Page 119 of Ironvine

Georgina brought her to the large table where she had her work laid out, ready to be seen. Drawings and watercolours of the estate, the castle, and a number of studies of Charles’s face.

“You are quite talented, Georgina. You use simple lines yet you’ve managed to articulate Ryvves’s personality, a fleeting emotion. Remarkable.”

“Thank you.”

“Your parents fostered this talent of yours? Surely you’ve had a tutor?”

“My father had arranged for a painter friend of his to teach me for some time. But after Father died unexpectedly, the lessons stopped.”

“What a shame.”

“Much to my mother’s distress, that did not make me stop. I could never imagine myself not drawing, not painting.”

“It’s much more than a pastime to you.”

“Much more. I need to do it. It’s a part of me.” Georgina’s face heated. She had only had such a conversation about her work before with Charles. Her Grace had honed right in on her desire. Being able to speak the truth, to not dissemble for fear of censure, was now a thing of the past in her new life.

Her Grace poured over the various drawings of Charles. “I could never sketch the human form properly. I found it so frustrating. Flowers, leaves, fruits, yes, but a face?” Her gaze lifted to Georgina. “Heaven forfend—a figure?” The grin on her face froze suddenly, and Georgina very well knew why.

She’d seen the painting of Hugh which stood behind Georgina, propped up against the wall on the floor.

The Duchess’s posture stiffened as her gaze riveted on the oil study of Hugh. “Is this painting yours?” Her voice had cooled.

“No. It is an unfinished portrait of Hugh, recently done. I found it amongst his things. The likeness is quite good, is it not?”

“Is this why you invited me here?” Her icy tone stopped Georgina’s heart. “What is it you want of me?”

Georgina’s pulse thudded in her neck. “I too know loss, Your Grace. My beloved father was taken from me much too soon, and I have but one small likeness of him and many of his letters. They are precious to me. Would you like to see the painting?”

The Duchess only nodded and was perfectly still as Georgina placed the canvas against the table on the floor where it caught the sunlight. Hugh’s brown eyes and his dark blond hair glowed in the light. The blue coat he wore was a rich hue of cobalt that faded where the painter had smudged the edges, the painting incomplete. Incomplete forever.

The Duchess’s face softened immediately, and then just as suddenly, that softness was gone, replaced by stiff lines. A mask.

Georgina cleared her dry throat. “This is a preliminary study the artist made in preparation for painting Hugh’s portrait. I recently uncovered it here at the house along with keepsakes amongst Hugh’s possessions.”

The Duchess said nothing, her gaze pinned on the painting.

Georgina continued, “If I may be so bold, Your Grace, I would like to give you those things that are not even mine to give. They are yours and his.”

The Duchess turned to her, her face stony, and a cold knife plunged into Georgina’s chest. Had she taken it as an insult that Georgina had taken the liberty to speak to her outright about Hugh? Charles was right, she should have kept her mouth shut. His words of warning flared through her.“Stay away from her.”

Georgina took in a breath.“I must see this through,”she thought to herself as she went to the old trunk and took out the casket. Placing it on the table before the Duchess, she opened it. The Duchess betrayed no emotion as she took in the many bound letters.

“I do not mean to offend,” said Georgina. “I wanted to return these to you. You should have them. If you want them, of course.”

“You were to marry him, and here you are offering me—”

“Truly, there was no affection between us. I barely knew him. The marriage was one of true convenience and perfect timing benefiting us both. For different reasons, of course.”

“I know what his reasons were. May I ask, what were yours?”

“My family had decided to marry me to a friend of theirs, a much older man, to solidify their financial and political bond with him, and he wanted a young wife to bear him more children. In the course of an evening, at that ball where Your Grace and I met in London, I learnt I was to be used for a transaction of status, breeding, and business.”

“That is what we women are bred for, Georgina. It is only natural that you felt betrayed and maybe even chained, for your feelings, your entire life were suddenly of no matter to those closest to you, those you’d always trusted had your best interests at heart.”

She blinked. “Yes. Exactly. You seem to know of such things.”

“I do,” she said plainly, not betraying any emotion. But in the sudden purse of her lips, Georgina was sure underneath lay an unsettling story. “So you acted extremely quickly to counter their actions. How did you cross paths with the Earl in London?”

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