Sophia entered the room, her face etched with concern. Hannah hadn’t eaten the previous night and had to be coaxed to drink even a coffee that morning. Sophia could see how Hannah had been so shaken by the events of yesterday and willed some words of reassurance or inspiration to emerge but she could find no helpful consolation.
Sophia kneeled beside Hannah, taking her hand, which was cold and frail. Sophia’s hand felt warm in contrast and the shock of it broke something within Hannah and the tears she had been holding in since they had arrived at Sophia’s house yesterday evening were released. Sophia held her friend and allowed her to cry as long as she needed to, with the odd interruption of ‘You should eat something’, ‘You’re so cold…’ ‘It will get better than this…’ and although Hannah appreciated Sophia’s efforts, the words could not come anywhere close to healing her hurt.
***
Caleb’s carriage rattled through the town – he had requested the journey to be as prompt as possible, so he was thrown around a little more in the back than he would usually be, but hardly noticed, for his mind was fraught with a muddle of emotions.
He was in love with Hannah. This much was now clear to him. But the revelation was not without its challenges. To defend Hannah, he would be fighting against the societal norms that he usually embraced and abided by. His mother would be his enemy and he would need to regain the respect of the Ton, having featured so heavily in the scandal sheets. But she was worth it.
As the carriage pulled up outside Lady Camden’s town-house, Caleb took a deep breath, steeling himself for the potential showdown ahead. With gusto, he pushed forward and stood at the front door, poised to life the knocker. Then he stopped. The doubts began to creep in. There was a strong possibility Hannah would refuse to see him – he allowed a moment to consider the humiliation of having to return to his coach having not been granted access to the house. That alone would make the scandal sheets if anyone saw. He worried that perhaps he was too late; he’d made his disgust abundantly clear by marching out of Lady Wentworth’s exhibition yesterday and since then, he could understand if Hannah had already planned her life out without him featuring in it. Certainly she could succeed as a renowned artist and had no need for him. He stood at the door feeling unable to knock but equally unable to turn and leave. His indecision saw him standing at the door passively, which was an unfamiliar stance for the usually assertive Duke of Montwood.
***
Releasing Hannah from her embrace, Sophia stood from the floor where she had kneeled and Hannah returned her attention to the window. She sighed heavily, leaning forward to look at the street below.
‘Caleb!’ Hannah suddenly exclaimed ‘It’s Caleb! He’s at the door!’ She turned to Sophia as if asking how to proceed.
Sophia assessed her best friend’s face – she seemed distraught to see her husband there, but her eyes glittered with hope and it was clear to Sophia that Hannah would not be so extremely upset over the events at the exhibition, were she not in love with the Duke. It hurt Sophia to see the conflicted emotions on Hannah’s face and so she gently offered;
‘Shall I ask the Butler to send him away?’
Hannah turned from Sophia to look back at the doorstep, where Caleb stood, strangely motionless. She nibbled at a finger as she considered which of the warring emotions would win – her stubborn, obstinate, righteous principles or the overwhelming longing she felt to be close to him.
***
The Butler opened the door to see the Duke of Montwood standing on the top step, looking ashen and a little panicked.
‘Good day,’ Caleb hurried his words out before he could change his mind ‘I believe Her Grace, Hannah, the Duchess of Montwood is staying here as a guest of Lady Camden’s,’ he spoke in a low, urgent voice. ‘Please may I speak with her?’
The Butler drew breath to speak but was interrupted by a commotion on the stairs and he turned to look as Hannah arrived in a hurry of rustling skirts to stand at the balcony above the stairs.
Caleb’s breath caught as he saw her there – her eyes red-rimmed and her face pale, but still so beautiful and so warmly familiar to him now that it felt like being reunited with a part of him that had been missing.
Hannah had run to the stairs to ensure Caleb wasn’t instantly dismissed. She was so uncertain as to whether or not she should grant him time with her, but she couldn’t let him go without at least casting her eyes upon him. Now that she had, she knew why. He was like a magnet to her – she was drawn to him, even to her own detriment.
For a silent, loaded moment, Caleb and Hannah stared at one another; the air charged with unspoken desires and repressed sentiments.
Caleb bypassed his request to the Butler for access and addressed Hannah directly. His voice hoarse with emotion, as he called out to her.
‘Hannah, is there a chance I may speak with you please?’
Hannah blinked, still unsure of the healthiest way to proceed. Her feet betrayed her – she found herself stepping down onto the top stair. Her movements were slow, reluctant and he watched her patiently, it sparked a memory of the first time he had seen her and how she gracefully negotiated the stairs. She had the same nervousness about her now but her eyes were fixed upon his and she did not once look away.
As she reached the large hallway, the Butler looked to her for approval. ‘Your Grace?’
Hannah broke her eye contact with Caleb for a moment to nod once at the Butler, signifying she was fine to meet with him. The Butler closed the front door and excused himself to the depths of the house.
Hannah walked up to Caleb and then straight past him, with a pinched authority and a knowing that he would follow her. She led him into a side parlour room and he came along, closing the door.
As soon as they were in the privacy of the room alone, Hannah turned to look out the window, allowing him space to say what he had come to express. Caleb’s words spilled out with desperation.
‘Hannah, I cannot apologise enough for my neglect of you. I know now that you are an incredibly talented artist and that your passion is teamed with tremendous skill. I am so sorry that I never demonstrated an interest in viewing your art. Had I been a more attentive husband to you, the artist reveal at Lady Wentworth’s exhibition should not have been a shock to me. I would have recognised your artwork and would have been equipped to respond with the support and pride that you deserved. I disappointed and abandoned you and will regret it for the rest of my life. You are so talented, Hannah…’
She turned from the window and Caleb could see that her eyes were glistening with unshed tears.
‘Additionally, I have been inexcusably unfair to you. My warm and welcoming efforts have turned quite suddenly to bitter cold rebuffs and my engaging chatter to stiff denial of your presence. I can explain…’
Hannah tilted her head, engrossed in his confession.
