Page 15 of The Quiet Wife
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Frances moved the guests and children out of the house quickly before Frederick could make another appearance and dampen everyone’s mood, not just her own.
Alastair and Mr Carlisle walked with Aunt Agatha and Miss Woodgrove, each lending a lady his arm. Edith and William strode along briskly with the artists and the children, so Frances brought up the rear of the party beside her sister,Lizzie, who gave her a knowing look. “You’re in a blue funk,” she remarked.
“I argued with Frederick.” Frances’ shoulders sagged and she rubbed her temple.
They walked in time with each other, the rhythm of the movement was soothing.
“What’s wrong with old Fred? Let me guess, you want to do something fun, and he didn’t like it?” Lizzie tilted her head back.
“He’s really not like that.” Defence of her husband came naturally and swiftly to Frances, being well practiced at this art, although she sometimes wondered why she bothered with Lizzie. She knew him far too well.
“Darling, he really is.”
Frances looked away, not being able to bear her sister looking at her. “He was angry that I’d invited the children to join us. You don’t think that was a mistake, do you?”
“Of course not,” Lizzie assured her. “I’d have been jolly annoyed if you’d left them behind and so would everyone else.”
Frances nodded, pleased neither her judgement had been wrong nor her behaviour untowardly.
“You do know it’s not always you that is wrong.”
Frances hesitated but nodded, the words resonating.
“Frances, darling, you both came from the same background. He’s not part of the aristocracy no matter how much he pretends to be. He’s a jumped-up ship worker. Your background is his background. As is mine.”
“Lizzie,” Frances hissed, trying to suppress a smile.
“Has he bought the wretched company yet?”
Frances shook her head. “I don’t think so. He’s very tense. I have the sense that he’s making himself unpopular over it. I don’t think the shareholders want him to buy Bibby but don’t tell him I said that.”
“Well, there’s a surprise,” Lizzie rolled her eyes.
Frances leaned into her. “I’m glad you’re here,” she murmured. Lizzie was younger than her but often times it felt like she was the sensible, adult one and Frances was the floundering child. Lizzie hugged her arm tightly.
“William and Alastair are so good for Freddie,” Lizzie observed after a little while. “Makes up for the miserable way Fred treats him.”
This time Frances didn’t leap to Frederick’s defence, knowing he didn’t deserve it. “I always thought Frederick would want him to learn the business. I supposed he would want to give him the best training so he could take over the reins when he retired. I thought he’d have had more…interestin his son.”
“So would I, love. So would I.” Lizzie agreed.
In quiet moments, Frances wondered if the notion of one day having to hand over the company to someone else was simply too difficult for her husband to bear, considering how hard he’d worked to get to where he was. Sometimes, if felt as though even the thought of handing it to his son was perhaps too much to bear.
They crested the hill, and Frances laughed to see that her incredibly efficient servants had set up some easels, paints, and papers. Goodness alone knew where they had come from. A row of picnic tables lay close by, and Frances made a note to thank them later for their quick thinking.
The ladies sat in the shade of a large tree where blankets and chairs awaited. Mr Rossetti flitted about setting up painting stations for all four of the children, telling them what paints they required, how they needed to consider the sun, the shadow it cast, and how to sharpen pencils to just the right point for sketching. All of them hung on his every word, even Freddie who cared little for art.
Mr Rossetti finished distributing the paint pots and charcoal, then retired to sit with the adults. Frances was going to go over and help the children, but Mr Whistler threw himself into the proceedings with gusto, much to the children’s delight. Moments later, he called over to his friend.
“Rossetti, we need your wise counsel. Gentlemen, do join us.”
Mr Rossetti made a play of sighing but rose to his feet, as so did Alastair and Mr Carlisle, making the children shriek with joy at having their attention. Mr Whistler stripped off his jacket, causing Frances to blink, and a riotous lesson ensued. Frances simply watched in absolute delight and for the first time in what felt like forever, she sat back, relaxed, and enjoyed the company unreservedly.
“What do you think of Mr Whistler?” Edith asked as she accepted a glass of wine.
Frances regarded the man in question as he rushed about in the sunshine, enthralling her children.
