The Art of Love

by Lacey, Lilac

  ‘She’s very young,’ Freddie, interrupted his contemplation, sounding a little censorious.

  Leo turned and raised his eyebrows at him. ‘She’s not that young,’ he said at last when Freddie made no move to back down. He was starting to feel irritated. What business of Freddie’s was Tara’s age?

  ‘She’s barely eighteen!’ Freddie said, going rather red and, despite knowing it wouldn’t help with appeasing him, Leo started to laugh. ‘What? What the…’ Freddie blustered.

  ‘I don’t have my eye on Lady Antonia,’ Leo said as placatingly as he could. But really the idea was absurd, the girl was, as Freddie had said, very young, and while she was a well educated child, as a woman she held no interest for him whatsoever.

  ‘Has Lady Tara caught your fancy, then?’ Freddie said shrewdly. Leo didn’t answer, but Freddie seemed to interpret that in the affirmative. ‘You’re not the first to fall under her spell,’ he said, ‘and you won’t be the last.’

  ‘Tara doesn’t take any man seriously,’ Rodney chimed in, and Leo thought he caught a hint of wistfulness in his host’s demeanour.

  ‘It’s all about the thrill of the chase with her,’ Freddie said wisely. ‘For both parties. She’ll dance with you, she’ll let you take her to the opera and you might even win a kiss at the end of it, but she won’t let herself get caught by any fellow thinking of marriage. Isn’t that right, Hulme?’ he added slyly.

  Rodney took the jibe in good part, shrugging ruefully and Leo wondered, not for the first time, why Tara had been so against marrying him. He was heir to a prosperous estate, he was handsome and appeared to be unfailingly good humoured. Unlike himself on two counts out of three, he thought wryly. He at least was no longer heir to his father’s gambling debts, having dispensed with them with the sale of the remains of the estate, but even his closest friends would not deny he could be moody. The only thing he had in his favour was his appearance, with the objective eye of an artist he could see that his looks were more than passable.

  But Freddie had given him something to think about. Was it possible that Tara’s dismissal of Philippe La Monte was not based on his financial circumstances, but rather was a reluctance to tie herself down with marriage at all? If so perhaps he had as much chance as the next man. He resolved over dinner to let herself prove for once and for all if her snobbishness was genuine, then he would know, at last, where he stood.

  Chapter Seven

  Leo found he didn’t have a chance to cross-examine Tara over dinner. For a start she was seated on old Lord Hulme’s right, while he was at the far end of the table, next to Susannah’s mother, Lady Maude, secondly he suddenly realized that he would prefer to make his assessment of Tara’s character in a far more private situation, and finally, as the soup was being served Rodney leaned across to Tara and said something which made her turn pale in a way he had never seen her do before. After that Tara hardly said a word and Leo wondered how he could find out what Rodney had said to upset her.

  He was on the point of asking Rodney to step outside with him for a moment so he could interrogate him when the soup bowls were cleared away and Rodney tapped with the handle of his knife on his wine glass. The ringing sound cut clearly through the conversation and everyone looked at him in expectant silence. ‘I would like to make an announcement,’ Rodney said. ‘Today is my father’s birthday. He is sixty eight.’

  ‘Congratulations, sir,’ Freddie said, leaning forward to shake Lord Hulme’s hand. Leo added his own felicitations but he couldn’t help noticing that Tara looked paler than ever. He wondered if she were ill and if she would like him to escort her to her room. But she was pleating her napkin between her fingers in a way which suggested she was nervous, rather than unwell.

  ‘After dinner I have a very special present for him,’ Rodney said. ‘It is being put in place at the moment, meanwhile I would like to propose a toast to my father, Lord Hulme.’

  ‘Lord Hulme!’ His name rippled round the table as everyone raised their glasses and Lord Hulme beamed back at everyone, clearly enjoying the attention. But in the midst of it all Leo suddenly found his eyes locked with Tara’s. She looked quite miserable and he realized at once what the source of her unease was. She was feeling completely overwhelmed at the thought of everyone viewing her portrait.

