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“Perhaps. I might have thought that it was the work of Arthur Wetherby. The man is a talented painter, is he not?”
She scoffed, dipping a brush into some paint. “Now, this may take some time, but you can tell me of your interests. Since you are the prized catch of the Season, even insipid wallflowers will be vying for your attention.”
He groaned, not wanting to talk about anything relating to marriage or the Season. Theodore wanted to think about something else, to talk about how he never knew that his grandmother was an excellent painter. But knowing her, she would not talk about anything other than nuptials.
“Having been forced into every London Season since I became of marriageable age, I should be getting some respite about now.”
“Respite indeed. As the years go by, the mamas will only push their daughters into your lap. Even Lord Fife — the old widower that is grazing death — will get married this Season. Before long, all the women in London would have been married off. I doubt your mistresses would give you the comfort and bliss of marriage.”
“Is marriage the panacea for loneliness? I hear alcohol soothes the mind much more than any courtship,” Theodore said with a frown, his jaw clenched. “Must I take part in this preposterous rigmarole? I must say that I have no time on my hands.”
“You have all the time on your hands, Theodore. Are you merely turning away from the prospect of marriage because you are afraid? Or are there other reasons?”
“In retrospect, I believe the ladies of thetonhave nothing to offer, merely hiding behind painted smiles and the modiste’s muslin. Look at the Montgomerys, for instance. His wife cannot do anything except host balls and waste money.”
“Is it not the role of women to host balls and entertain guests? Surely, you cannot expect the men to do that. Or are you searching for something much more titillating?”
“Good wit, genuine interest in literature and poetry. A bride that can be perfectly capable of running things in my stead,” Theodore answered, and his mind recalled the yellow-haired woman in the garden.
She was strange and audacious but also intelligent. Theodore could still see her face when he thought about her hard enough. And she likened him to Jack Whitticombe. He thought of it now as a compliment. Not that any lady should read that type of literature, but she certainly surprised him with her witty remarks.
Going for what she wanted without embarrassment made her all the more intriguing. He smiled when he thought about the kiss before Perceval interrupted them. But then, she made her opinions clear. She would never have a rake for a husband.
The Duchess let loose a laugh as she painted. “You want your wife to read you poetry before bed? Because I see no reason for —”
They were interrupted by the arrival of a maid into the atelier. She scurried over to the Duchess and whispered something into her ear. His grandmother smiled and talked in hushed tones to the maid.
When they were through, she turned back to the painting. “I believe our attention is needed in the drawing-room. Lady Patridge is here to see us.”
Theodore raised a suspecting eyebrow. “Us? I do not even know who she is.”
She cleaned her hand meticulously, trying to get off the paint that clung to her fingers. Then she asked Theodore to draw the windows before leaving to avoid the sun ruining the paintings. When he looked at the canvas on the easel, his eyes almost popped out of their sockets. The person in the portrait looked nothing like him. with an overly large head hanging on a frail body. Everything was definitely out of proportion — something that his grandmother had done on purpose.
As they marched back to the drawing-room, the Duchess complained endlessly about his marital status. Theodore closed his ears to the string of complaints, his mind elsewhere. He made a mental note to do some research on the Jarvis family. That was the family the blonde woman he kissed was from. At least, he was glad that he remembered.
“Good morning, Your Graces,” the older woman of the two said, bobbing a curtsy. The younger lady followed suit, a smile on her face.
Theodore’s expression was stoic, and he remained silent while his grandmother greeted them warmly. He made up his mind to return to Wallington Estate within the week. The aristocrats of London preferred the society over the countryside. When he moved back there, he was sure that the women would stop disturbing him.
“Your Grace,” Lady Patridge said to Theodore, “this is my daughter. Miss Edna.”
Theodore could see that she was flustered, her cheeks aglow to match her pink morning dress. Edna smiled alluringly at him and then evaded his eyes. His expression remained the same. Hard, unflinching, and cold.
Moments later, the maids came with trays piled with thin slices of toast, cake, scones, and lemonade. The guests wasted no time nibbling into the slices of toast, trading amiable smiles at him. Theodore returned every gesture with a relaxed indifference, his mind occupied with thoughts of his own.
Soon, the Dowager Duchess and Lady Patridge started talking. Their discussion revolved around promenades, the events of the previous Season, and juicy gossip to fill the time. Then they tried to involve Theodore in their discussions.
“Did you hear of the latest news? I heard something that is sure to catch your interest,” Lady Patridge said, gently placing the glass of lemonade on the table.
The Duchess shook her head, reclining further in the armchair. “I have heard no such news. Although, I believe this Season to be dull compared to the last.”
Lady Patridge smiled mischievously. “I heard the Jarvis chit was seen without a chaperone in the garden, far away from the prying eyes of theton. I have never seen such a young woman who is brazen about lacking in virtue.”
“Brazen? Where did this happen?” the Duchess asked, tapping her cane impatiently on the floor.
“Right under our noses, Your Grace. At yesterday’s ball while we were all having our...indulgences.”
Theodore’s eyes widened as he listened to the conversation. Her name rang in his mind as he recalled the night’s events. Helen Jarvis. He had warned her about what would happen.
