Page 38 of The Quiet Wife
She swallowed and maintained strict control of the smile that threatened. “Not mine?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The whole purpose of the room is to showcase my appreciation for art, not to show off the family. No, this will give everyone an understanding of the man I am.”
Frances tried to keep her expression neutral. God forbid he should show interest in his family, or place them above business or art. It would certainly show the man he was. She wasn’t surethatman was what he really ought to display.
“It will be… magnificent.” She felt a grandiose statement was needed.
“It will. I feel blue walls will give it a sense of richness and splendour, and I want a lot of gold as a highlight. It will show off the blue in the porcelain. Jeckyll is starting on it tomorrow.”
Frances nodded. “Good, good. I shall be interested to hear what he says. Is Mr Jeckyll an artist?”
“An architect. I’ve asked Whistler to come and look as well. I’d appreciate his views. He has a good eye.”
“He does indeed,” Frances concurred.
Frederick droned on about wall hangings he’d bought at huge expense as Frances tried to imagine what the room would look like. She shook her head. Much as she loved Jemie’s paintings, she would have liked to see one of Mr Turner’s dramatic landscapes on the wall, but she apparently lacked the eye for such things and decided her thoughts were best left to herself.
CHAPTER 14
London - Kensington
Jemie arrived at 23 Queen’s Gate Kensington at the appointed time, having received what could only be described as a summons from Leyland requesting his presence. His last meeting with Frances had been… intense, which he hadn’t intended. A combination of anger over Leyland’s treatment of his son and worry for Frances meant that he’d become quite overwhelmed and thoughts he would normally keep to himself erupted. But, as he was discovering, Mrs Frances Leyland often pushed him beyond what he might normally do. Largely, because he wanted to see her feel. To see some passion behind that quiet, polite mask she showed the world. He didn’t want to think about why that was so important to him. Well, he’d had a peep beneath the facade, and she’d ended up in his arms. A shiver rippled down his spine at the memory of the feel of her slight frame, the scent of her hair… of her.
He took a deep breath before lifting the heavy knocker and the butler promptly opened the door to let him in, showing him to the drawing room, where he shook off a cowardly sense of relief that she wasn’t there. Moments later, Leyland strode into the room, hand outstretched.
“Whistler, glad you could make it. I’d appreciate your thoughts on something.” He gestured to the door without preamble or even the offer of a drink.
Jemie supressed a smirk at the man’s total lack of manners. “Lead on.”
Leyland guided him back out of the front door of the house.
Baffled, Jemie followed, walking quickly to keep up with the man’s loping stride.
“Where are we going?”
Leyland looked down at him from his superior height. “We are going to my new house at Prince’s Gate. I have plans for the hallway and the dining room. I want something spectacular. Something that people will talk about and admire for years to come.”
Jemie stared blankly at him.
“I’ve had Shaw working on the place. There is still work to do, but I want it done for next spring. When the season starts, I want to welcome people to Prince’s Gate in grand style. I want to discuss with you my thoughts about the hallway, and for you to look over Jeckyll’s plans for the dining room.” Jemie waited for him to draw breath, surprised to see Frederick so animated about something other than business.
“I’d be happy to,” he tried not to wonder why he’d asked Jeckyll to undertake the dining room and not him. Even so, it was a substantial project and alongside the portraits had the potential to make him a lot of money, to say nothing of the significant lift to his reputation.
They walked in silence the rest of the way, until they arrived at the admittedly impressive door which opened on his approach. Jemie stepped into a grand hallway. Jemie surveyed the open space and whistled at its opulence.
“Impressive.”
Leyland hooked his thumbs into his waistcoat and looked around too with an air of self-satisfaction. “I know. The staircase came from the home of the Duke of Northumberland.”
Jemie turned around and exclaimed more fulsomely as his host was clearly awaiting more of a reaction.
“I want you to decorate it.”
Jemie examined the vast expanse with rather more interest at his words.
“Decorate?” He wanted a decorator?
“Well, design something fabulous for it. For the panels on the staircase, I mean.”