  His heart went out to her at once. It was easy for him, the prospect of his work being made public. It was what he painted for, the moment when other people looked at his painting and it spoke to them, communicating what the artist saw and could never put into words, but it was quite different for the subject. He had seen this before in his clients, a sudden attack of shyness at the thought of friends and relatives scrutinizing their image, immortalized in oil on canvas. But it was usually the plainer people who were taken this way, never before had Leo seen a beautiful woman suddenly become reticent about the admiration her portrait was bound to receive. Then it crossed his mind to wonder whether or not Tara knew that she was beautiful. Surely she did, she had seen the portrait, not to mention the face she saw in her own mirror each morning and evening. But the only explanation he could find for her sudden reticence was that she was not confident of her own beauty. You are magnificent! He wanted to tell her and tried to express it with his eyes. Perhaps he succeeded just a little for after a moment she gave him the slightest of smiles and applied herself to the beef the footman had just placed before her.

  After that he hadn’t the heart to try and find out how deeply held her snobbish convictions were. Tara merely toyed with her food throughout the meal and ate only two spoonfuls of her stewed apple when it was served for desert. At lunch she had eaten as heartily as the rest of them and Leo suspected that it was completely out of character for her to not enjoy a meal. From their first meeting Tara had struck him as a woman who relished life to the full.

  At the end of the supper Rodney was the first to rise from his seat. ‘Please accompany me to the long gallery,’ he said to his father and his guests. Freddie was closer to Tara but Leo moved more swiftly. This was not the time to consider Freddie’s feelings about being saddled with his cousin, Tara needed him and he would not let anyone else stand in the way.

  Until the moment that Rodney had whispered in her ear and told her that her portrait was being hung in preparation for its presentation to Lord Hulme, Tara had not considered what it would be like to have herself permanently on show at Wallingford Manor. But then it struck her that every visitor would be shown her painting as part of the tour of the house from now on. They would be able to scrutinise her and see all her imperfections, faithfully rendered by Leo. She glanced down the table at him and he smiled encouragingly. For a moment Tara was reassured, he had painted her so that she appeared beautiful. Then an even more horrid thought struck her, she would be with the other guests when they saw the painting. What if they then turned and compared it with the real thing? What if they found her far less attractive than the portrait Leo had painted? She gave up carving her steak completely and stared at her plate with unseeing eyes. It was inevitable that they would find her less lovely than her portrait, the best she could hope for was that they had the manners not to say so.

  When desert was cleared away, Tara rose slowly from her seat, trying to postpone the moment of truth and then she felt a warm hand on hers and Leo was taking her arm in his. ‘May I escort you, Lady Tara?’ he asked swiftly, as if cutting out someone else at a ball.

  Slightly bewildered, Tara nodded and Leo led her in Rodney’s wake, through the house to a long corridor running down the north side. This was the Hulme’s gallery. She was in good company, Tara thought wryly, recognising paintings by Turner, Gainsborough and Constable. The Hulme lands and family had been painted only by the best. Now there would be a Fosse joining their ranks, she thought, and wondered for the first time if Leo were as nervous as she was. But he seemed perfectly composed, eager even, she thought, from the way he led her briskly down to the far end of the gallery, keen to show off his work and receive the adul
ation he deserved.

  ‘Happy Birthday, father,’ Rodney said as the he drew the group to a halt. ‘Here is your present.’ Tara found she hardly dared raise her eyes and when she did it was the faces of the other people, all looking at her portrait, which arrested her. They were looking at the painting, some appreciatively and others politely, but so far no one had yet turned to look at her in disbelief or scorn.

  ‘What a beautiful gift!’ Lord Hulme exclaimed. He shook hands with Rodney enthusiastically then came over to Tara and embraced her. His whiskery kiss on her cheek was fleeting and through it she was well aware that Leo had not relinquished his hold on her. His firm grip on her arm gave her some strength and she found she was able to smile quite steadily at Lord Hulme. ‘Thank you, my dear, for agreeing to be painted. I am very happy to be able to add the portrait of the daughter of an old friend to my collection, and the fact that she is a beautiful woman only adds to my pleasure.’

  ‘You are too kind, Lord Hulme,’ Tara managed to say, and she was sure she would not even have been able to do more than nod if Leo had not been supporting her.

