Page 4 of The Work of Art

Uncle Edgar and the gentlemen who had been with him in the library were walking toward them. To her dismay, Captain Heywood was with them.

As they approached, Philly discreetly took his measure. He was much taller than the other gentlemen, with broad shoulders and a lean, athletic build that seemed at odds with his use of a cane. Whatever had happened to him in the war, he still had the proud, upright carriage of a soldier.

His hair was jet black, with the barest hint of gray at his temples. His suit of clothes was black, as well; unnecessarily austere, as if he were in mourning. But it was his face that caught her notice most of all. It was solemn, almost to the point of harshness, and in it she had the distinct impression of pain.

It was hurting him to walk, as surely as it hurt when Fox attempted it. Why was he doing it, then? And why had her uncle and his friends been so insensitive as to impose such an activity upon him?

“Come, girls,” Uncle Edgar said. “We’re resolved to accompany you on your turn about the park. Lord Edgeworth, Lord Darly, Captain Heywood. My daughters, Elizabeth and Abigail. And my niece, Miss Phyllida Satterthwaite.”

As the introductions were made, Philly felt herself under painful scrutiny, and though she made the necessary polite replies, she instinctively looked away from the gentlemen who spoke to her.

This was the part of life in London she enjoyed least. These strained encounters with sophisticated strangers. She never felt so shy—so completely out of her element—as when they were peppering her with questions, or gazing with open curiosity at her face.

Lord Darly wasn’t any different. He made no attempt to conceal his avid stare. She supposed she should be honored. He was a gentleman of rank and fortune, eager to make her acquaintance. A handsome gentleman, too—if one liked golden-haired dandies of the fashionable variety.

As for Captain Heywood, it seemed he had no interest in her at all. He gave her the barest acknowledgement, his voice deep and a little rough, as if from lack of use, and then resumed looking fixedly off at some point beyond where she stood.

Why on earth had he come into the park? It was obviously not out of any desire to obtain a formal introduction to her. His mind was somewhere else entirely. Perhaps he was, even now, thinking of Lady Eliot?

“Shall we, ladies?” Lord Darly asked, giving Philly and her cousins a gleaming smile.

Philly wrapped both of her arms around Fox, holding him securely against her chest as she resumed walking. Basil, Jasper, and Dash meandered along beside her, their tongues lolling. They were too exhausted from racing around in the grass to pay the gentlemen any mind.

Lord Edgeworth and Uncle Edgar led their little procession. Philly, her cousins, and Lord Darly followed, with Captain Heywood walking a few steps behind.

Lord Darly talked easily to the ladies on a number of topics, ranging from the weather to Lord and Lady Worthing’s upcoming ball. Elizabeth made frequent flirtatious responses, and Abigail joined in whenever her older sister would allow it.

Philly had little to say, and when asked a question, usually confined herself to one-word answers. It wasn’t long until Lord Darly gave up his efforts to draw her out and directed his attentions to her much more obliging cousins.

Occasionally, Philly looked back and couldn’t help but notice that Captain Heywood’s gait was becoming more stilted, and the expression of pain on his face more pronounced.

Her heart swelled with compassion for him.

While Uncle Edgar and Lord Edgeworth talked together rather loudly about the stock exchange, and Lord Darly and her cousins laughed about some comedy at Drury Lane they’d all happened to see, Philly began to walk a little slower, shortening her stride until she was, quite naturally, at Captain Heywood’s side.

She took a deep breath. “I beg your pardon, sir. Might I avail myself of your arm?”

At the sound of Miss Satterthwaite’s voice, Arthur’s already uneven gait faltered. He’d been staring straight ahead, concentrating on putting one booted foot in front of the other, even as his leg screamed in protest. How long had she been beside him? Seconds? Longer? And now she desired a supportive arm? From him?

In another time and another place, he might have laughed. Her request was that ridiculous. That utterly absurd.

But a gentleman didn’t laugh in the face of a lady.

Instead, he wordlessly offered her his arm. The gesture was stiff. Formal.

In answer, Miss Satterthwaite shifted her little terrier into her left arm and linked her right arm through his.

Arthur’s entire body tensed. It had been years since he’d been in such close proximity with another human being. A feminine hand on his sleeve would have been challenge enough. But there was no ladylike formality in Miss Satterthwaite’s touch. Her hold on his arm was firm and true. It took an effort to resume walking. A single-minded focus on the contractions of his muscles and the rhythm of his breath.

They’d gone no more than a few uneasy steps when understanding set in.

She’d positioned herself so close to his side that anyone watching them would have thought she was leaning on him. Indeed, he suspected she’d meant to convey just that impression. In reality, it was quite the opposite. Without a pitying look or a word of sympathy, Miss Satterthwaite had lent him her support. And she’d done it in just such a way as to spare his foolish pride.

Arthur was oddly moved, yet at the same time he recoiled from her kindness.

The rest of their party was much farther ahead now. None of them seemed to have noticed that he and Miss Satterthwaite were walking arm in arm. Edgeworth’s booming voice carried on the afternoon breeze, as did the intermittent laughter of Darly and the Townsend chits. Arthur imagined they were all still talking about the same tedious subjects they’d been discussing twenty minutes before.

He considered saying something to Miss Satterthwaite. He could comment on the weather, perhaps, or ask her about her life in Devonshire. It was a foolish notion, and one he quickly dismissed. He’d seen her awkward interaction with Darly and Edgeworth, and unless he was very much mistaken, she was as little inclined to meaningless chatter as he was himself.