Page 6 of The Widow's Scandalous Gentleman
“Controversial in what way, if I might inquire?” Lord Jasper asked, settling into one of the chairs that Kit had arranged with the sort of relaxed attention that encouraged confidential discourse. “For I have found that the most memorable artistic works are often those that challenge audiences to consider perspectives they might otherwise avoid.”
Thalia observed this exchange with amazement, for she had never witnessed a gentleman of Lord Jasper’s obvious standing display such genuine interest in the struggles and achievements of individuals whose social position would typically render them invisible to his notice. His questions revealed not only curiosity but also a sophisticated understanding of the challenges faced by artists attempting to pursue unusual themes and approaches.
“My most recent play examines the consequences of rigid social expectations upon individuals whose natures do not conform to accepted patterns,” Kit explained with increasing confidence as he recognised the sincerity of his questioner’s interest. “I have attempted to explore the ways in which society’s intolerance for difference can destroy lives and waste talents that might otherwise contribute significantly to the betterment of human understanding.”
“A worthy theme indeed,” Lord Jasper replied thoughtfully, “and one that requires considerable courage to address through dramatic presentation, for audiences often prefer entertainment that confirms their existing beliefs rather than challenging them to examine their prejudices and assumptions.”
The understanding evident in his response brought a look of such grateful surprise to Kit’s face that Thalia felt her own opinion of her unexpected guest undergoing yet another revision, for she had never encountered a gentleman who demonstrated such capacity for empathy with those whose circumstances differed dramatically from his own privileged experience.
Their final stop on the impromptu tour was the music room, where they found Miss Violet Ashworth seated at the pianoforte, her fingers moving across the keys with the sort of practised ease that spoke of years of professional training and performance. The former opera singer looked up at their approach with the sort of regal bearing that had once commanded attention on London’s most prestigious stages, though the lines around her eyes and the slight hoarseness in her speaking voice testified to the passage of time and the inevitable changes it had wrought upon her once-celebrated instrument.
“Miss Ashworth,” Thalia announced as they entered the elegantly appointed room, “I should like you to meet Lord Jasper Vexley, who has expressed considerable interest in learning about the artistic community we have established here at Seacliff Retreat.”
“Lord Jasper,” Violet replied with a curtsy that managed to convey both respect for his rank and awareness of her own former status as a celebrated performer, “I am honoured to make your acquaintance, though I confess I am curious about what brings a gentleman of your obvious consequence to our humble establishment.”
“The opportunity to witness firsthand the sort of artistic sanctuary that Lady Greaves has created,” Lord Jasper replied with obvious sincerity, “for I have heard remarkable things about the talents and achievements of the residents who have found refuge and encouragement within these walls.”
“You are most kind to express such interest,” Violet said with the sort of practised grace that had served her well during her years in the public eye, “though I fear my own contributions to our little community are somewhat diminished from what they once were during my performing days.”
“Perhaps you might honour us with a brief demonstration of your current abilities,” Lord Jasper suggested with the sort of courteous enthusiasm that managed to be encouraging without seeming condescending, “for I suspect that your experience and training continue to provide considerable value to those fortunate enough to learn from your instruction.”
Violet’s eyes brightened at his request, and she turned back to the pianoforte with obvious pleasure, her fingers finding the opening chords of an aria that had once brought audiences to their feet in appreciation. Though her voice no longer possessed the power and range that had made her famous, the emotion and technique that had marked her greatest performances remained evident in every phrase, creating a moment of such beauty that even Thalia found herself moved despite her familiarity with Violet’s abilities.
“Magnificent,” Lord Jasper murmured when the song concluded, his voice carrying genuine appreciation that brought a flush of pleasure to the former singer’s still-handsome features. “Your technical command is extraordinary, and the emotional depth of your interpretation suggests that time has enriched—rather than diminished—your artistry.”
“You are most generous, my lord,” Violet replied, a modest smile playing at her lips, though her quiet pleasure was unmistakable. “Yet I take greater satisfaction these days in passing on what knowledge I can to younger artists—lessons drawn from both triumph and adversity, which I trust may serve them well.”
