Page 101 of The Earl's Reluctant Artist
For a moment, Howard said nothing. Then he stepped closer and bowed his head. “It would please me greatly. I shall treasure it.”
Eliza’s cheeks turned pink. She moved toward a smaller canvas resting against the wall. A quiet landscape … the inn, its sign just visible, the fields beyond. She lifted it carefully and held it out.
Howard accepted it with both hands. “Thank you, Lady Vale. This is more than a gift. It is a reminder that Evermere’s spirit lives on in good hands.”
The duke smiled faintly, though his eyes drifted toward Tristan. “Yes,” he said. “Very good hands.”
Tristan felt the weight of that look. He gave the smallest nod in return.
“Your Grace, where do you think this would fit in my house? I am thinking I could put it on a wall in the drawing room.”
A sly smile crossed the duke’s face. “And that is if Evelyn lets you.”
Lord Howard turned to Eliza, the smile on his face clear. “That is also true.”
Tristan laughed, and soon, the conversation shifted. Lord Howard mentioned the lords, the murmurs of discontent, and the way they needed to make sure Marcus’s plans did not succeed.
At the mention of Marcus, Tristan had turned to Eliza. He noticed how stiff she had gotten and how her fingers hadbrushed over the edge of a chair. He noticed how the guilt crept into her posture and saw how her eyes flickered down as though she was the one to blame for all of this in the first place.
The feeling that had unsettled him back in the drawing room came again, except a bit stronger.
No, this couldn’t be just pride.
Lord Howard’s words carried on in the background, but Tristan barely heard them. He watched Eliza instead.
He wanted to speak, to cut across the room and tell her she was not guilty, that Marcus’s schemes were his alone. He wanted to shield her from even the hint of that shadow. Instead, he remained still, though the vow burned in his chest.
I will not let Mr. Harwood ruin her. I will not let anyone harm her.
He had done enough already, and she had carried enough blame. He was wise enough to know that from here forward, whatever happened next would be on him and him alone. The determination in him continued to rise with each passing second.
Whatever comes tomorrow, she will not stand alone.
The duke leaned on his cane. “We must let Lady Vale rest. She has given us more than we deserve today.”
Howard raised his head. “Indeed. And she has given me something I shall never forget.” He glanced at Eliza one last time, his eyes warm. “You honor your house, my lady. And you honor your husband.”
Eliza’s lips parted, and she dipped her head again. Tristan could see it clearly from where he was standing. She was completely unable to form words.
“We shall be right behind you as well,” he eventually said, stepping forward and placing a hand gently at her back as he guided her toward the door. He could feel the tension in her and the way her body seemed to hold everything just a bit too tightly.
He wanted to tell her right there, in front of them all, that she was enough. That she was more than enough. But the words caught in his throat, as well. It felt almost like his mouth wouldn’t cooperate with his mind, no matter how hard he tried.
They all returned just the way they had come back to the drawing room. On the way back, Lord Howard had given the painting to one of the maids to give to Evelyn so they could take it home.
Eventually, they stepped in once again.
Tristan closed the door behind them and motioned for Eliza and his grandfather to sit. Lord Howard remained standing by the mantel, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes thoughtful but sharp.
Tristan remained standing as well, the pressure in his chest making it impossible to rest.
“So,” Lord Howard said, turning to him. “About this Mr. Harwood. Do you have a plan?”
“We cannot waste time,” Tristan responded, his voice firmer than he felt. “Tomorrow, Mr. Harwood plans to gather the lords. He will speak with confidence, and many will follow him blindly. If I walk in with only doubt and suspicion, he will find a way to sweep us aside. We need more than words. We need proof.”
The duke studied him calmly, but Tristan saw the flicker of approval in his eyes. “Go on.”
“I saw enough on my walk with Kale to know the cost,” Tristan continued. “But what we carry is not enough to stop him. We must strike with evidence, something no one can ignore.”
