Page 67 of The Muse of Maiden Lane

Laura took the chair that Neville had just vacated. “I’m sure you’ll hear from her today.”

“I’m not concerned,” Teddy lied. The subject of Stella wasn’t open for discussion. He’d already shared too much of her with his family. He didn’t plan on sharing anything more. “What is it you’d like to talk to me about?”

Laura smiled. “Nothing to worry you, I promise. Indeed, it’s happy news.”

Teddy tucked his sketchbook beside him in his wheeled chair. “You’re expecting a baby, I suppose.”

Laura appeared startled for an instant. But only for an instant. She exhaled an exasperated breath. “Must you spoil every surprise?”

“It’s no surprise to me. I’ve suspected it ever since that day you were ill at the house party.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because,” he replied frankly, “I’d hoped I was wrong.”

Laura’s face fell.

Teddy hastened to reassure her. “It isn’t that I don’t wish you and Alex every happiness,” he said. “And it isn’t that I wouldn’t like a little niece or nephew.”

“Then what?” she prompted softly.

“It’s because…I’m selfish.”

“In what way selfish?”

“If you’re expecting a baby, I shall have to do my utmost not to upset you.”

She half smiled. “You were anticipating upsetting me?”

“I was,” he said, with the same brutal candor. “Imminently.”

Laura’s brief smile faded. A sad understanding entered her gaze. “You don’t want to return to France.”

“Alex told you.” Teddy wasn’t entirely surprised.

“He’s been laying breadcrumbs,” she said. “I gathered you were considering the possibility of not coming home.”

“It’s not my home, Laura.”

“It is. It’s all our home now. You, me, and Alex. And don’t forget Magpie.”

A fleeting smile edged Teddy’s lips at the mention of his family’s temperamental piebald cat. Magpie had lived with Teddy and Laura in Surrey for years before Laura had married Alex and they’d all removed to France. Magpie was now settled contentedly at their farmhouse in Grasse, where he spent his days patrolling the lavender fields and dozing beneath the bitter orange trees.

“You and Alex have made a home there,” Teddy said. “Magpie, too. Now you’re having a baby, your family will be complete. You don’t need me anymore.”

She took his hand, pressing it hard. “Don’t be stupid.”

“I don’t mean it in a self-pitying way,” he said. “I want to stay in England. I have my own life to make. I want it to be in London. That’s where Turner began his career.”

“Not Turner again.”

“If I had a small studio of my own, and if I’m able to complete the painting I envision, I know I shall make a success of it there.”

“I’ve no doubt of your talent. It’s everyone else that gives me pause. London isn’t a welcoming place to someone in a wheeled chair.”

“No place is. What’s that to do with it?”

“You might be robbed or taken advantage of. Not to mention the accidents that could befall you. What if Jennings were to forget his duty and leave you to—”