Page 115 of The Quiet Wife
“We just wanted to say hello,” Lizzie kissed him on the cheek chastely.
“Tea?” Frances offered, a little too loudly.
They retired to the morning room and once the footman had left and they were settled with tea and cake, Edith looked at Frances.
“Am I missing something?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Frances regarded her with an expression of innocence.
Before Edith could pursue the point, Jemie arrived looking slightly less dishevelled, but still with a smudge of green paint on his forehead. He settled himself next to Lizzie and smiled at them all.
“What?” he hesitated when everyone stared at him. “Do I still have paint on my face?”
“You do, my dear, but I’d just asked what I was missing,” Edith said with a pointed look.
“I don’t think you are missing anything,” Jemie swept his hair back. “Leyland arrived the other day and announced he didn’t like the work I’ve done in the dining room, but apart from that, all is well.”
“Didn’t like it?” William said, aghast.
Jemie’s grin was wry. “No. I believe his exact words were, it was vainglorious.”
“Lord,” Edith gasped.
“Well, I think it’s remarkable,” William said.
“Stunningly modern,” Edith declared. “As do most of the artists and connoisseurs who have been in the house to see it.”
Jemie bowed his head, seeming to appreciate the praise. “Thank you. I’m sure he will review his opinion and realise he is completely and utterly wrong.”
He said it with such a straight face. Edith and William exchanged glances and burst out laughing. The mirth subsided, and they talked of more mundane things for a little while until Jemie spoke directly to her.
“Actually, as you’re here, might I beg a moment of your time?” he asked Frances. “I would value your opinion on something.I wouldn’t want to annoy your husband any more than I already have.”
He glanced at the others. “If I might steal your hostess?”
They all murmured their agreement, and Frances left the room with him. She followed him to the dining room, where he shut the door behind them and locked it.
He turned to her and they watched each other for a long moment. This time it was she who opened her arms, and he walked into them. They held each other. Tightly.
“God, I’ve missed you,” he murmured softly into her hair.
“And I you. It’s been terrible without you.”
Jemie kissed her temple. “Has he been awful?”
“I’ve barely seen him. I’ve no idea if he’s still in London, but I doubt it’s the end of things. Frederick likes to make people suffer.”
Jemie nodded. “I will do all I can to remain on terms with him for your sake if nothing else. You have my word on that.”
Jemie stroked her cheek, then kissed her tenderly. She leaned into him and kissed him back with all the love in her heart. It remained tender for a moment, but the passion they had discovered reared its head and within seconds, they were devouring each other with wide, aching kisses that were nowhere near enough.
Jemie pulled back, gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead against hers as they tried to regain control over their breathing.
“What are we going to do?” Frances whispered, their future now feeling so terribly uncertain.
CHAPTER 38
London – Kensington
