“I have been awake at sunrise, but it was to do chores around the school and prepare breakfast. I did not have the luxury of walking in the countryside at dawn or dusk. I would, however, love to see one in the way that you described. It sounds wonderful.”
Lord Dunstan looked stunned for a moment. It dawned on her that she had not censored her words and given him a very bleak picture of her time at school. Well, she could not take it back now, and it was a part of her upbringing. If they were to marry, he would come to know about it, eventually.
“Well,” he said. “Shall we look at the painting?”
There was an excitement in his tone that made her excited, too.
“It is not quite complete. I have the background to finish, but I thought you might like a preview of it. Oh, and let me give these back to you. You must have been most anxious without them.”
She took the miniatures and quickly put them in her reticule. “Yes. I would like that very much.”
He brought the painting over and placed it on a nearby easel. He turned it around, and Lucinda was sure her mouth fell open. He had put her mother seated on a chair with her father behind her with his hand on her shoulder and her reaching up to touch his hand. A classic pose. They looked exactly like her miniatures. He had captured them perfectly.
“Oh, Lord Dunstan. You have brought my parents together as I never could have imagined.” She could not stop looking at them. “They look so in love, just how I imagined them to be.”
“I am very glad you approve. I took some liberties with their clothing but the rest I have tried to keep as close to the originals as possible.”
Marianne moved forward to take a closer look putting her arm around Lucinda for support. “You are truly talented, my lord.”
“I thank you.” He bowed. “When I saw the pictures of your parents, Miss Sterling, I just knew I had to paint them.”
Lucinda nodded. This is how they should have always been. Together. “How long until it will be finished?”
“A few days. I will have it framed and sent directly to you.”
Still marveling at how lifelike her parents looked, she said, “You must allow me to pay for your service, my lord.”
“Nonsense. I requested the duty. It has been an honor and a privilege, I assure you.” He guided her away from her parents and over to the wall of paintings. “Now, which shall I hang in my study?”
“May I have a few minutes to choose?”
“At your leisure. Lady Ashton, would you like to see some of my sketches?”
“I would, indeed, my lord.”
And so Lucinda studied the wall of art on her own. It was hard for her to concentrate on them when she wanted to go back to her parents. He must have feelings for her to do something ofthis scale for her. Something he knew would mean a lot to her. Could she marry him and pretend to love him when her heart belonged to Tony? Was it fair to Lord Dunstan to do so? Could she lay with him as his wife, knowing she would be imagining another man?
Guilt ate at her insides like poison. What kind of person would do such a thing? Was she such a person? Tears burned behind her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away. She looked up and saw a picture of a dog. It looked bright eyed and smiling in that doggish way that Marianne’s dog Sasha often did when she knew she was going for a walk. Yes, this was the one she would pick.
“I have made a decision,” she announced.
The two made their way to her side.
“That one. The dog.”
“Excellent choice. That was my first dog, Bones.”
“Bones?”
“Yes. He loved bones and would carry them around. We would find them everywhere. Behind a sofa or buried in with the carrots. He did make Cook mad at times, but she was the one who gave them to him in the first place.”
Marianne laughed and Lucinda tried to, but the thought of lying to this man who had done such a beautiful thing for her was making her ill.
“She would chase him around the home garden with a broom. If that was meant to scare him off, it did not work. He would come right back. I think he thought it was a rather fun game.”
Lucinda sat and waited, studying her parents, while Marianne indulged herself looking at each framed picture on the wall.
Thankfully, it was soon time to leave with her parents’ miniatures in her reticule.
