Two of a Kind

by Sasha Cottman

  Meanwhile, Caroline began to rummage in her reticule. It was another unspoken signal from her. It told him to leave things well alone. He took his cue and let the matter rest. As soon as he got an opportune moment to speak to Caroline alone, he would raise the matter again.

  Once they reached Burton-on-Trent, James’s thoughts moved to the question of finding his friends. The town was bigger and more crowded than he had expected. Not long after they’d arrived in the main street, they were forced to alight from the carriage. Walking the short distance into the town square, they were greeted with the sight of row upon row of market stalls, all selling local produce.

  “I didn’t realize it would be this big,” James said, taking in the view. He chanced a glance at Caroline, but she was looking elsewhere. He noticed a subtle change in her black mood. She had gone from being quiet and distracted, to being on edge.

  Julian pointed toward a small double-story public house which stood on the corner of the square. A sign was hanging above the doorway of the whitewashed building. The Union Inn.

  He turned back to Julian who, after looking briefly in Caroline’s direction, nodded toward the tavern. His message was clear; Caroline would be safe with him and Lady Margaret. James hesitated, torn between his need to support his cousin and the burning desire to seize his future.

  He took hold of Caroline’s arm and she looked up at him. The sadness in her eyes was heartbreaking.

  “There is The Union Inn. Are you still alright for me to go and see my friends?” he said.

  Caroline muttered a low, “Yes. You need to do this, James.”

  “Caroline will be fine with Lady Margaret and myself. There is plenty to see and do here at the market,” said Julian.

  “Thank you. I shan’t be long,” said James. With more haste than he knew was polite, he made a hurried dash across the square.

  He would gauge Caroline’s mood once he returned, and if she was still amenable to his spending a day or so with his friends in the wilds of Derbyshire, he would leave Burton with the two Tims rather than return to Newhall Castle. In the meantime, he could only hope that Julian was able to work his magic and bring Caroline out of her funk. But as soon as he opened the door of the inn and saw his friends waiting for him, all doubt fled.

  By day’s end, he would be somewhere in the Marchington Woodlands.

  Chapter Nineteen

  James hadn’t counted on the bitter, biting wind which greeted him upon arrival in the Marchington Woodlands. The tiny stone cottage which his friends occupied had an even smaller fireplace than the one in their attic in London. It didn’t take him long to understand why neither of his friends removed their coats even when they were inside.

  “I thought all those Christmases and New Year’s at Strathmore Castle in Scotland would have hardened me up for this, but I must confess—I am absolutely freezing,” he said.

  Smith chuckled. “I take it Newhall and his drafty castle don’t seem as bad as you thought now?”

  “No. Actually it has been a good stay. Newhall, it turns out, is quite a decent chap. His home is warm and inviting. I shall be loath to leave when the time comes,” he replied.

  Walters frowned. There had been an awkward meeting between the two parties in the middle of the market at Burton. Upon seeing Caroline, Timothy Walters had pushed Julian aside before gushing and fawning over Caroline. She had not seemed the least bit happy to see Walters. James had felt embarrassed for both his cousin and his friend.

  “How long is Caroline staying at Newhall Castle? Perhaps we could all travel over to visit. We didn’t get much of an opportunity to spend time with her today,” said Walters.

  Out of the corner of his eye, James caught the slight shake of Smith’s head and a silently mouthed “no.” He gave a touch of a nod in reply.

  “Lord Newhall may not take kindly to unannounced visitors. Radley, how about you and I go and get some more wood for the fire? I think tonight is going to be a cold one,” said Smith.

  As soon as the two of them were outside, Smith took hold of James’s arm and pulled him close. He looked back to the door of the cottage, but their mutual friend remained inside.

  “You need to keep him away from your cousin. He has it set in his mind to marry her. He ignored her wishes and went to see her father. Charles Saunders rightly refused him, but Walters did not take it well. She is all he ever talks about. And from the look on Newhall’s face today, I was left with the distinct impression that Caroline is about to become the next Countess Newhall,” said Smith.

  The pieces of the puzzle now fell into place for James. Little wonder Francis had backed out of getting the Prince Regent to buy any of the two Tims’ paintings. If Timothy Walters was an unwelcome suitor for his sister, Francis was not going to want to have anything to do with them.

  What was it with some men? Here was yet another stubborn male who had decided that what he wanted carried more weight than the stated wishes of a young woman. First Guy, then Harry, now Timothy.

  At least Caroline had the support of her family when it came to suitors. Unlike Leah, she would not be pressured into marrying a man she did not love.

  “Thank you. It explains a lot, replied James.

  Smith bent and picked up a log, then piled several more into his arms. James followed suit. It would look odd if they returned to the cottage empty-handed.

  When they were inside, he didn’t say anything to Walters about what Smith had revealed regarding Caroline, and he was careful not to make mention of her again. A headache threatened just at the prospect of yet another male trying to force his marital intentions on a young woman against her wishes.

