Page 18 of The Quiet Wife
“Hello,” he greeted before swiftly turning his attention back to his drawing. “I was going about my business, calm as you please, and these four ambushed me, dragged me in here, and ordered me to draw them!”
The howls of outrage from the girls made Frances laugh and Mr Whistler glanced at her, a grin curving his lips.
“Why don’t you squeeze in at the end and I’ll include you too?”
Frances shook her head. “I’m quite happy to observe.”
“Freddie will be furious he missed out on being sketched,” Fannie said with a wicked smile. The others agreed.
“Do you mind if I watch?” Frances asked, moving closer.
Mr Whistler was by now re-absorbed in the emerging sketch and didn’t respond, so she presumed he had no objection and sat where she could see the progress he was making,which was astounding. Watching those swift, sure marks that he applied, and the energy with which he approached the task, meant that a remarkably lifelike picture emerged rapidly with only a few strokes. It was incredible.
She leaned forward and watched as he captured exactly Fannie’s shy smile before moving on to Lizzie and catching her forthright, no-nonsense eyes perfectly, even though they continued moving around.
“I thought people had to sit perfectly still for a portrait.”
Mr Whistler shot her a glance. “For a portrait, yes. However, I’m just sketching and trying to capture the feeling of the people involved. I do this a lot before starting a portrait. I’ll be hounding your husband soon to do some informal sketches of him. You too.” He put the pencil down and held up the paper.
“What do you think?” he asked, his blue eyes sparkling.
She looked at the sketch and then at the excited faces of her girls.
“What is it like? Does it look like us? Are we pretty?” The girls were bouncing with excitement, jostling their aunt.
Frances tilted her head to one side. “Well, I have to say, sadly, he’s made you all look cross-eyed.”
Mouths fell open, shrieks were forming, and Mr Whistler looked momentarily stunned before he threw back his head and laughed heartily. The sound made colour rise to Frances’ cheeks and her lips twitch. She wasn’t normally one for witty quips in company, she was too worried they may fall flat, but Mr Whistler seemed like the sort of person with whom one could joke, and it came easily to her. Seeing him respond so genuinely was, well, rather intoxicating and she couldn’t help but join in the hilarity as the girls realised she was teasing and fell about laughing too.
Lizzie and the girls swarmed towards him but when they saw the picture, they all cooed at how lovely it was and what an excellent likeness he’d found. Even Lizzie who was often difficult to impress.
Mr Whistler closed his sketchbook, and the girls disappeared, towing Lizzie with them in search of Freddie to tell them about having their likeness captured.
“You have made a startling impression on my family, Mr Whistler,” Frances said to him when they were alone. He pushed his pencil behind his ear to join the other that resided there. “The children have had a lovely day. Thank you for your kindness with them.”
“It’s my pleasure. They are charming children.” He tapped the sketchbook a couple of times and a silence fell between them.
“Your husband has asked me to do a full-length portrait of you.”
“I am aware.”
He nodded and, for a moment, looked unsure. “Are you happy with that?”
“Of course.”
Mr Whistler searched her features.
“Very well.” He nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw. “I shall continue sketching the house and the family as requested, paint Mr Leyland’s portrait, and then I can focus on you. Besides, I’ve started a portrait of my mother that I need to finish.”
That made Frances smile. “You have?”
“More a study in shades of grey and black than a portrait of her, but she’s a good subject. I think she will carry it well.” He looked at her for a moment. “I think you’d like her.”
“Your mother?” she asked, surprised it was the second time he’d mentioned them getting along.
He nodded.
“Then next time you come, bring her with you.”
