Page 13 of The Quiet Wife
“Topping,” Alastair nodded. “Meet my friend Carlisle.”
Mr Carlisle shook his hand with a broad smile.
The door opened and Frederick entered accompanied by Mr Rossetti and Mr Whistler. The good-natured noise subsided into polite smiles.
“Leyland,” Alastair stepped forward. “Good to see you. I don’t think you’ve met my dear friend Justin Carlisle?”
Frederick shook Alastair’s hand and nodded at Mr Carlisle. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He gestured to the men by his side. “Mr Gabriel Dante Rossetti, and Mr James McNeill Whistler.”
“Did you have an enjoyable walk, darling?” Frances asked.
Frederick ignored her question but gave her a pointed look. “I presume the children are on their way to the nursery?”
Frances held her composure and avoided the dejected looks on their faces. “Of course, they were just greeting our guests.”
The last of the fun-filled atmosphere of moments ago quickly withered.
“Children?” she gathered them to her with as bright a smile as she could muster. Elinor looked mulish and cast her father a stern stare.
“Don’t worry,” she whispered gently. “You’ll see our guests again soon.”
“When?” Elinor demanded.
“We will see them on the picnic,” Fannie squeezed her sister’s hand and ushered her along.
Elinor brightened, as did the others, but before they could demand more information, her husband interrupted, his tone quiet and terrifyingly mild.
“What picnic is this?” His ears as sharp as ever.
Frances held on to her hostess smile with everything she had. “If you recall, my dear, I said that I would take a walk with the ladies whilst you entertain the gentlemen? I thought that as it’s such an unusually lovely day, a picnic would be just the thing.”
“We arrived just in time and determined not to miss out on the fun,” Alastair offered in jovial tones that failed to move her husband.
Frances glanced at Aunt Agatha, who was watching Frederick through narrowed eyes.
He sniffed. “There is no need to involve the children. I’m sure our guests don’t want to be bothered by them.” He spoke as if they were not standing before him and listening to every careless word. Frances wanted to slap him. They were almost adults, not children to be banished to a nursery they grew out of many years ago. As the uncomfortable silence lengthened, she groped for something to say that would not inflame him. Something that might persuade him it was a good idea for them to accompany the party. In the end, it was Mr Whistler who jumped in and saved them from impending disaster.
“Seriously? An English picnic! How marvellous! Could you include another in your party?” Mr Whistler came over to Frances eagerly, a boyish grin on his face.
“I have a fondness for the outdoors, and I love to sketch on picnics. Anyone else enjoy drawing outside?” he asked, casting his gaze across the gathered children.
The children stared at him, in awe.
“I do,” ventured Fannie nervously. “I love to draw.”
“Then we can picnicandsketch. The perfect way to spend a sunny day. Will you join us, Leyland? Rossetti?” He grinned at Frederick and patted him on the chest, causing Frances’ breath to catch in her throat. “I wouldn’t mind in the slightest if the children join us. I can test my skills at teaching,” he declared. “Anyone else mind?”
Mr Rossetti laughed. “I think I should enjoy it enormously. Leyland? With your permission? We can leave your business types to your ponderings unless, of course, you all want to join in the fun?”
To Frances’ eyes, Frederick looked coldly furious as he exhaled, but she suspected the guests didn’t catch it.
He offered a gracious incline of his head. “Of course. I’m sure you’ll have a marvellous time, but I hope you won’t be disappointed if I don’t join you.”
The murmured assurances seemed to do the trick, and Frederick promptly left.
“Children, I look forward to your company!” Mr Whistler sank into a theatrical bow, making the girls giggle and Freddie grin. As she ushered them away, Mr Whistler gave Frances a frankly conspiratorial grin which surprised and alarmed her in equal measure.
CHAPTER 6
