to reining it in.
‘Exactly. On a pedestal, with a landscape behind, or perhaps a castle. And both the Huntley and Trevelyan family arms. I told her I would be happy to, just so I can get her to buy me the painting supplies. I am to go to Reeves in Cheapside and buy what I need, which shall be very exciting, and also to the Royal Academy so I can get some ideas for the proper composition of a portrait. My dear Marmaduke is proving very useful, aren’t you, love?’
Marmaduke’s curly pink tongue lolled out and he directed her a look which was surprisingly adoring. Max smiled at the absurdity of it all—of the girl, the dog, the conversation and especially of his part in it.
‘So it looks like it is going to be a protracted stay. Have you ever been to the Royal Academy before?’
‘No, I have been pining to go see the Summer Exhibition, but one of the conditions of our stay has been that we not enjoy ourselves or at least not stray from Grosvenor Square. But now that I have a legitimate excuse to roam, I intend to take full advantage of it. The Royal Academy is this way, isn’t it?’
‘It is, but...do you intend to walk there? With the dog?’
‘Is it too far?’ she asked, concerned.
‘It is. He would expire before you made it halfway. And besides, you can’t take a pug into Somerset House!’ he said sternly. ‘And you also can’t go there on your own. You should at least take a maid with you.’
‘Aunt Minnie would never allow me to commandeer her maid and I can’t very well have James the footman trailing me around an art exhibition. I refuse to let this opportunity slip by simply because I don’t have a chaperon. I would never forgive myself. Besides, what on earth could happen to me there?’
‘That is not the point. Young women...well-born young women...do not wander around town unaccompanied.’
‘Oh, please don’t make me feel any guiltier than I already do. It is not as if I am known in London, so there is no reason anyone would ever know or even notice me. I simply can’t not go.’
Max told himself to take a firm step back. This was none of his business. And she had a point—no one knew her in London. But the thought of her wandering alone and unprotected through an unfamiliar city...
‘Take that misbegotten canine for his walk and then meet me in the garden in an hour. I will take you there,’ he said abruptly.
Her eyes widened in surprise, subjecting him to the full pressure of her sea-blue gaze. She was almost too expressive. He could see surprise and wariness and wistfulness in their multi-hued depths and he hoped no one would find out he was actually choosing to play chaperon for this peculiar girl.
‘That is kind of you, but it is really not necessary for you to put yourself out on my account,’ she said properly and some of his tension faded, giving way to amusement at what was clearly an uncharacteristic show of propriety on her part.
‘You sound like you are impersonating someone,’ he replied and her warm tumbling laugh, like the sound of water in a brook, evoked the same surge of proprietary heat as when he had accidentally touched her hand the previous day in the garden. It was short but sharp, unmistakable. Not that there was anything particular about her that merited this unwanted tug of desire. She was mildly pretty but unexceptional aside from her eyes which reminded him of the colours of the sea at summer off the coast near Harcourt. It was something that went beyond her looks, a vividness that was magnetic—an unconscious invitation to enjoy life.
‘Oh, dear, I was. My Aunt Seraphina, Arthur’s mother. She’s dreadful. I wasn’t at all believable, was I? But I do mean you needn’t go with me. I shall be perfectly fine on my own, really.’
‘Probably. We shall compromise then. I shall just make sure you get in safely and then leave you to explore while I continue on to the City. I have a meeting there later. And then you can take a hackney directly back home afterwards.’
He swung on to his horse before she could argue.
‘I will see you in an hour,’ he repeated and rode off, wondering if she would be there or whether even she would back down before such unconventional behaviour.
* * *
Somehow, when he entered the garden an hour later he was not very surprised to see her standing just inside the gates. For once she was not wearing a simple countrified white-muslin dress and spencer, but a walking dress of a pale smoky blue under a darker blue pelisse. And though the style was perhaps a few years out of fashion, it was well tailored and for the first time he could see she had a very appealing and well-proportioned figure. She also looked more her age and dignified, but contrarily that just made it clearer he should not be doing this, no matter how chivalrous his motives. Then he met her eyes which were sparkling with suppressed excitement and he relented. It was such an inconsequential thing for him and such a great deal for her, there surely was nothing very wrong in merely seeing her safely into the Academy.
‘Come,’ he said, holding out his arm and she moved towards him with her peculiar brand of pent-up energy, following him out to the street where he hailed a passing hackney cab.
She gave a breathy laugh as she settled on to the seat.
‘I feel like I am escaping from the Bastille! This is quite ridiculous. I have been here less than two weeks and already I am losing perspective on reality.’
Max smiled. He should have known she would treat this with her usual irrepressible enthusiasm. He settled back and waited for her next outrageous comment. It was not long in coming.
‘Thank you for offering to take me there. It makes it seem so much more...commonplace.’
‘That sounds disappointing. Should I apologise for taking the adventure out of it?’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean it like that... Just that I am trying to convince myself that it needn’t be such a to do. That it is quite normal for me to go to see some of the most amazing painters alive in England today. Part of me doesn’t want to go.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, I am bound to discover that an unbridgeable chasm lies between my puny talent and real artistic skill. I am quite prepared to suffer some mortification before I can free myself from vanity and enjoy real genius.’
‘That is very...broad-minded of you,’ Max replied after a moment’s struggle not to laugh, reminding himself this was a serious issue for her, after all.
‘Are you laughing at me?’ she asked, her gaze both questioning and accusing.
‘Is that terrible?’
Her eyes slanted again in the amusement that never seemed far from the surface.
‘I did sound terribly pompous, didn’t I? But I mean it. Back in Ashton Cove I was always by far the best artist, not that anyone really cares about that over there unless they need me for the church decorations. But I know today I will see real talent. There are so very, very few and some of them will have their paintings on those walls. And I will know, for certain, that I am not and never will be of that calibre. I know that I am going to feel something in me die today and even though it will hurt, I wouldn’t avoid it even if I could, because the other side of that coin is the experience of witnessing genius. It’s still pompous, but I can’t help it—that is what I feel.
