“Nothing.”
“Well, I am delighted to see you with the sun shining down on your lovely face. I am so fatigued come evening. It’s rare that we get to spend time together without Arthur or the children, and I should like to do more of it.”
“Truly?” Julianna was touched.
“Yes. Perhaps that is what you are trying to tell yourself in the guise of Father.Spend more time with your sister.” She had lowered her voice as if imitating Father on that last bit, and they both laughed.
A fanciful idea landed, made a little dent in the rock in Julianna’s chest. “Do you think I could dye the ribbon on my bonnet navy? I could run and get it now.”
Amy agreed, and a few minutes later she plopped said ribbon into her cauldron. “I’m not sure going from gray to navy is going to make much of a difference, if a change is what you’re after.”
“I just thought it would be a little less drab. And I have that navy spencer.”
“Oh, yes, it will look smart with the spencer.”
“But I think I would like a change. Perhaps it is time to have a new dress made.”
“Oh, yes! And may I suggest a departure from your usual palette?”
“By which you mean ‘not gray.’”
“By which I mean ‘not gray,’ Amy confirmed. “Green would be just the thing. It would go so well with your eyes.”
* * *
Julianna was wearing her new moss-green dress three weeks later when Effie came back. Once again, he was not alone. He was accompanied by Lords Marsden and Harcourt and two ladies.
“Hullo, Miss Evans.”
She managed to be less flustered by his appearance this time.
“We are here to paint page four,” he said blithely.
Julianna shot to her feet from where she had been sitting at her desk—so much for less flustered. “Pardon?”
“The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t abide the sunrise dress being rendered in black and white. Won’t Mr. Glanvil be surprised that there are two color pages in this issue?” He tilted his head as Julianna gaped at him. “Though perhaps it might be better to give him a copy without the dress colored.”
Julianna remained unable to find words, but it didn’t seem to matter, for Effie kept speaking. “I’ve brought some friends. ‘Many hands make light work’—isn’t that something people say? I know the magazines are coming off the press today. What would normally happen after that? Do they somehow get posted from the printing house? They mustn’t, though, because they have to be colored. I admit I don’t know what the normal process is, but I am keen to learn.”
Effie proceeded to introduce her to the Countess of Harcourt, and her sister, Miss Olive Morgan.
Julianna was stunned. So much so that she forgot to curtsy. Or to blink. She still could not speak.
“In summation,” Effie said, “I propose we get as many copies of December here as we can, and get to work.”
“We brought fortifications,” Miss Morgan said, setting a picnic basket on Julianna’s desk and pulling from it a bottle of wine.
“Perhaps that is better saved for when we are done,” Lady Harcourt said. “I have never undertaken this kind of work, but I imagine a steady hand is needed—perhaps wine and watercolor don’t mix.”
Miss Morgan responded to her sister’s supposition by producing a glass. “Oh, pish.”
Everyone looked at Julianna then, all of them all at once, as if they were a flock of birds flying as one and she their leader.
Overwhelmed by . . . everything, Julianna ordered herself to find her voice. She elected to answer Effie’s question of fact. “I have a few dozen copies of December here, and the rest are at the printer, but I could have them delivered here.”
“Splendid.” Effie performed his signature single clap. “And I for one would adore a nip of wine.” He came close to Julianna and whispered, “I’ve brought my January Mrs. Landers letters, too, though I don’t know why I’m whispering. Everyone here with the possible exception of the countess knows I am she.”
Much to-ing and fro-ing followed. The gentlemen moved stacks of magazines into piles on the desks and table. The countess distributed paintbrushes and watercolor sets. Miss Morgan poured wine.
