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Gillian escorted them down a long hallway where statues and busts punctuated every several feet.
“We were able to borrow a handful of pieces of sculpture from the Royal Collection. We thought they would be a wonderful prelude into the exhibit itself.”
They walked through an arched doorway and into a room adorned with art. It was such a feast for the eyes that Dani didn’t know where to look first. The sounds of a live string quartet and the murmur of voices filled the room. Jameson had been told that the guests would be top tier level patrons of the museum, members of the aristocracy, and distinguished guests. Dani recognized several actors and actresses who’d been granted the title of Sir or Dame, as well as some faces from the tribute ball, although she’d never recall any of their names.
“Your Royal Highness,” an older woman in a beige tea-length dress said, dropping a brief curtsy to Jameson.
“It’s wonderful to see you, Ellie,” he said, shaking her hand when she straightened. “Have you met Duchess?”
Ellie arched a thin black brow. “No. I haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Duchess, this is the Countess of Salsbury, Eleanor Cameron, an old friend of the royal family. Ellie, this is Duchess.”
“Oh, I know who you are,” Ellie said, the cut of her black bob sharp against her pale cheek. “You’ve caused quite the stir in these circles.”
“That wasn’t my intention.”
“I’m sure,” she said, a little snidely. She refocused on Jameson. “I couldn’t believe it when I heard you were replacing Julian. But I’m glad you did. What was he thinking?”
“Only he knows,” Jameson said, diplomatically. “Have you had the opportunity to view the exhibit?”
Ellie waved her hand dismissively. “No one’s here for the art! We’ve seen it all before. The only thing anyone in this room is interested in is the fallout from the various scandals.”
Dani could see the realization dawning on Jameson, the look of dread coloring his eyes.
Ellie grabbed his arm. “Oh no, my boy, don’t you dare turn into a nervous wreck on me. You’re here representing not only the queen, but all of us. If the monarchy goes down, it’ll take the aristocracy with it. So, buck up.”
Dani didn’t like the tone the woman used to speak to Jameson, but she couldn’t deny the advice was good. He couldn’t fall apart, not with his mother’s future on the line. She tried to think of a way to snap him out of his feelings.
“Jay, have you told the countess about the JFL environmental prize you announced?”
“I haven’t.” Jameson smiled, a genuine one that brightened his eyes. “We’re finalizing the funding and I’ve been struck and moved by the response we’ve received. We’ve exceeded our initial projections.”
“That’s very interesting,” Ellie said, as she narrowed her eyes at Dani.
Dani stared back. The countess had wanted him to buck up.
Consider him bucked.
“Grandfather would’ve approved of—”
From experience, Dani knew Jameson would be occupied for a while. She squeezed his arm and went to take in the exhibit. While the hands she left him in weren’t friendly to her, theywouldmake sure he was taken care of.
She grabbed a flute from a circulating waiter and regarded the room. The walls were painted an olive green and the color complemented the golden frames, from ornate to minimalist, that seemed to recede into the wall and make the painting, photograph, or print pop.
Stares scalded her skin—made possible by the slate blue strapless gown that molded to her breasts and hips, snatched her waist, and flowed out in a skirt with structured waves that showed off quite a bit of leg. She ignored the looks, however, her interest solely on the artwork. She wanted to see more of Jameson’s family and understand the legacy that was so important to the queen that she was willing to do anything, sacrifice anyone, to protect it.
It might be a concept Dani could never comprehend. Other than Nana, she didn’t know or wasn’t close to her family, so she didn’t place her faith in the concept or hold it in high regard. Other than Nana, family had done nothing but let her down.
As conversation buzzed around her, Dani studied the display. The presentation began with paintings of his ancestors, featuring bright colors and stoic people. As time progressed, she began to recognize the subjects. There was an oil on canvas of a younger Marina standing with a man Dani knew was Prince John. Marina stillhad the same presence, but there was a glow about her, a happiness in her eyes as her husband gazed down at her with obvious tenderness. It was clear to see why the committee had chosen this picture.
There was a painting of Julian when he was named the Prince of Wales—the title placard called it the “Investiture of the Prince of Wales”—and while there was no denying he was a handsome man, his character was evident in the smirk he didn’t hide and the soft rounded curve of his jawline. What her Nana would call a weak chin. It was so apparent, Dani wondered how the artist got away with it. Any layperson looking at the portrait could see they hadn’t thought much of the subject.
And someone had chosen it for the exhibit.
“I’m not a fan of my uncle’s,” Jameson said, coming up next to her and sliding an arm around her waist, “but choosing this picture didn’t do him any favors.”
“Have you seen any of these portraits before?”
