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Chapter 38
Lucy stepped back to observe her work. It was dark, except for the beam of sunlight emanating through the branches. She wanted something baroque, passionate. It was a diversion from her usual sun-drenched fruits and flowers.
She was pleased with the result—a stunning figural work, with the two lovers in the middle of the forest, surrounded by stunning wildflowers. It made her heart race. She could not deny that it was her and Silas, though she did plan to make changes—make them look less similar. She didn’t know where to hang it. Her own bedchamber seemed the most likely space for it.
“Lucy,” Aunt Joan called from the doorway. Lucy looked up, jarred from the deep, meditative focus that she’d been in. “Miss Sweet is here!”
Dinah peered inside the room, waving to Lucy. She was dressed in black, still. Though, the colour suited her dark hair and blue eyes, it was not her usual choice of white or pale pink.
“Welcome!” Lucy said, setting her brush aside. She looked down at her hands, which were smudged with paint. She quickly wiped them on the rag that she kept nearby before unbuttoning her smock.
“Can I see what you’re working on?” Dinah asked curiously.
“Of course.” Lucy stepped back. The two friends stood, side by side, and considered the work. When Lucy glanced over at her friend, Dinah was smiling at it. Lucy felt herself blush bright crimson.
“The way that they’re looking at each other,” Dinah commented. “Such passion that you evoke.”
“Indeed,” Lucy said.
“Is this how you feel about my brother?” she asked.
“Yes,” Lucy admitted. “Very much so.”
“I hope that someday, I feel that way about Reginald,” Dinah said, dreamily. “I do esteem him, and I know that we’ll make each other happy, but…”
“Perhaps, you will.” Lucy laughed. “Aunt Joan says that it’s too racy except for in the boudoir.”
They both giggled wickedly, their eyes meeting.
“She’s right,” Dinah replied, tilting her head to the side. “Although, I will have a boudoir of my own to decorate in the coming months… is there any way that I might purchase it from you?”
“Oh, Dinah. You are wicked.”
“I mean it.”
“The Marchioness of Browing, with a racy portrait on the wall of her bedchamber?” Lucy raised her eyebrow.
“Of course!” Dinah beamed.
“Then you shall have it as a wedding gift from me,” Lucy assured her. “Now, come. Let’s go over and sit down.”
The two friends settled in for a lazy chat. Dinah was full of wedding plans, and party plans. She was clearly in her element.
“The mourning period will be over soon, so we will be able to throw the party at the house. With the renovations, it looks completely new. My brothers both had a hand in it.”
“I look forward to seeing it,” Lucy said. She was excited about the party—it would be the first time that she and Silas would be at a public function together since they had started courting.
“You’ll absolutely die when you see what’s been done to the ballroom,” Dinah said. “The floor was redone, so that the tiles form a rose in the very centre.”
“That sounds beautiful.” Lucy could picture it, or so she thought. She had never seen such a detailed floor, however, and didn’t have anything to compare it to.
“Indeed. The two of them have spared no expense.”
“Sounds like it.”
“You’ve made Silas the happiest of men,” she said. “I haven’t seen him so happy and confident in years.” She tilted her head. “I do look forward to us being sisters. You’ll do so well as the Viscountess of Thornbridge.”
That brought Lucy up to a halt. “I… I hadn’t thought of that,” she mused, panicking.
“Of course, you’ll do admirably,” Dinah said, clearly a lot more confident in Lucy’s abilities as a hostess than she should have been.
Dinah stayed for a while more. Lucy kept up with the conversation, but inside, she was in a massive panic. She couldn’t imagine being Lady Thornbridge, but should she marry Silas, that was exactly who she would be.
The thought terrified her.
