“Certainly you are,” he said, then, as she bridled a little, he added, “The whole world is my subject, Miss Lottie. There is not a person alive who is not interesting to me.”
In answer, she turned and stalked through the opposite door, which brought them to the White Drawing Room, which Lance already knew. It was, like most of the public rooms, designed to be overpoweringly imposing, filled with gilt-edged furnishings, paintings, mirrors and a plethora of sconces and candelabra, as well as the dancing cherubs on the ceiling. Much as he admiredthe art, it was not a place where he could set up his easel, so they moved on through the dining room, another over-decorated space, and on through the sequence of rooms.
“The final room on this side is Mr Godley’s,” Charlotte said. “If we go this way instead, we will come to the chapel.”
In contrast to the ornamentation of the principal rooms, the chapel was almost starkly plain, with pale walls and rows of silk-covered chairs at the front and wooden benches at the back for the servants. Only the beautifully embroidered altar cloth added a little colour to the room. If it had faced north, Lance would have commandeered it at once, but its high windows brought only the changeable southern rays.
“And here is the morning room,” Charlotte said, throwing open the door at the back of the chapel.
“Where the ladies sit,” he said, smiling as a gaggle of eager faces turned his way.
“Why, Mr Chamberlain,” said one of them, jumping up at once, “are you making a tour of the house? And with Charlotte? I should have shown you around, if I had known you wished it.”
He did not have to scrabble in his mind for her name. She was too beautiful to be one of the endless supply of Merrington ladies, who were none of them out of the ordinary.
“You are very kind, Duchess, but Miss Lottie has been helping me find a suitable place to set up my studio.”
“Miss Lottie? I have never heard her called that before.”
“It suits her face better than Charlotte, it seems to me. Names are so important, are they not?”
“Indeed.”
She looked up at him, for she was quite a small creature, but very lovely, especially smiling in just that way. He was aware of a frisson of interest. Now, if she were not married… or perhaps Denny was right, and a young duchess married to an elderly duke might be open to a little flirtation. Nothing more,for he was no fool, but he could certainly provide her with some entertainment if she were so minded.
“Do you always change names in that way?” she went on, gazing at him guilelessly in a way which he found enchanting.
“Only if a name does not suit the person so named.”
“What of my name? I am Lily.”
“I would not change that, for it suits you perfectly,” he said gravely.
“Ah.” She went a little pink, which was sweet in one who must surely have been fêted wherever she went. “And have you as yet found a suitable spot for your artistry? We have a great many more rooms upstairs, if nothing appeals to you on this floor.”
“I rather like the library, if space might be found for my easel there. The light is perfect, the imposing dimensions are a reminder of the exalted rank of my patron and there is inspiration on the walls of previous portraits.”
“Oh yes! The three duchesses, and you will be painting the next in line. Let us go through there and see how it might be managed, for the room is much used.”
“I should not wish to inconvenience anyone,” Lance said politely, but in his mind he was already determined to use the library.
The duchess sailed ahead of him through the various apartments back to the library. The gaggle of Merrington ladies clustered around the duchess, all making their own suggestions as to how the room might best be rearranged. Then Mr Hammond was called in, and the red haired lady, to give their opinion. Apart from pointing out that he needed the light from the window, Lance left them to work it out for themselves.
“It will have to be the middle window,” the duchess said at last. “The others are too close to the doors, so we shall have tomove this table and the miniatures cabinet. Jamie, will you ring the bell for Froggett, and we can get this done today.”
“Do not rush on my account,” Lance said easily. “It will be days before I first put brush to canvas. I need to make some sketches of my subject first, and discuss the pose with his grace.”
“Why with his grace?” the duchess said. “Why not with Rowena herself? She will have an opinion on the matter, I suspect.”
“Because the duke is to pay Mr Chamberlain’s fee,” Miss Charlotte said. “He is the person who must be pleased by the painting, after all.”
And Lance laughed out loud to hear his own words parroted back at him. “Quite right, Miss Lottie,” he said, with a little bow. “But I will allow that the lady herself, or her husband, might have an opinion on the matter, too.”
Lance left them to their plans and slipped away, finding a footman to show him to the oddly named middle attic, which the duke had been pleased to make available for his fencing practice. He found Denny pacing about a light, airy space, while a couple of housemaids on their knees finished scrubbing the floor.
“This is perfect, is it not?” Denny said, arms extended to encompass the whole attic.
“An empty attic? Whoever heard of such a thing?” Lance said, laughing. “Surely the smallest unused space fills up with broken chairs and boxes of old clothes within the week.”
