Lord Billington smiled a little, glancing away for a moment. She blushed, smiling sheepishly as she realized what he was thinking.
“I should have guessed that one,” he said. “I enjoy watching them paint here, as well. I regret they aren’t here more often.”
Martha nodded.
“I imagine it takes them some time to finish their paintings,” she said. “Then, when they finally have finished, they bring them to sell.”
Rachel nodded, grinning.
“I remember I wanted desperately to buy one a young man was working on once,” she said. “He said he was happy to sell it to me, but that it would take him about three weeks to complete. I offered him the money upfront, but he wouldn’t hear of it. But three weeks later, we returned, and he had the painting, set aside and marked, just for me.”
Martha smiled softly. She did admire the people who painted at the park. And she had often wondered how it would feel to sell a painting of her own. But she had never worked up the courage to try, despite all her family’s encouragement. Still, she couldn’t help imagining what that would be like.
Neil mimicked juggling, even pretending to concentrate really hard, which made Lord Billington laugh. Martha’s stomach fluttered. She could never get used to how handsome the viscount was when he smiled. She hadn’t seen him look so happy as he did there with his friends. He seemed much more relaxed with them, as well. It was easy for Martha to understand why. They were very kind and hospitable, and witty and fun, as well.
“Henry and I love the jugglers,” he said. “And the pantomimers, as well.”
Henry’s face lit up and he nodded.
“It’s so much fun to watch them act out things and then try to guess them,” he said. “One time, I guessed it was a dog scratching its ear, and I was right.”
Martha looked at the boy with amazement.
“That’s very impressive,” she said. The whole Smith family was incredibly easy to love. But she was sure that the young boy was her favorite.
The boy’s eyes lit up, and he pointed from his mother to Martha.
“They were talking about painters,” he said. “One day, I might like to paint something there, too.”
Martha looked at him with wonder.
“You like to paint?” she asked.
The boy shook his head, much to her surprise.
“No,” he said. “But if you like paintings, I would get them to help me paint something.”
Martha blushed. She didn’t understand why the boy was being so sweet to her. But she was finding that she adored him more with every minute.
Lord Billington turned to Mr. and Mrs. Smith with a grin.
“I almost forgot,” he said. “Miss Elwood is an incredible painter. She had a talent the likes of which I’ve never seen.”
Mr. and Mrs. Smith looked in their direction again. Mr. Smith looked at Lord Billington, for which Martha was glad. Rachel was looking at her as though for confirmation, and all she could do was nod sheepishly.
“Do you have any of it on display anywhere?” Mr. Smith asked.
Martha shook her head, feeling very bashful.
“No,” she said. “I’ve never sold any or displayed any publicly. My parents hang them up in our home when I finish a painting.”
The Smith’s exchanged looks of approval. Then, Rachel gave her a hopeful smile.
“I would dearly love to see some of your paintings,” she said.
Martha’s flushed deepened, but she smiled at the kind, warm attention she was getting.
“I will arrange for us to have tea soon,” she said softly. She had never had anyone outside of her family request to see her artwork, though she had had a few of her family’s guests admire it. It was a strange, but delightful, feeling, and she couldn’t help smiling shyly at Lord Billington.