  ‘That’s a cracker of a picture, Tara,’ Freddie said. ‘You look just like you did that time at Almack’s last year, you remember? The time Philippe gate-crashed and was about to be thrown out and you claimed him as your cousin.’

  At the mention of Philippe’s name Tara felt Leo’s grip on her arm suddenly tighten, but it was a fleeting sensation, and looking at him he appeared as composed as ever. Still, she wondered, could he possibly be jealous of the Frenchman? Rodney was grinning from ear to ear with the success of his present and Tara saw that the gentlemen at least, were not inclined to compare her unfavourably with her portrait. She relaxed a little.

  ‘We should congratulate the artist on painting such an accurate likeness,’ Rodney said.

  ‘Hear, hear,’ Freddie said while Lord Hulme looked at Leo contemplatively.

  ‘You’re a dark horse,’ he said.

  ‘I think it is time we ladies withdrew,’ Lady Maude interrupted, asserting herself in her role as chaperone. Dutifully Susannah fell into step by her mother and Tara had no choice but to make her way to the green drawing room with the other women. But as she parted from Leo she looked back at him, wondering what Lord Hulme had meant. She had the distinct impression that he knew considerably more about Leo than she did herself.

  The next day dawned as bright the last, although noticeably warmer, Tara thought, and wondered if a thunderstorm were on the way. When she came downstairs for breakfast she ran into Rodney in the front hall, peeing at the barometer. ‘It’s fixed on fair, he said, looking pleased. ‘I have a marvellous scheme for today; we can ride over to St Bourne’s Priory and take a picnic. It’s about five miles away, the ladies can travel in the landau and the gentlemen can ride.’

  ‘Have you no mounts suitable for ladies?’ Tara asked and then suddenly remembered Antonia conversing with Leo at Freddie’s dinner party on the subject of riding. No doubt she was a far more accomplished horsewoman than she was herself. Tara’s riding had been far more for practical purposes than for show. To her riding was a way to cross the family estate, not a means of parading herself in Regent’s Park. ‘But you are right,’ she added hastily, ‘five miles is a long way. The landau will be far more appropriate.’

  But she was too late. ‘No, no, you have made a good point,’ Rodney said. ‘No doubt the chaperones will prefer to travel in the landau, but why should the young ladies be so confined? I shall send a message for ladies’ mounts to be prepared at once.’

  Rodney rang for a servant and Tara made her way to the breakfast room. To her delight she found only Leo and Freddie there. She was beginning to find the company of the other ladies rather wearing and after the unveiling of her portrait last night she had pleaded tiredness and gone to bed, rather than wait for the inevitable unfavourable comparison of herself with her picture to be voiced.

  ‘We are to ride to St Bourne’s today,’ she said gaily, her heart lifting at the thought of a long ride in the country and firmly dismissing any thought that her handling of her horse might not be as good as Antonia’s. The day promised to be fun and she would be in Leo’s company, that was all that mattered.

  Leo raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Ride?’ he asked laconically. ‘I thought the ladies were to travel by carriage.’

  ‘The ladies were,’ Tara said, grinning back at him, ‘Rodney changed his mind. Those of us who would prefer to go on horseback will be able to do so.’

  ‘I didn’t know you rode, Tara,’ Freddie said. ‘I’ve never seen you out in town.’

  ‘I don’t keep a horse in London,’ Tara said. ‘I prefer to ride a little faster than one can down Rotten Row.’

  ‘People do gallop down it early in the morning, when there’s no one much about,’ Leo observed.

  Freddie shuddered. ‘I am never out and about at such a time of day and I am quite sure Tara is not either.’ If pushed Tara knew she would have to admit she rarely left her house before eleven in the morning, but she was suddenly reluctant to reveal to Leo what a decadent lifestyle she led. She was saved from having to answer by the arrival of Susannah and Antonia, who were both full of chatter about the proposed trip.

  They made short work of breakfast, but as she rose to leave the room and dress for riding, Freddie caught Tara’s sleeve and held her back. ‘You seem to have gained another admirer,’ he said slyly, when they were alone.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Tara asked, taken aback, surely he couldn’t be referring to Lord Hulme?