  His thoughts turned to Leah. He quickly chided himself for his selfishness. An awkward conversion with Smith and a headache was nothing compared to what she was facing.

  He grabbed his sketchbook and headed back outside, hopeful that the cold, clear air would be a balm for his worried mind.

  After an earlier walk through the woods and down to the nearby river, James had decided that he would attempt to create two distinct, but thematically linked landscape paintings. The trees which overhung the water provided the perfect backdrop for his first landscape, while the woodland canopy behind the cottage would give him the framework, he needed for the second.

  The Derbyshire Twins, as he’d named them, would form the main pieces in his portfolio. Two large paintings designed to be hung in the same space, thus, giving the illusion of the viewer standing within the woodlands themselves. He had never attempted to paint anything on this scale before, but he knew preliminary sketches were vital.

  After taking a seat by the edge of the water, he began to create his own version of the landscape which he saw before him. His sketches would not be exact replicas of the place. He would use them as the inspiration for his creations. Once he had the composition clear, he would then stand before an easel and seek to put the light and balance he saw in his mind’s eye onto canvas.

  It was late by the time he finally closed his sketchbook. In the fading light of the afternoon, he returned through the woods to the cottage. In the book were pages of partially drawn trees and the swirling waters of the river. They were rough impressions; only half complete. But in his heart, James knew he now had what it would take to make those sketches come alive.

  James slept on a short, narrow bed for the night. The two Tims had been left to share the other bed, which from the grumbles he heard, was not the most comfortable of arrangements.

  Not wishing to overstay his welcome, he rose as soon as the sun was up and stoked the fire. He had slept fully clothed, the cottage being little more than four thin walls against the might of the winter winds.

  Today he would continue to work on more of the sketches from the previous day. He opened his sketchbook and checked his drawings, nodding his pleasure at how well things were progressing.

  Walters wandered out from the bedroom, his hair, and clothes in post-sleep disarray. He came and stood next to James watc
hing as he turned the pages of the sketchbook. When James got to the work which he had started the previous afternoon, he stopped.

  “What do you think of these? I am planning to paint two large landscapes,” said James.

  “I like what you have done so far. There is a nice symmetry about the rough outlines. I can just imagine what the two of them would look like hanging side by side as completed paintings. Though you may need more time to fully develop the pieces,” he said, tapping his finger on the page.

  James considered the sketches. Walters was right. They were a long way from being finished. With Guy and Leah’s wedding taking place soon, he wouldn’t have time to finish them before he had to return to London.

  Perhaps a return trip to Derbyshire was in order. Being away from London was not such a bad thing. While he thought constantly about Leah, he knew there was nothing he could do about the impending wedding. At least through his art, he could do something to mold his future into one that was his own. If he was able to focus his time and energy into bringing the Derbyshire Twins to life, he might be able to make himself enough of a name to carve out his own place in the world of English painters.

  Still, a small voice of doubt whispered in his mind. Was he good enough?

  “Do you really think I could do this? I mean, make a career out of my painting. I am just not sure if I have enough talent to succeed. Please be honest with me. Am I good or am I deluding myself?” replied James.

  Walters raked his fingers through his tussled hair. “James, you have more talent in your little finger than I do in the whole of my body. You need to get these sketches finished, and then get painting. You live in a bloody palace so you should be able to find a room which you can commandeer for your work.”

  Fulham Palace had plenty of rooms in which James could paint. And if his father did not allow it, then he could rent rooms in town. The money he earned from working at his uncle’s shipping office would be enough to keep the proverbial wolf from the door while he established his career. He could do this, but he would need his father’s approval. He also wanted Hugh’s support.

  “So, what you are saying is that I need to stop dithering and go and paint?”

  Smith appeared from the door of the bedroom and wandered over to stand alongside them. He looked down at the sketches and nodded. “Have we managed to convince you yet? If not, I don’t know what else we can do. James you could be one of the greats of English landscape painting. You just have to stop listening to your father and start listening to yourself,” he said.

  A grin which felt a mile wide formed on James’s lips. His heart swelled at the thought of what he could accomplish. He then made a decision. He would spend today putting the finishing touches to the preliminary sketches, then head back to Newhall Castle and tell Caroline that they were leaving for London.

  “Yes, you are right. I’ve ignored my own instincts for too long. I have to tell my father that I will not be following him into the church. This is my life, and I am going to be a painter.”

  His friends slapped him vigorously on the back.

  “About bloody time, James,” said Smith.

  Chapter Twenty

  A matter of days later, James found himself standing on the seashore at Brighton having just witnessed Julian and Caroline’s wedding. After sharing a celebratory glass of champagne, the madly-in-love newlyweds had abandoned the rest of the small wedding party and gone back across the road to their hotel. Francis had polished off most of a bottle of his father’s best champagne and was snoozing on the beach.

  James had rolled up his trousers and was now seated next to his father on the soft sand. He had spent the best part of the last hour staring out to sea, trying to think of the right words.

