“It will pass, you know,” she said. Her face was clear and pale in the dark night, and he almost could not pull his eyes away. “The scandal. People will forget about this pamphlet in time.”
“Will they?” His frustration was useless, as useless as his empty hands at his sides that fisted and then relaxed. “How long? How long will it take them to lose interest? Long enough for my sister to forget that she was to be brought out in society next spring? Long enough for her to forgive me for involving myself in another bloody scandal so outrageous that her art tutor will no longer live in my house?”
“Your… sister?”
“Yes,” he said. “Her name is Bea. She’s eighteen years old. Her mother is dead—she has no family, no friends, no one but this bleeding female painter who now refuses to step foot in my house. Now she has nothing left but me.”
Matilda’s hand came to her throat. “I’m sorry. I’m so terribly sorry.”
He thought she meant it. He thought it was not really her fault, the pamphlet, the scandal, the gossip.
He thought, as he left the party to a swirl of curious whispers, that it was cold comfort.
Chapter 3
11 September 1821
Dear Lord Ashford,
I write first to express once more my sincere regret over the situation which you raised with me at Lord Denham’s gathering last week. Any damage to you and your family was most unconsciously done, and I am heartily sorry.
Second, I would like to make recompense. You said your sister, Bea, has lost her painting tutor. I would like to find her a new one. Despite evidence to the contrary, I am classically trained in watercolors and drawing and know many art tutors in London.
With contrition,
Lady Matilda Halifax
12 September 1821
Dear Lady Matilda,
Bea is an oil painter. There is one female oil painter in England willing to travel to my estate in Northumberland to tutor her.
Was, I should say. Therewasone female oil painter willing to live with us in Bamburgh. Now there are none.
Your contrition is unnecessary, as are your efforts.
A
12 September 1821
Dear Lord Ashford,
Oil painting! Marvelous. As it happens, after Margo and I were sent down from finishing school—please do not ask—I took a great interest in oil painting myself. I can recommend an excellent tutor for your sister. He was willing to teach a seventeen-year-old Halifax Hellion; I am certain your reputation will pose no problem. Only he is afflicted by rheumatism and not able to travel long distances—can he attend your sister at your townhouse in London?
I have ignored your final sentence, as you can plainly see. I feel in part responsible for what has befallen you and your sister. I can help you, if you will permit it.
Matilda Halifax
13 September 1821
Lady Matilda,
Beatrice will not travel to London.
If you have listened to anything in your life, listen to this: stop helping.
A
