Page 59 of The Bookshop By the Loch

“No, I would’ve remembered a dress like that.”

Maeve continued to admire it as she sat beside her mother. “Where did you say you got it from?”

Celeste squirmed against her cushions. Her voice was suddenly sharp, in stark contrast to before. “I didn’t say. Does it matter when and where I got it?”

Maeve blinked at her mother. “No, of course not.”

Celeste’s hand smoothed over the material, as it sailed down and over her lap. It concealed her wheelchair. Her cheeks popped with embarrassed colour and she gave Maeve an apologetic glance. “Forgive me, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I’m a cantankerous old cow sometimes.”

Maeve tapped her on the hand that was resting on the dress. “What do you mean sometimes?”

Tobias reached over. “May I?” and when Celeste said he could, he allowed the material of the dress to slide through his fingers. The way he touched it and appreciated the fabric with such tenderness was so sexy to watch, it was almost X-rated.

“This’ll spring from the canvas,” he said. “Against the backdrop of the castle, it’ll make for a striking portrait.”

“That’s what I was hoping you would say, young man.”

One of Celeste’s fingers reached under one of the thin straps. She moved it this way and that, allowing the light to glance against the encrusted silver. “I have a matching bolero to wear over it. At my advancing years, who’d want to see my bony old shoulders?”

Tobias shook his head. “My portraits never lie, Celeste. You’ll be seen as you really are and that’s as an amazing woman.”

“There’s the smooth talking again,” she said, with a wry smile.

“No, it’s the truth and you’ll see my paint brushes don’t lie either.”

“That’s excellent. At least I won’t be captured for all eternity in this wheelchair. I’ve splashed out on another one and have had it pimped-up, as you young ones say.”

“Pimped-up?” I asked, not being able to conceal a grin.

“Oh yes!” Celeste was indignant. “A rainbow stripey cushion and pink glittery arm rests. That’s the one I want to be in for my portrait. You can never have too much bling, dear girl!”

“Quite right too!” agreed Tobias. “It’s your portrait, so if you’d like to be painted in your pimped-up chariot, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Maeve’s arched brows waggled. “I didn’t know you got yourself another chair, Mum.”

Celeste gave her daughter a look. “I don’t tell you everything, darling, even if you are my daughter.”

“Oh, I’m starting to see that!”

Celeste gestured to her wheelchair again, struggling to conceal her frustration. “This might sound ridiculous but there are times when I still feel like a young woman, trapped in this dried up, bony old body.”

Tobias reached over and gestured to the gorgeous dress, still draped over Celeste’s lap. “I believe that the eyes say everything. If you think you’re still young, then that’ll come across in the painting.”

Celeste bit her lip. “I appreciate that very much, Tobias. Thank you.”

Tobias studied her. “Now, what I was thinking was capturing you in watercolour. I can use vibrant shades and give a new dimension to your portrait.” He gestured to the gorgeous dress, still tumbling over Celeste’s knees. “And I can build up layers of colour to enhance your gown and that complexion of yours.”

Celeste glowed with delight. “That sounds perfect. Thank you.” She turned back to me. “Now, I hope you don’t think I’m being rude, Maeve and Tobias, but would you mind if I had a private moment with Lexie, please?”

Tobias rose to his feet. “Of course.”

Maeve remained seated by her mother and frowned.

“Please, darling.”

Maeve disguised a sigh and followed Tobias out of the room. She clicked the door shut behind them.

I waited a few moments. “Is everything alright, Celeste?”