As they made their way back toward the main part of the house, Thalia found herself struggling to reconcile her increasing appreciation for Lord Jasper’s sensitivity and understanding with her continuing suspicion regarding his family’s true intentions concerning her establishment.
His genuine interest in her residents and their individual circumstances seemed to contradict the calculating assessment she had expected from someone conducting business on behalf of others, yet she could not entirely dismiss thepossibility that such sympathy was merely a more refined kind of manipulation, polished and persuasive, designed to lower her guard.
“I confess myself impressed by all I have seen during our tour,” Lord Jasper said as they came to a pause in the entrance hall, his gaze lingering on the restored decorations that bore only minimal evidence of yesterday’s regrettable encounter with his person and the Chinese vases. “The quality of artistic work being produced here rivals anything I have observed in London’s most fashionable studios—and the sense of community and mutual support among your residents is a testament to your judgement in creating a space not only of industry, but of trust.”
“You seem surprised by what you have found,” Thalia observed, studying his expression for any hint of the reservations or criticisms she had learned to expect from visitors who arrived with preconceived notions about artistic communities and their supposedly irregular arrangements.
“I confess I am,” he replied, with a candour that caught her off guard. “I expected something quite different—something far less purposeful, far less carefully managed. What I have seen compels me to reconsider a number of assumptions I had formed about the viability—and propriety—of such unconventional households.”
“What manner of assumptions, if I might inquire?” Thalia asked, though she suspected she could predict the nature of his previous expectations based on her experience with other visitors who had arrived bearing similar prejudices and misconceptions.
“I had been led to believe,” Lord Jasper admitted, his tone tinged with self-reproach, “that such communities were often prone to disorder and moral laxity—that their residents were more inclined toward philosophical indulgence than meaningful work. Instead, I find individuals of real talent and commitment, guided by a lady whose administrative acumen and moral authority would be impressive in any setting—conventional or otherwise.”
His words struck her with unexpected force. She was so accustomed to defending her choices against criticism, suspicion, and polite dismissal that such wholehearted approval felt almost disorienting. It left her wondering whether his change of heart was sincere—or whether he simply possessed a talent for persuasion that exceeded even her well-honed defences.
“I am gratified that your observations have led you to revise your impressions,” she replied, her tone carefully neutral. “Though I confess I must ask how those revised impressions may affect the report you intend to submit to your family—given their business interests in this area.”
The question hung between them like a sword suspended by a thread, and she watched his expression closely for any sign that might reveal his true intentions or the extent of his family’s plans regarding establishments such as hers.
“That,” Lord Jasper said at last, his voice low and steady, “is a matter I shall have to consider very carefully. I find myself in the rather uncomfortable position of having undertaken obligations that may no longer align with my personal convictions—at least, not in the way I had once believed they would best serve the interests of all parties concerned.”
Before Thalia could pursue his cryptic reply, the sound of an approaching carriage turned both their gazes toward the windows. Her heart sank as she recognised the familiar equipage that signalled her brother’s long-dreaded arrival—at precisely the moment when her circumstances were already complicated by the presence of a guest whose true motives remained uncertain, despite his apparent sympathy for her endeavours.
“It would appear,” she said, her tone touched with resignation, “that the day is about to grow considerably more difficult. My brother has never been noted for his patience with explanations—or his tolerance for what he deems unnecessary complications to family business.”
“Then perhaps,” Lord Jasper replied, his smile tinged with both mischief and resolve, “it is fortunate that I have had the opportunity to observe your establishment firsthand and form my own conclusions. I suspect your brother’s visit may benefit from the testimony of an impartial witness—one who can attest to the excellent order and moral propriety of your household.”
As the carriage drew to a halt and a gentleman of evident consequence prepared to descend, his bearing marked by the ease of one accustomed to unquestioned obedience, Thalia found herself torn between dread and a fragile, unwelcome flicker of hope. Whether Lord Jasper’s offer would prove a salvation she had not dared to expect—or simply another entanglement in an already fraught day—remained to be seen.
Chapter Three