  On the journey home from Derbyshire, he had composed a suitably compelling speech to present to his father. He had a list of good reasons why he did not intend to go back to university, nor to follow Hugh into the Church of England. But as he looked across at his father, he knew he didn’t need a grand speech.

  “I made a decision while I was in Derbyshire. I want to pursue a full-time career as a painter. I know if it came down to it, that the final choice would be mine, but it would mean the world to me if you would give me your blessing.”

  James watched as Hugh’s shoulders slumped. He knew he had disappointed his father, finally putting an end to his long-held dream of his son following him into the church, but James was at peace with his decision.

  Hugh looked up at him. A soft smile sat on his lips as he nodded. “You have my blessing, but it does come with a proviso. Your mother and I will support you financially for the next six months. But if you have not succeeded in selling a single painting by the end of March, and I don’t mean to family and friends, then you agree to go back to Cambridge next autumn and complete your degree. After that, we can discuss other career options outside of the church.”

  James considered the offer for a moment. If his father supported him financially for the next six months, he would have time to complete not only the two large Derbyshire Twins, but also a number of smaller works. Having money would mean he did not need to work for Charles Saunders during the day. He could invest all his time and energy into his painting. It was a tempting offer. Very tempting.

  He decided to push his luck. “Would that offer also extend to me being able to go back to Derbyshire to work for some of that time? It would help me to complete my current pieces.”

  His early sketches were a long way to being finished. And there was something about being able to absorb the light and color of the landscape which he knew he would not be able to do if he tried to complete the major paintings while based in London.

  “Yes, alright, I understand. The Lord says that a good shepherd is one who gets out among his flock. I expect a painter needs to see the landscape if he is going to paint,” replied Hugh.

  James blinked back tears. “Thank you. I really appreciate your support. I know this is not what you had in mind for me, but I need to at least try and make this work. If I fail, I promise it won’t be through lack of effort.”

  Hugh placed a hand on his shoulder. “I have never doubted your work ethic, James. I had just hoped that someday you and I would be able to work alongside one another. I realize now that perhaps I need to let the Lord do his work and not stand in your way.”

  “I am sorry that I have not been able to find the same passion for the church that you have, but I hope that through my painting I can show the beauty of God’s creation. You have a gift for reaching people through your sermons, while I believe I can speak to them with art. And I hope that is enough for you,” James said earnestly.

  “Whatever you do will be enough for your mother and me. We are always proud of you. Now, be a good lad and go and retrieve that bottle of champagne from Francis. You and I have something to celebrate.”

  James collected the half-empty bottle from beside his sleeping cousin. He handed it to his father. He knew he should be overjoyed at being given the opportunity to pursue his life’s passion, but as he watched Hugh drink from the bottle, James felt a sense of emptiness inside.

  Leah and Guy’s wedding was a matter of five days away. While he had been granted the chance to change his own future, the woman he loved was still fated to marry the wrong man.

  Knowing the miserable future which lay ahead for Leah, James’s victory suddenly felt bitter and hollow.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  James raced downstairs from his room at Fulham Palace. He had a long list of errands to complete this morning. Guy and Leah’s wedding was only a day away, and as best man. he had a celebratory party to organize for this evening. Out of respect for the bride, he had decided that while it would be a drunken mess of a stag party; it would not be the debauched orgy that Guy had requested.

  Stepping out into the main courtyard of the palace, he saw a carriage drawn up to one side. Visitors were always coming and going from Fulham Palace, so James didn’t pay it much notic
e at first. But when he saw the face of the young woman who alighted from the carriage, all thoughts of his plans for the day vanished.

  It was Leah.

  He swayed on his feet. If he had thought that a little time and distance would cool his ardor for her, his heart swiftly told him otherwise.

  Her head lifted and their gazes met. Despair punched him hard in the chest. He took a faltering step back. Instead of the loving smile that she had always gifted him in his lustful dreams of her, the real Leah gave him barely a scant nod.

  He hurried over, hoping to catch at least a moment alone with her before Claire appeared from the family residence.

  He bowed. “Miss Shepherd, how lovely to see you again.”

  At this close distance, he got a better look at Leah, and what he saw filled him with dismay.

  In the time since he had last seen her, she had lost a considerable amount of weight. Her cheeks were slightly sunken. The delightful curves which had set his teeth on edge at the garden party were now almost gone. She barely made an impression on the bustline of her gown. Just how much weight she had lost since the betrothal party he feared to guess. Leah was only a pound or so away from becoming a wraith.

  “Mister Radley. I see you are returned from Derbyshire,” she replied.

  The sadness in her eyes nearly brought him undone. His heart protested. This would not do; he couldn’t just stand there and make polite conversation with Leah, knowing that it might well be the last chance he got to speak to her before the wedding.

  “Yes, I returned a few days ago. I am sorry I have not seen you since then.” He stood for a moment, struggling to find the right words to say. This encounter was so confronting, so bloody awful. When she went to step past him, James reached out and took a hold of Leah’s arm. “Whatever I can do for you in the future, you only have to ask.”