“But have you really tried?” He smiled again. “It is not for everyone, but with practice, most people can paint something that looks like it could hang on a wall. Perhaps I could teach you?”
“I doubt there will be time, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Diard.” Her locket slipped from her bodice as she bent to pat Romulus.
“May I see that, Miss Brown? It looks a lovely piece.”
His words had a sharpness to them, so she looked up. But Mr. Diard was still smiling, and Dimity thought she must have imagined it. She held the locket up for his inspection.
“It is lovely. I have not seen its like before.”
“It was my mother’s,” Dimity said, tucking it back into her bodice.
“Your words tell me she has passed,” Mr. Diard said.
“She has, but I did not know her, as it was when I was a babe.”
“Still, it is very painful to lose a parent.”
“I’m not sure you can mourn for someone you did not know.”
“You can mourn for what you did not have, perhaps?”
“Yes, I think you are right.” She did mourn what she had not experienced. What others had. A mother’s hand on her cheek or sweet-smelling hug. Abby had often shared what she’d learned from her mother in the brief time they’d had together, and Dimity had felt the pang of what she’d lost.
“But other memories give us warmth,” Mr. Diard said.
“They do,” Dimity agreed thinking of her father.
They walked down the path, chatting, with the dogs sniffing a myriad of different scents.
Mr. Diard asked questions, as did she, and soon she felt like they were on their way to becoming comfortable with each other. Which would help the sittings, Dimity was sure, as the duchess would not be easy to work with.
“Has London always been your home, Miss Brown?”
“Yes, I have always lived here.”
“I do enjoy my time here, but France will always be my home now.” His fingers patted her arm where it rested on his sleeve.
“I have often longed to visit France.”
“Perhaps one day you shall, and I will be your guide. There are many wonderful sights to see. But now I must take my leave of you, Miss Brown. Thank you for your company and this wonderful interlude.” He bowed. “I shall see you soon, as I am to start work on the portrait any day. I hope we can walk out again together and enjoy the fine London weather?”
“I shall look forward to that, Mr. Diard.”
He was a nice man she thought watching him walk away. Her lapse in concentration proved calamitous. Walter tugged hard on his leash when a bird flew out of the trees, and broke free.
“Botheration!”
The dog galloped down the path, and to her horror jumped the gate at the end. He then disappeared across the street. Dimity scooped up Romulus and ran after him.
She was soon dodging people, carriages, and horses.
“Have you seen a large dog?” she asked a man pushing a cart laden with bread.
“That way.” He pointed right. “He stole a loaf, and I’ll expect payment!”
“I will return with your money!” She waved a hand and hurried on.
“I’ll be having strong words with you, Walter,” Dimity rasped as her lungs started to heave.
