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“You can’t be quite sure of that,” he replied. “But I appreciate the sentiment. The show must go on, come what may.” He held her hand in a bone-crushing squeeze.
Prince George had not replied to the invitation.
The grandfather clock down the checkered hallway boomed the hour.
“No one makes an early appearance these days,” she said.
He jerked his head in a nod, and she listened once more for the music.
The doors swung open, and guests began to trickle in. Hawthorne strode up to them in greeting, and Anne surreptitiously stretched the cramp from her hand from where Hawthorne had gripped it into numbness.
There was a steady stream after that of men from the House of Lords mingling in the hallway with their counterparts from the Commons, many of whom were accompanied by their wives. Hawthorne’s nephew, Edward, was there, cheerfully talking to some of the younger lords. Champagne was popped and poured by a team of footmen.
Anne ensured that crisp pamphlets were pressed into each parliamentary palm. She had paid a visit to Letty’s friend Marcus, remembering that he was a stationer, and had begged a favor from him to arrange a rush printing with a publisher for the occasion. The pamphlets were sixteen pages apiece, two pages for each of the eight public rooms that would be part of the public tour. One page featured a detailed illustration, and the other was a description and any notes of interest.
Anne had poured over Letty’s sketchbooks for hours to select the best parts to include. If there had been more time than a week, she would have liked to have the illustrations colored, but she decided there would be time enough to arrange a bigger printing which would be distributed to the public when they paid their shilling at the door for their tour.
She wanted people to remember Letty’s work, to take it home with them. More than memories of the rooms—something concrete and tangible. It was like giving away a little part of the house to each visitor.
Anne nodded to Hawthorne from across the room. Now that a half hour had passed, it was time for Hawthorne’s speech and the tour to begin.
A knot had settled in her belly. Neither the prince nor Letty had showed up. But there would be time enough to soak her pillow in tears tonight. Now, there was still an event to get through.
There was a tapping behind her, and a touch on her forearm, and suddenly Anne’s world was complete. Letty stood there with Robert.
Anne sighed with relief. “I knew you were coming back,” she said and fought the urge to sweep her into her embrace.
Letty’s dress was plain compared to the lords’ wives, but she had a distinct style all her own that made Anne’s heart swell with pleasure. She was magnificent in a striped twill dress and a neat cravat, her gloved hands folded over the head of her walking stick.
“Of course I came back. I never said good-bye, did I?” Her mischievous smile was a balm to Anne’s soul.
Anne wanted to say more, but Robert’s presence stilled her tongue.
“No one will know I’m here,” Letty said, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing footman. “I shall be quite secretive, worry not. Though it will be nice to see the reactions on people’s faces as they see the house, this is Hawthorne’s moment, as it should be.”
Anne smiled. It wasn’t just Hawthorne’s moment.
Hawthorne leapt up a few stairs of the grand staircase, where the light shone down from the glass in the ceiling four floors above them. Her husband was no golden god. He had no perfect Byronic looks. But he had charm and magnetism beyond compare, and Anne was so proud of him for his willingness to stand apart from the society that she had always yearned to be part of.
“Greetings, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Hawthorne House. Some of you may have been here before as guests of my beloved wife. To those of you who are here for the first time, I beg your pardon as I am far from being as perfect a hostess as the duchess.”
He nodded to Anne, who dipped her head in response amidst the crowd’s appreciative murmurs.
“In the tradition of some of the other great houses in this neighborhood, I will be throwing open the doors to Hawthorne House every Monday to all and sundry. Any who wish to visit may secure a voucher and walk through these eight public rooms, the same as you will today. Why else have we accumulated art if not to share it with the people? How else can a duke share in the democracy of ideas, if he does not embrace his fellow man? The dukedom may have been granted to me by spiritual grace. This is what my father taught me, though I have kept out of churchly matters for so long that I nolonger know if this is true.” The crowd laughed. “But what is ours in this house is temporal. There are treasures from past cultures, and wonders from current artists and artisans alike. I wish to share our life with the people, so they may come to understand what it is that this dukedom stands for. Freedom to seek one’s own path, and equality for my fellow man and woman.”
The applause was scattered, but most importantly, the looks on people’s faces were thoughtful. Respectful. Even without the prince in attendance.
Hawthorne raised a hand. “I would be remiss if you all left here today thinking that what you are about to see is wrought from my own inspiration. I owe everything to my wife, the Duchess of Hawthorne.” She curtsied to warmer applause. “But most important of all, I want you to acknowledge the brilliant taste and talents of our designer. Please join me in a warm hand of applause for Miss Letitia Barrow.”
Letty blinked as the crowd murmured and craned their heads to look for her. Hawthorne grinned and gestured to her, and after darting a look at Anne, she shoved her champagne into Robert’s hand and strode up to join the duke on the staircase. Standing there in the sun were two of the most important people in Anne’s life. Her heart swelled to see them exchange an easy smile.
“Your mother is the most talented woman I have ever met,” Anne said sternly to Robert. She had not forgotten his poor treatment of Letty the last time she saw him.
“Yes, Your Grace.” His voice was meek.
“Thank you for welcoming me to Hawthorne House, Your Grace,” Letty said, her voice loud and clear. “It has been an honor beyond compare to have contributed to the majesty of this estate. I sought to embody your character and your ideals among the details, and I can only hope that I have met with some small success.” She winked. “Now, I am free for hire if any other of your grand houses needs refreshing.” The crowd laughed as she curtsied to Hawthorne, and he kissed her hand.
People stopped her to say a few words as Letty made her way back to Anne.
