Page 86 of The Quiet Wife
He appeared stricken. “Of course,” he whispered, put down his brush and left. The door closed behind him with a quiet click.
***
Jemie scowled at his paints as he waited for Frances to arrive for her sitting, the first since he’d told her about Charlie. He moved them about, fiddled with his brushes, and then sat with a sigh, hands flopped on his thighs. They had barely spoken since. She had been polite, charming, and as friendly as ever, but she now seemed much more guarded which upset him. A bond had developed between them after the incident with the scarlet fever but now it felt that a wall had risen between them and he missed her.
He closed his eyes. It wasn’t as though they could be together, there were too many things standing in the way, but he’d grown to value her company immensely. Her humour, her softness. Her kindness, and her wit. In short, he’d grown to need Frances. Even though she was still there, he missed her and how things had been between them because she balanced out something inside of him, and he’d thought he did the same for her.
When he thought of all he could lose it made him feel sick to his stomach. There was a possibility she would tell Leyland and he’d be thrown out, losing the commissions. But it was not that thought that haunted him. Losing his connection with Frances and the rest of the family, Lizzie, the children… it would be too much to bear. They had become part of his life, his world, so quickly.
But the thought that Frances couldn’t accept his son hurt him more than he could even say. That was not the Frances he thought he knew.
He took the cover from the portrait and studied it with a critical eye. It was progressing well, but what would happen when he finished it? He would no longer have an excuse to sit alone with her for hours at a time talking and laughing with her.
Frances came in alone, without Lizzie and closed the door behind her.
Instead of going to change behind her screen and assuming her position, she walked over to stand beside him and admired the painting.
“It’s lovely,” she murmured. “I look… pensive. As you said.”
Jemie’s heart was beating so fast he didn’t dare speak. He nodded and waited to see what she would say next.
“I owe you an apology,” she said after a little while. “I owe you a rather large apology.” She turned to him and took hold of his hand.
“Why?” he asked, mystified.
“You shared an important part of your life with me, and I reacted badly.”
He clutched at her fingers.
“Your son is important to you just as my son is important to me. His arrival into the world might be unusual, but he’s still your son and you love him.”
Jemie swallowed and tried to blink the moisture from his eyes. “He is and I do. Love him, that is.”
“Of course you do.” She lifted his hand and kissed the back of it. “Perhaps one day I could meet him?”
Jemie screwed his eyes shut and then pulled her to him. He kissed her on the forehead for a long moment before releasing her.
He brushed the wetness on his cheeks. “I would be proud and honoured to introduce him to you.” His voice wobbled, but he didn’t care. This was the Frances that he knew. The Frances who had stolen his heart. He hadn’t been wrong about her.
She smiled and wiped a thumb over his cheek. “I’m sure the girls would adore him.”
He nodded and cleared his throat. “A visit might include the need to go and see Jumbo the Elephant and an escaping Hippo.” He shrugged nonchalantly and as he’d hoped, she laughed. He kissed her fingers and laughed with her even though it was more than a little watery.
For the first time in too many days, he knew she truly cared.
CHAPTER 28
London – Kensington
Frances added the finishing touches to her toilette before going down to dinner. It was to be a large affair, but mainly friends and family, although some of Frederick’s closer colleagues from Bibby would join them.
She stood and twirled, pleased that the dark green suited her well. She felt more than a little nervous as Fannie and Florence were joining them for dinner, along with Freddie. Elinor was beside herself at being left out, but she was simply too young, and Frances didn’t want her over-exerting herself after her recent ill-health. She would pop up and see her over the course of the evening, and so would Lizzie and Edith to keep her company and share all the gossip.
Frederick opened the door, a scowl on his face. “Are you ready?”
She managed a smile as he checked her dress. “I am.”
“That will do,” he pronounced, his perfunctory inspection complete. “I need to see what the girls are wearing.” He ran a hand around the back of his neck, massaging it.
