Sophie swallowed and walked toward the door, hoping her swaying skirts blocked the woman’s view of the crate. “Your son is really quite talented, but I shouldn’t have intruded. I suppose he would not like... anyone... looking at his work without him?”
“Quite right. This room is off limits.”
“To the housemaids, or to family as well?” Sophie didn’t like having to remind the woman she was a relative now, but neither did she like being lumped in with the staff.
Mrs. Overtree glanced around the studio once more, then backed from the doorway. “Well, I don’t think he likes anyone in here. He’s very particular.” She held the door open. “After you.”
Sophie complied and forced a smile, hoping to chase away the suspicion lingering in the woman’s eyes.
chapter 15
Early the next morning, Captain Overtree knocked on the dressing room door while Sophie was still in her nightclothes.
“Just a minute!” she called. She slipped her dressing gown around her, then went to the door.
When she opened it, she saw he was already dressed in her favorite of his coats. A dark Spanish blue that brought out the color of his eyes.
He asked, “What would you say to an outing today, just you and me?”
“An outing?”
“Yes, a little respite from watchful eyes, family obligations, and... playacting.” A corner of his mouth quirked.
“Sounds lovely.”
“Good. Dress in something fine. We’ll go in the landau—it’s a beautiful day.” He turned back with a little smirk. “Bring that parasol you are so fond of.”
“Another picnic?” she asked.
“No. Something more... refined. No need to remove half boots and no rock climbing. I promise.”
“Very well.”
When Libby entered, Sophie explained the day’s plan. She chose a blue carriage dress, buff leather slippers with blue tassels, and a bonnet trimmed in lace and a tinted silk hydrangea.
“You look beautiful, madam,” Libby said, fussing with the curls peeking out from beneath the brim.
“Thank you, Libby.”
An “outing for just the two of them” was not exactly accurate, for a coachman took the reins and a groom rode on the rear of the landau.
They started off in the same direction they had taken for the picnic but continued straight for several miles once they crossed the stone bridge. The air smelled faintly of hyacinths and new grass, and birds flitted among the hedgerows. The sky above reminded her of one of her favorite pigments: a light wash of Prussian blue, and the wispy clouds like lace in shades of grey-toned lead white.
“Where are we going?” she asked, not really caring.
“We are going to Langton. Famous for its art collection. Have you heard of it?”
Her heart gave a little leap. “Yes! Is the estate nearby?”
“Not far. I am some acquainted with Lord Thorp. I wrote to him and he has graciously offered us a private tour of his collection.”
She stared at him, afraid to believe it. “You are teasing me.”
“I am not. What—are you telling me you’ve already seen it?”
“Heavens no! And I can think of very few things I would enjoy more.”
He smiled. “Then I am glad I went to the trouble.”
