“Yes, shall I have something made up especial? It would be no trouble.” Mrs. Hartley’s expression intensified, as did her grip on Walter, whose convulsions seemed to be slowing down.
Rose shook her head, her grin now strained. “No, no, it’s simple enough for me to add. If you recall, I did draperies for Mr. Jurgens. I’ll just put some sort of velvet on… hmm.” Clothing was usually nothing, though she frowned a bit, wondering how to cobble together something akin to a dog-shaped lay figure. Already this commission had grown by several new ideas. The first was regarding the background: Roman ruins, perhaps? And then today, at the end of the second sitting with Walter, Mrs. Hartley had come in with several suggestions for poses, none of which were natural for either human or canine, nor would they feature in any competent artist’s pose book. Still, Rose had done her best to maintain equanimity and not close herself off.
But not without effort.
“Oh no, it’s not a worry. In fact, I’ve heard it’s more distinguished to have one’s own clothes painted, isn’t that so? I shall visit my modiste this very day—oh, what shall we choose, hmm?” Mrs. Hartley practically sang the words as she shook Walter, so exuberant and certain was she. Then again, Rose had come to learn that Mrs. Hartley wasalwaysexuberant and certain, even as she changed tack midway through her own arguments.
A knock at the door thankfully freed Rose from having to respond with some asinine platitude.
Mr. Hartley entered the room, with Joseph right behind him.
Her heart skipped a beat.
“Miss Verdier,” Mr. Hartley acknowledged her briefly before explaining, “Mama, Fennell is in a state about the silver.” Rose noticed he kept glancing back at her even as he addressed his mother. It was strange, but she did not dare look at Joseph. Not after he’d been haunting her thoughts for weeks. Not when long-dormant desires threatened to overtake her deep-seated grudge. Following a lengthy over-explanation, Mr. Hartley finished, “If you would assist me, perhaps we can make him see sense.”
“Marcus! I have nothing to say to that… that…” Mrs. Hartley gave up on finding whatever disparagement she intended to hurl at her son’s butler and huffed. Even so, she set Walter aside and stood up. “If you’d excuse us, Mr. Palgrave, Miss Verdier.”
The pair exited the room so quickly that Rose hadn’t even a chance to excuse herself as well. The last time this exact thing had happened she’d been caught off guard. And though she’d had the previous encounter as a warning, it apparently still wasn’t enough for her to maneuver out of it this time.Hell and tarnation,she silently cursed, fidgeting with the pile of sketches in her lap.
Across the room, Walter sneezed.
When Joseph finally spoke, it was in that bored, drawling tone she knew so well.
“Mr. Hartley ought to get his household in order,” he observed, a little too knowingly.
She still had not looked at him. She didn’t care if it was rude; the only witness remaining in the room was certainly no authority on etiquette.
Rose heard snuffling noises, and she glanced up to find Joseph standing alongside the couch Mrs. Hartley had vacated, hands atop his walking stick. Walter stood on a couch cushion, stretching his neck out as far as possible so he might sniff about Joseph’s person. He stared down at the dog, enduring the inspection with disinterest.
The scene brought another one to mind, and Rose couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of their last meeting.
“What?” Joseph growled, still frustrated with her.
“Do you fancy a lapdog, Mr. Palgrave?” She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand out of habit. He watched her for a moment, then returned her mirth with a half-grin.
“I should bloody well think not. Though knowing my luck, she’ll gift me one of the wretched thing’s next litter.”
“Walter,” she said with mocking authority, “is ahe.”
“My apologies, old chap.”
They both looked to Walter, who glanced from one of them to the other and back again, his tiny body shaking all the way to the tips of his scraggly ears with excitement at their regard.
“He’s not all that bad,” Rose said, suddenly feeling a bit too exposed, sharing jokes like this when nothing had been resolved. “When you become accustomed to his… company.” She smiled nervously at Walter.
The dog seemed to sense her unease and leapt from his couch, bounding over to Rose’s lap in the space of a moment.
“Oh,” she said, feeling very awkward now. The dogs at The Bit and Bridle had been large hounds that slept in the stables with the horses.
“Doyoufancy a lapdog, Miss Verdier?” Joseph asked, echoing Mrs. Hartley’s past question to him.
Rose looked back to Joseph. She’d never imagined it would be like this, were she to ever encounter him again. But somehow they’d started in a congenial manner this time. Even as she was loath to admit it. She looked down to Walter, who panted happily, as if things couldn’t get any better for the three of them. She gave him a tentative pet.
“Eh—I’m not sure.”
They both left it at that, and retreated into their own thoughts, the air thick with what remained unsaid. Rose found herselfunwilling to meet Joseph’s eye again, choosing instead to focus on Walter as though he were the most interesting thing she had ever seen.
Finally Joseph broke the silence. “May I sit?”
