‘Whoever would have thought we would end up marrying a pair of best friends?’ Sophia gabbled excitedly.
‘You are absolutely radiant, Sophia,’ Hannah gushed, feeling quite emotional.
‘I feel it!’ Sophia’s smile was wide and jubilant, matching that of her new husband.
Caleb drew close to Albert’s ear.
‘Dutton the rake, settling down! The Eton boys wouldn’t believe it!’ Caleb jested. Albert batted him away playfully.
The wedding breakfast was for the same intimate group of loved ones who attended the ceremony; but the Camden dining room was lively with chatter and laughter as the Camden and Dutton families and associated friends bonded over banter and sharing stories.
At one point, Caleb leaned toward Hannah and gently asked;
‘Do you wish I had not applied for special license on our nuptials and that our wedding could have been more a celebration similar to this?’
Hannah took a moment of thought before responding.
‘I confess, at the time, I did.’
Caleb dropped his eyes in remorse.
‘But now I cannot bring myself to regret anything about our story. If we changed one detail, we may not be in the wondrous place we are now!’ Hannah smiled at him and he took her hand beneath the table, squeezing it and smiling back at her.
***
Hannah’s gift to the new couple had to be wheeled in by several staff members, such was its size. The canvas had been an enormous, exciting project to work with and Caleb had taken pleasure in helping her to choose the perfect gilt frame.
A huge cloth hung over the gift and Sophia clapped her hands in delight as Hannah and Caleb stood either side of the vast canvas to pull away the cloth and reveal the image beneath. When they did so, the artwork inspired a collective gasp from the wedding party. Hannah had painted the same view of the Gloucestershire hills that Sophia and Albert had admired together in Nathaniel’s exhibition, but she had employed a new perspective - the view from above as the crow flies. The sky showed thunderclouds gathering in the far distance and a bright sunshine spell of light in the foreground. It seemed to Sophia that the more she studied it, the more detail she could see.
‘Hannah, this is the most wonderful gift you could have given us!’ Sophia gushed, embracing her friend, with tears threatening.
‘It will be hung in our finest drawing room,’ Albert asserted. ‘Pride of place, forever more. Thank you, Hannah.’
As Hannah and Caleb rejoined the crowd, Evelyn and Vincent smiled proudly at their daughter.
‘It’s a glorious piece, darling,’ Vincent praised his daughter. ‘Why, I almost feel as though I am flying when I look upon it!’
‘Will you be exhibiting your work anywhere again soon, Hannah?’ Evelyn leaned in keenly toward her daughter.
‘Indeed, mother. Lady Wentworth was highly appreciative of the exposure afforded to her exhibition through the news sheets last month.’ Hannah stole an apologetic look at Caleb, wary of reminding him of this difficult time. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged, so she continued.
‘Lady Wentworth said that the attention garnered by the Alexander Burton furore procured her rather a lot of interested patrons. She has asked me to be her main contributor at her summer exhibition!’
‘That’s wonderful!’ Evelyn clapped her hands together in triumph. After all that had transpired her mother had reconsidered her stance regarding her daughter’s inclinations and had grown to admire her remarkable talent.
‘May I add,’ Caleb interrupted, ‘that Lady Wentworth has specifically requested she exhibit under the name Her Grace Hannah, Duchess of Montwood andnotunder any male pseudonyms.’
Hannah’s parents opened their mouths in impressed surprise.
‘What a brave young lady you are!’ Vincent smiled, putting his arm around his daughter.
Hannah could hardly reconcile these people with the parents who had spent her childhood trying to separate her from her paint palettes. She sighed, happily. Times were changing and she was excited to be one of the trailblazers – her parents were only acting upon the instruction of society and she had forgiven them.
Hannah turned to her sister, Clara who was standing with her husband, James.
‘Clara, will you likely still be here in the summer, potentially to visit Lady Wentworth’s exhibition?’
Clara turned to James, who was still staring in awe at Hannah’s painting.
