“Ah, yes,” he said. “The butler said you’d be looking. Come. This way.”
She nodded, following the footman to a narrow storage closet that was empty, save for the very package she was seeking. The footman eased it out of the closet, turning to her and smiling.
“Are you ready for it, Lady Billington?” he asked.
Martha shivered and grinned at the use of her new title.
“I am,” she said. “Can you help me? I’d like to take it to the drawing room.”
The footman bowed gently, carefully holding the package.
“Lead the way, milady,” he said.
She smiled again, weaving through the halls until they reached the drawing room. She looked around, hoping to find what she sought without having to move too many things around. And there, just across from the small writing desk that was in the room, was just the space she needed.
“Right there,” she said triumphantly, pointing to the vacant space on the wall.
The footman grinned and nodded once more, carefully unwrapping the package to reveal the painting of the horse and the young boy Martha had done. She had worked hard to keep it hidden from Albert. Now, it was time to unveil her wedding gift to him. She stood back, anxiously watching as the footman climbed up the rolling ladder and situated the painting exactly where she had dictated.
The footman was just stepping down off the ladder when Albert entered the room. He grinned, looking puzzled as he noticed the footman hurrying away from the wall. It took him a minute to look up, but when he did, his mouth fell open. He stared up at the painting in silence for a moment, until Martha thought she would explode from the suspense.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Albert turned to her, his eyes filled with awe. Slowly, a smile spread across his face. He swept Martha up in his arms and held her tightly.
“I believe it’s your best one yet,” he said. Then, he pulled away. “There is one thing I have yet to tell you. And I regret not telling you sooner.”
Martha looked up at her husband, confused.
“What is it?” she asked. “You can talk to me about anything?”
Albert gazed fondly up at the new painting on the wall with a dreamy expression on his face.
“Do you remember when you asked me if I painted?” he asked.
Martha nodded.
“Yes,” she said.
Albert nodded.
“Well, that was true,” he said. “But what I didn’t tell you is that I enjoy sketching. It’s been some time since I’ve done it. But it was my favourite past time in the world.”
Martha’s face lit up.
“I knew it,” she said, leaping back into her husband’s arms. “Do you still have any of your old sketches?”
Albert shook his head sadly.
“No,” he said. “But you have inspired me to start sketching again. Especially with this amazing painting.”
Martha grinned, standing on her toes to kiss her husband.
“Well, then what are we waiting for?” she asked. “Let’s go oversee the unpacking of the studio.”
Is This The End?
