She wanted to laugh at that thought. It was his handsomeness that had her avoiding him most of the season. “No, it’s not that.” She hiccupped again. “I know him well. He’s kind and funny and caring and…he understands me.”
At that, Joanna looked askance at her. “I find that difficult to believe. Does he know that when you feel there is a problem with your art, it’s like the world is coming to an end?”
She nodded.
“Does he know you’ll do anything for your art?”
She smirked. “He does.”
Joanna thought for a moment. “Does he know that you wish to complete a masterpiece before marrying?”
Her heart squeezed, her throat closing. She nodded.
“Ames, does he know you underrate yourself in all things?”
Surprised that her sister would come to that conclusion, she widened her eyes. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you do. You don’t accept how talented you are or how kind you are or even how proper you are.” Joanna grinned. “You must admit you are far more proper than I.”
That was true and she wouldn’t deny it, but it was also one of her favorite traits about Joanna. “But being able to paint is not nearly as important as being intelligent or being able to run a household.”
“Is that what you think?” The shock on her sister’s face surprised her, and she looked to her brother-in-law to see if he agreed. James sat there shaking his head as if she were ridiculously naïve.
Stubbornly, she sat back. “Yes, and I know it to be true.”
Joanna looked at her husband then back at her. “Francis Bacon said the job of the artist is always to deepen the mystery. Only someone like you can do that.”
James nodded in agreement. “And Aristotle said, the aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance. That is a significant contribution to humanity.”
At their words, only four of her paintings came to mind, the three she’d done of Andrew and the miniature of Belinda. In those she could see what they meant, that there was something revealed about them when she painted.
“And William Blake says, art can never exist without naked beauty displayed. I believe—”
“Stop.” Joanna’s quote made her far too uncomfortable. “This does not negate the fact that I have ruined any chance of happiness with Lord Sommerset.” Even saying his formal name caused her pain, as that was not what he was to her, but would be for the rest of her life. How could she have not realized, and worse why did she have to understand now, when three women, maybe more would gladly marry him? The thought started new tears.
James handed her a handkerchief and she stem the flow, but she had no hope.
“Well, we’ll just have to figure something out, right James?”
At Joanna’s question, the duke shifted in his seat. “Of course. What did you have in mind?”
Joanna looked to her, but she couldn’t imagine Andrew wanting her, especially now that he said he loved her and she had turned him away. Now that she was aware how much she loved him, his rejection of her would destroy her.
For the first time, she finally understood what Mariel meant. “Mariel is right. Without love, nothing matters.” Her heart ached for her sister.
“Yes, I didn’t fully comprehend Mariel’s feelings about Marcus until I lost James.” Joanna reached across the coach and took her husband’s hand almost as if she needed reassurance that she had truly had him.
“I don’t know what to do. Even if he had been home, I doubt that he would see me. I don’t think his mother would have allowed me in if you hadn’t been there.”
“I believe you are correct.” Joanna squeezed her husband’s hand and let go. “That means we have to find a way for you two to talk.”
She looked at her sister, hope trying to get free, but her mind not letting it. “Even if I get to talk to him, he may not forgive me. He told me he loved me and I…I didn’t believe him.” She clasped her hands together hard, the pain of self-recrimination almost too much to bear. But she deserved it.
“I don’t know what you can do, but I do know that I’m not traveling back to Bedford today.” James gave his characteristic half-nod. “I’ve been cooped up in this coach far too long, and we passed a perfectly quaint inn as we drove through the village on our trek out here. My first suggestion, or should I say edict, is that we spend the night there.”
Joanna pounced. “I think that a lovely idea. It will give us time to ponder a solution. We obviously cannot visit Lyonsmere Hall again. Not with all the local ladies calling. We need to lure him out.”
James raised his brows. “We aren’t hunting a fox.”
