His eyes shone with a depth and vulnerability that was new. Hannah felt curious that this man could keep demonstrating something unexpected.
‘Do you notice,’ Caleb drew her attention back to the page ‘how the cosy lighting of the library contrasts the cold light from the window? And if you look closely – you can see delicate flakes of snow falling outside the stained-glass window…’
Hannah leaned further in to ascertain if this was correct.
‘I say! There really are!’ she exclaimed.
‘Doesn’t the suggestion of cold outside further heighten our joy at the intimacy of the warm library?’
Enriched by the soothing tone of his deep, content voice, Hannah allowed herself to slightly lean back toward him. Their shoulders touched and the contact sent an invigorating shiver down her spine.
Hannah turned to smile up at Caleb. ‘It does,’ she paused, looking up into his face as she collected her own thoughts on the art piece. ‘I believe the artist-’
But at that moment, the tranquillity was broken as the library door creaked open, revealing Anne standing in the doorway.
Hannah and Caleb sprung apart and the large book nearly fell from Hannah’s hands. Caleb reacted quickly and his instincts saved it from falling. As Hannah exhaled in relief, their eyes met in a moment of understanding.
Anne’s eyes twitched between the two of them, suspiciously.
‘Caleb. A word, please,’ his mother requested, though they both knew a request from Anne was a demand and no mistake.
Caleb looked at Hannah apologetically and she meekly nodded, accepting she would need to leave. She held the book tight against her chest and left the room with her head bent low as she passed her mother-in-law.
Caleb sighed with frustration as Hannah exited and his mother stepped into the space, closing the door behind her.
Anne’s slow footsteps were intrusively loud as she walked toward her son.
‘I do not like what she has done to the parlour room,’ Anne declared.
‘She? Are you referring to one of the maids?’ Caleb knew exactly to whom she was referring but did not like her tone.
Caleb thought it preferential to hear his mother’s whole side of the story and take him back to basics so that he could judge from an informed perspective.
‘Hannah. The parlour room you apparently granted her full access and permission to do withwhatever she wished.’
‘And has she?’ Caleb asked jauntily.
‘You know she has!’ Anne shrieked at him.
‘On the contrary, I have not visited the parlour room since the day I gifted it to her. It is her private space and I have no authority to meddle. Tell me, if you have taken the liberty to visit, how is she utilising the space?’
‘She has converted the parlour into anArt Studio!’ Anne spat the last couple of words, with disgust.
‘How interesting,’ Caleb nodded fondly.
‘It is unsightly and unseemly of a Duchess to bepainting’ Anne declared.
‘What would you have her do with the room?’ Caleb asked, quite genuinely.
‘She should sit in there to read and when she vacates the room, it is considerately available for other members of the household to use. I should like to be able to host friends and visitors in that room.’
‘But Mother, you never have.’
Anne looked at him in shock ‘But of course I have!’
‘I considered all four parlour rooms and am aware that you often take tea in two of them and in the other you read and sew. You have never frequented the parlour room on the ground floor back corridor, which is why I selected this one for Hannah’s exclusive use. If she chose to turn it into a stable area and breed chickens in there, I should be happy that she had found an activity to please her and occupy her time.’
‘That’s preposterous!’
