Page 25 of The Quiet Wife
“I think Mr Whistler will need to concentrate on papa to paint him. He won’t want us all watching,” she intervened in an attempt to avert a crisis.
“We watched him sketching, and he didn’t mind,” she grumbled.
Fannie nudged her little sister sharply and gave her a warning look not to speak out of turn.
“That’s enough,” Frederick snapped. “There will be no watching the painting. Wait until it’s finished, then you can see it.”
The disappointment on the children’s faces was evident. There had been so much excitement about the sketching they’d hoped that the fun would continue when the painting commenced.
Frederick, clearly feeling pressured, took his leave and left to meet with Mr Whistler.
“I don’t see why we can’t look,” grumbled Elinor as Frances led them away.
“Because papa said so.” She thought swiftly about some kind of compromise that hopefully wouldn’t enrage Frederick if he found out. “But,” she pressed a finger against her lips, “If you are allterriblygood, and don’t argue about it, we might have the occasional peep to see how it is progressing. But we must wait when Mr Whistler isn’tactuallypainting, and papa is at work.”
Conspiratorial grins broke out on all faces and Frances felt a pang of guilt at overriding her husband’s edict, but what harm could it do? “Besides, Mr Whistler is doing some sketches of me. Perhaps you could be in those and watch?” she suggested, a part of her not exactly eager to be alone with him.
Mollified, they hurried off to the nursery, whispering to each other as they went, clearly plotting. She smiled as she watched them go. Curiosity almost got the better of her as she stared at the closed door behind which her husband was being immortalised in oils. She hesitated but thought better of it, not wanting to antagonise her husband unnecessarily.
CHAPTER 10
Speke Hall – Liverpool
The children wore Frances down in the space of a fortnight. Frederick was at the offices while Mr Whistler had gone for a walk with Lizzie, Alastair, and Mr Carlisle, who were visiting for luncheon, so they had the house to themselves.
“Absolutely no touching,” Frances admonished them as she ushered the children into the room and quickly pushed the door to. They all came to a halt in front of the large canvas upon which her husband appeared to be emerging out of nowhere.
“Oh my,” Freddie whispered. Frances was inclined to agree. The girls just stared, open-mouthed.
“It’s very big,” Fannie observed.
“He looks very gloomy,” Freddie said. “Like he’s just given us a royal ticking off. Just like he’d look if he knew we were looking at his portrait.”
Elinor sniggered as she moved closer. Frances placed a warning hand on her shoulder.
“Remember, it’s nowhere near finished,” she reminded them, not taking her eyes from the likeness of her husband. It really was remarkable.
“It looks like he’s stolen a bit of papa and put it into the painting,” Elinor said.
“I think that may be the best compliment I’ve ever been paid.” A familiar voice from the door made them all jump guiltily at being caught sneaking a look. Frances couldn’t help the shocked gasp that escaped her, and she gathered the children protectively about her.
“I amsosorry, we… the children… we…”
“Please,” Mr Whistler held his hand up. “There really is no need to apologise. I don’t mind you having a peep.” He smiled down at the children, then patted Freddie on the arm. “Well, what do you think of it so far?”
“I think you are very clever, Mr Whistler,” Elinor told him.
Mr Whistler bowed low. “I am honoured that you should think so.”
“When are you going to start mama’s painting?” Freddie asked.
“Why don’t you do us?” Fannie offered.
Mr Whistler shrugged his shoulders and laughed. “I’ll start mama in a little while, and I’ll try to fit in some sketches of you soon. Remember, I must paint my mama too. Perhaps we should arrange another picnic before long and do some more painting practice together?”
The suggestion was met with a veritable barrage of excitement. She started shepherding them all out of the room. The girls scurried away, talking excitedly with Freddie.
Mr Whistler turned to her with his smile still in place. “The reason I came in search of you was to let you know that I’ve had a letter from my mother. Unfortunately, it was delayed in the post, and it looks very much like she will be with us tomorrow. I hope that’s not too much of an inconvenience.” She couldn’t help but notice how his eyes appeared particularly blue today.
