynically. “Let us not lie to each other brother. Nothing you ever do is without benefit to yourself.”
“And that is a bad thing? How else am I to survive?”
Americus simply looked away, shaking his head in disapproval.
“Well, since you offered…”
“And there it is,” Americus interjected.
“…there is something you can do for me.”
“Pray tell me how I can make your life better, brother.”
“The young Duke – he is a bit…resistant…to my charms. I would appreciate it if you put in a good word for me.”
Americus snorted. “Resistant is it?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it is not as if we are his confidantes. We are here simply to paint his portrait.”
“You sell yourself short, brother. I think you are a lot more than that.”
There was a sharp knock on the door and then it opened and the Dowager filled the doorway. “Mr. Notley, may I have a word?”
They both got to their feet.
The Dowager’s laughter rang out, startling Gilbert. “I meant the painter, not the steward.”
Americus shot forward. “Of course, Your Grace.”
The Dowager inclined her head. “Walk with me.”
Americus fell into step beside the Dowager and they walked in silence. He thought about asking where Louisa was but he did not want to seem as if he was questioning her. Undoubtedly, wherever she was, she was all right.
Unless the Dowager was leading him to her because she was hurt or–
“Calm yourself Mr. Notley. Your daughter is quite all right. I left her at the gazebo to plan her drawings.”
Americus relaxed, glancing at the Dowager in astonishment, wondering how she had known what he was thinking.
“When you worry, your brow crinkles and your eyes go to slits. I think there is nothing else to worry you at the moment, except your daughter’s whereabouts…” she smiled smugly as his astonishment rose.
“You read my mind Your Grace.”
“No, people are just much easier to read than they think; if one is paying attention.”
“That is very profound, Your Grace.”
“Oh, do call me Eleanor. I should like to think that we are friends.”
Americus glanced at her. “As much as men and women can be friends in this world.”
She cast him a wry glance. “Indeed. I think we should keep our friendship to ourselves then, so that it is not impacted by the world.”
“Indeed.”
They walked along slowly, Americus following the Dowager Duchess’ lead.
“So, how bad is it really?”
“How bad is what?” Americus turned to favor her with a raised eyebrow.
“Your illness. Just how bad is it?”
“It’s not so bad yet. I can still function. It’s simply work that takes a certain amount of precision that I cannot do.”
“And the pain?”
“What pain?”
The Dowager smiled. “You do not hide it as well as you think.”
Americus sighed. “Sometimes it’s terrible. I was given a herb by wise woman that helps me.”
The Dowager gave him a sidelong glance. “Is that so? Does she have anything for persistent headaches and nightmares?”
Americus glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “I imagine so. Shall I make inquiries? Discreetly of course.”
“If it pleases you.”
They came to a stop at the beginning of a footpath that led to the door of a cottage.
“This is the dower house,” she said pointing at it. “I offered it to yourself and your daughter to stay for the duration of your commission. She was agreeable, if you are. So, friend, what do you say?”
Americus stared at the house in some surprise. “I couldn’t possibly–”
“I have so enjoyed your company, Mr. Notley, and I have felt more alert and present since you have been around. I should consider it a great favor if you would consider staying a while.”
Americus gaped at her, not having expected an emotional appeal from a duchess. “I…”
The Dowager Duchess looped her arm through his. “I shall take that as a yes,” she said as she led him to the door, “Please, have a look inside and tell me what changes you require.”
Americus was about to protest that they did not need to change a single thing for them, but then closed it again as the Dowager gave him a look. “Thank you, I should be delighted.”
“You’re very welcome.” The Dowager smiled at him and he turned looking at the picturesque cottage and shaking his head. It really was bigger than any home he had ever lived in.
He looked down at the Duchess speculatively.
These people really are rather lonely and isolated.
He understood that being a painter of the nobility, he was not really a member of the artisan class. He was no closer to being nobility himself, but he was interesting enough to be treated as somewhat of an equal. He understood that. He also understood that living in Munboro, isolated from the ton by choice and by the reputation of her son, she did not have many people to confide in that were not directly her employees.
But Americus was different. He was not really an employee, and he was not nobility. As a result, he suspected that perhaps the Duchess could relax in his presence more than she had been able to do for a long time.
She was going through a rough patch and even though the way that she framed her request deliberately made it sound as if they were doing her a favor, Americus suspected that they actually were.
The Dowager Duchess was in pain too, although hers did not manifest in her body. Perhaps they could help each other, truly.
He nodded, holding out his arm to her. “Let us go in search of my daughter and tell her the news that we are changing our address for a while.”
She smiled wide and delighted. “That is indeed good news.”
* * *
Louisa sat, lost in thought, wondering at her reaction to the Duke this morning. Why had she acted like a jilted lover? It was beyond mortifying and she needed to get herself in hand.
“Miss Notley!”
She jumped, shooting to her feet as the object of her thoughts suddenly appeared at the doorway of the gazebo. “Your Grace…I-”
He took a step closer. “What are you doing here?”
“I…uh…your mother left me here to absorb the atmosphere. She would like me to paint this.”
He looked around as if disconcerted. “Oh, well…isn’t that too much work for one person?”
Louisa smiled. “I don’t really look on it as work. Painting this place would be my pleasure.”
Jeremy took another step closer. “Be that as it may, I do not want you to be too tired out.”
“Oh, your mother thought of that too. She offered us a place to stay for the duration.”
“A place to stay? Here? On the manor grounds?”
“Y-yes.”
“Oh,” the Duke looked away and Louisa wondered if he was displeased by this news.
“Well…that should be…interesting,” he said before coming to sit down beside her.
Chapter 15
Allow Me
Louisa’s eyebrows almost disappeared into her cap as His Grace lowered himself to the bench next to her. She looked around, realizing that they were all alone.
Immediately she got to her feet. “I should be going. My father would not be happy for me to be here alone with you.”
The Duke shrugged. “Indeed not. However, you are just as safe with me as you are with him.”
Louisa could not help the tiny twist of disappointment at those words. They sounded as if the Duke considered her to be equivalent to his daughter.
“I mean; I feel just as protective of you as he does I think. I do not know why, but I do.”
Louisa wondered if he was reading her mind or was she simply
that obvious. She colored at the thought that everything she thought showed on her face.
“Don’t worry, it’s just that I pay attention. Your face is not an open book.”
Tempting The Ruined Duke (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 12
