“So he set you up as his flirt, I suppose.”
Her cheeks grew even pinker. “Well… that is one way to describe it. He cheered me up, let us say, and got me through the worst week of my life. I have never seen him since, from that day to this, but I shall always be grateful to him for his kindness to a woman who was not accustomed to such society. You can mingle with all these great people, Lance, and hold your head high. That is your place in the world, amongst the aristocracy, which is why it was such a disappointment that it all came to nothing with Lady Patience. You have borne it nobly, but it must have been a crushing blow.”
“All things considered, I believe I am better off without her.”
“You are proving my point. That is the mark of the true gentleman, to rise above every setback without a single word of reproach. But you will find another noblewoman to wed, I am sure. You have always exceeded our expectations, Lance, and will do so again, I make no doubt.”
“Naturally it is an object with me to make you proud of me,” he said gently, “but I believe it would be better to judge a woman by her character rather than her rank. And love… I should very much like to marry for love, Mother.”
“Love is all very well, if it happens,” she said crisply, “but I do not recommend waiting for it. You have already met the cream of society, and if you have not yet fallen in love, perhapsit will never happen. Well, I am for my bed. I have an early start tomorrow.”
Lance poured himself a final brandy, sipping thoughtfully.‘If you have not yet fallen in love, perhaps it will never happen.’Or perhaps it had already happened, and there was not a thing he could do about it.
With a sigh, he abandoned his brandy and went to bed. Tomorrow, he would prepare to return to Staineybank.
It was time.
***
Staineybank had not changed greatly, except that Hester Merrington’s health had begun to give cause for concern, and Charlotte was taking on more of the household duties in her stead. The duchess had still not left to set up her new establishment in Cheshire, the Merrington sisters still fluttered around like a flock of colourful birds, the future duke and duchess were still besotted with their infant daughter and the present duke smiled benignly on his expanded household.
“Good to have you back, Chamberlain, very good,” he said more than once to Lance on his first evening there. “And that valet of yours is one of the Kentish Wyatts, is he? Yet he will stay on with you? The pair of you will continue your fencing demonstrations?”
“We will, your grace. Pendleton enjoys his position as valet, and we would neither of us willingly lay down our swords. If I am to paint your ballroom ceiling, then our bouts will entertain you for many more years. However, the roof is not yet on, and what I am to do until my brushes are needed, I cannot imagine.”
“Lily has some thoughts on that subject. Where is she? Ah, there you are, my dear. Tell Chamberlain your plan to occupy him until the ceiling is ready to be painted.”
She smiled up at him, and he realised all over again why he should not have come back. This was so dangerous!
“A studio,” she said, and for a moment he was in such a spin that he could not understand her meaning.
“A studio?” he said stupidly.
“In Brinchester. There are a couple of properties available at the moment — one in Queen Anne Square, directly opposite the bank, a very good location, and another on Castle Street, although quite a way down. Several doors beyond the circulating library. You could paint your portraits there, and display them together with… whatever you have already painted that you wish the world to see.”
“I am not sure I have anything of that nature,” he said slowly.
“That is a great pity,” she said, looking him straight in the eye.
He melted inside. Impossible to deny her anything she asked of him! “Do you truly think anyone would want to see my private portrait collection?”
“I do,” she said, “and I am sure that many more people would be interested. They are as fine as any paintings I have ever seen. You could even sell them.”
“Would you like one, Duchess?” the duke said. “If these portraits are all you say, they would make a fine addition to Staineybank.”
“Her grace is too kind, but she exaggerates my abilities,” Lance said, although he could not resist smiling at her. “The portraits are not such as any gentleman would want to hang on his wall.” He hesitated, but surely he could admit to his secret now? “They are of street urchins, pie sellers and the like — the lowest of the low.”
“That sounds… unusual,” the duke said, with a slight frown. “But if the duchess wishes to see them, they will be of interest to others, no doubt. Besides, it would be a suitable place foryou to operate your portrait business, too, and then we should have your company on a permanent basis. That would please me greatly, so I hope you will give Lily’s scheme the consideration it deserves.”
It would make a diverting project, and perhaps there would be no harm in showing his more modest portraits to the world, with the patronage of the Duke of Brinshire to protect his reputation. Perhaps he would be seen merely as charmingly eccentric and not, as he had always feared, unworthy to paint the more elevated members of His Majesty’s kingdom.
Denny’s history was the subject of much discussion, and surely never before at Staineybank had a manservant been the centre of attention in the drawing room. Everyone wanted to hear his tale, and James Hammond was perhaps the most delighted by it.
“There you are, you see,” he said to Lance. “I knew there would be a black sheep in the case, and since it was not you, it could only have been Pendleton. Or should we call him Wyatt now?”
“He is content to remain as Pendleton the valet for the moment,” Lance said. “This is your theory that each of the false attorney Goodenough’s protégées has been cast out of his family for some reason, I take it?”
“It is, although in Mrs Richard’s case, it was her grandmother who defied all the conventions and bore a child outside wedlock. Lady Juliet’s mother behaved so scandalously that her husband divorced her. And now, it is Pendleton — fleeing the country after a duel! That is very decided black sheep behaviour, would you not agree?”