  ‘Fosse,’ Freddie said. ‘Just look at how he painted you, you’re radiant in that picture. He’s completely fallen for you. Not that it’s not a good likeness,’ he added hastily, misinterpreting her silence. ‘But Fosse is clearly quite stricken by you. You could do worse,’ he said cryptically and left the room, leaving Tara quite speechless.

  Did Freddie really mean to say he thought Leo was in love with her? It was a delicious thought. But would Leo act on it, and if he did could she accept him? She would have to renew her efforts to discover more about his background. She was a lady and she had an obligation to marry among her own social class. She could not disgrace her family by making an unsuitable match, her mother and Richard had had quite enough to contend with, living with the shame of her father’s suicide. Any decision she made had to take them into consideration quite as much as herself. Then she shook her head, she was getting ahead of herself, all she had to go on was Freddie’s speculation, Leo had not even kissed her. She should not worry about the future yet.

  Rodney had picked out a bay mare for Tara, called Willow. She stood still enough by the mounting block but danced around the stable yard once Tara was in the saddle. ‘Don’t worry,’ Rodney called encouragingly. ‘She’ll settle down when we’re on the move, she’ll fall in beside Ash, she’s taken a fancy to him.’

  It was easy for Rodney to say, Tara thought a little alarmed by her horse’s behaviour as it skittered over the cobblestones. She was vaguely aware of the others mounting, and of brisk discussion over which horse each was to ride, but most of her attention was taken up by Willow. Then, as if by magic, the mare suddenly settled and stood calmly by the stable gate, looking out at the woodland beyond. Perhaps she had a way with horses after all, Tara thought jubilantly. She looked over her shoulder to see if anyone else had noticed and found she was looking up at Leo who was mounted on a grey horse a good couple hands higher than her own. ‘You’re riding Ash!’ she said. It wasn’t her latent skill with horses that had calmed Willow, it was the presence of the horse she had taken a shine to. Then it dawned on her, Leo had contrived to ride that very horse. ‘You’re riding Ash!’ she repeated and smiled up at him laughingly.

  As Rodney had said, Willow was keen to stay at Ash’s side. The party rode in couples down the lane, the landau bearing Lady Maude, Phyllis and the picnic hamper, trundling along behind them. ‘We can cut across this water meadow for a good gallop,’ Rodney called suddenly
, reining in his horse. ‘Anyone who doesn’t want to should follow the road. We’ll meet by that stand of oaks over there.’

  Leo looked at Tara enquiringly. ‘Do you want to gallop?’ he asked, and she saw that his eyes were alight.

  She wasn’t entirely sure that she did, the meadow was flat and empty, presenting no obstacles, but her principal trouble with horses was in stopping them and on the far side of the meadow a grove of oak trees stood ready for her horse to crash into. However if Willow did whatever Ash did and Leo was confident of stopping his horse on the far side of the meadow she should come to no harm. ‘Yes, let’s.’ she said.

  ‘Good,’ Leo said. They waited for Freddie, Susannah and the landau to pass, then Rodney led the way off the road, down into the lush pasture.

  ‘Giddy up,’ Tara said tentatively to Willow, but the mare needed no urging. As soon as Ash surged forward she broke straight into a canter and rushed after him. Ahead of her Tara saw Leo dig in his heels and his horse leapt into a fully fledged gallop. Without prompting, Willow followed suit. Tara felt the rocking rhythm of the mare’s canter change to the smooth leap of the gallop and the next thing she knew she and the horse were flying across the meadow. It was exhilarating. She knew she couldn’t stop Willow if she tried, so she just gave herself up to the sheer enjoyment of it, somehow trusting implicitly that Leo would be in complete control and would manage to bring both the horses to a halt at the edge of the grove. The wind was in her hair and she had never felt such freedom, only made possible because Leo was at her side.

  Then the edge of the meadow drew near and Leo reined in his horse. At once Tara felt Willow slow to a gentle canter which quickly became a trot and then after only a couple of steps her mare was walking at the other horse’s side. It was as she had known it would be, her horse was walking safely and sedately and due to Leo’s competence Tara had not had to attempt to assert herself over the animal at all. ‘That was wonderful!’ she exclaimed. He looked sideways at her and seemed to be laughing.