Page 46 of The Uprising
‘Thanks, Rose. I’ll pour,’ said Cara. ‘Are you not visiting your family today?’
‘If that’s still all right, my lady, I’ll be leaving soon.’
‘That’s perfectly all right. Have fun and please give your mother my warm regards.’
George and Cara kept things as informal with their staff as the etiquette of the era permitted. George loved that about Cara; she knew nothing of their modern life, but she treated the servants respectfully. He occasionally wondered whether her consciousness was more connected to the future than they realised.
When the door closed, Cara handed George a cup of tea and a slice of cake, and said, ‘Here, try this. It’s Cook’s latest creation and is all the rage at the palace, apparently. Imagine having a cake named after you.’
‘Victoria sponge, how marvellous. I hadn’t realised.’
‘Realised what?’ said Cara.
George sipped his steaming tea and took a huge bite of cake. A dollop of raspberry jam and cream slid out from between the moist cake layers and plopped onto his trouser leg.
‘Hadn’t realised how good it would be,’ he said, covering his slip-up. ‘Damn it, bloody delicious, though. I must say, it’s worth the terrible mess I’m making of it.’
His lives blurred, and he found it difficult not to reveal more than he should about the future. He didn’t want to arouse Cara’s suspicions—things were difficult enough.
‘Was your trip to Chelsea a success?’ She had composed herself, but her cheeks were still pink and puffy.
‘Indeed, it was. I located Turner at the address the fellow at my club gave me, and it was a perfectly lovely visit.’
‘I hear he’s a strange one,’ she said. ‘A bit of a recluse.’
‘Yes, that may well be...but he paints like an angel. And that reminds me; I have a wonderful surprise for you.’
George slotted his cup back onto the tray, extracted his long legs, which were curled up beside the sofa, and raced out of the room. ‘Hang on,’ he shouted. ‘You’re going to love this!’
His joie de vivre was infectious—it was impossible to stay down for long when he was around. And besides, Cara loved surprise gifts.
I’m the luckiest woman in the world.
Even though she still experienced moments of intense sadness about the loss of their baby, her mood lifted when she was with George, and she believed things would work out as they were supposed to. If they weren’t destined to have children, then so be it if that was God’s will. She’d rather be childless with him than have a gaggle of children with someone else.
‘Close your eyes,’ he called out from the hallway.
‘Closed,’ she shouted.
‘No cheating.’
She giggled. ‘They are closed tight. Come on! Whatever is it?’
George removed the painting from its covering and lay it down on the table.
‘Open your eyes, my darling.’
Cara gasped. ‘The colours are breath-taking,’ she said.
‘I present to youChelsea at Dawn. ‘Like it?’
‘Like it? I love it! It’s divine. I know little about Turner’s paintings,’ she said.
‘Me too. I noticed it when I was waiting for him and immediately fell in love with this beauty. Fortunately, he was quite happy to part with it. Says his best work is at his London gallery, and this is just the pottering about of an old man in Chelsea.’
‘My goodness. Well, if that’s the case, we are blessed indeed. Where shall we hang it?’
‘First we’ll need to organise a frame. How about here, or in our bedchamber?’
