The Muse (25 page)

“It will.  Where do I find you?”

“Graham will show you the way the first time.  I paint out of my home studio for indoor portraits.  Outdoor portraits require the outside, obviously, and he does have a suggestion for one of those as well.  So, tomorrow then, Lady Rothvale?” He tipped his head at her once again and then moved to pass and be on his way.

Imogene watched him go.  Tristan Mallerton was tall, over six feet without his boots.  He had dark, unruly hair and was quite thin.  His face was handsome in a tortured sort of way.  He wore a grimace-like expression as if he were concentrating very hard on something.  He was interesting, different, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt, that she had just met someone significant.

“I met your friend today, Mr. Mallerton,” Imogene announced over dinner.

“I know.”

Imogene looked at her husband inquisitively. “How?  And why didn’t you say?”

“I saw you meet him through the library windows and I didn’t say anything because I wanted you to make your own assessment of him.  I thought that if I introduced you, if I were present, you might feel obligated to like him more than you want to.  I don’t wish to force him on you, but what was your impression?  It’s been killing me not to ask.”

Imogene chose her words carefully.  “He is unconventional, I give you that, but he remained a gentleman in my presence.  His comments to me were a bit irreverent, but not insulting. I found him charming and amusing in a slightly demented kind of way.  I take it that you trust him completely?  He is not some monster who will terrorize me?”

“Absolutely not a monster.  He holds my complete trust.  You relieve me, Imogene.  He is gifted, and I know he will paint you beautifully, creating the kind of portrait I wish to have.  All gifted persons, no matter their talent, seem to have that touch of creative madness in them, as does he.  Not everyone can stomach him, and I would hate for you to dread his company, as you would have to spend a great deal of time in it.  Are you willing to give it a go,
chérie
?”

“Yes,” she said firmly.  “He wishes me to come to his studio tomorrow at one o’clock.  He said something about setting a schedule for the sittings.”

“The first meeting will be about arrangement and the setting.  You will discuss what is envisioned for the portrait, and he’ll organize everything and explain what he needs from you.”

“You will not come?  I am to go on my own?” she inquired anxiously.

Graham looked at her lovingly before placing his hand over hers and clasping it.  “I must be away tomorrow,” he said softly.  “Mr. Duncan and I must go to the eastern portion of the estate and I won’t be back in time to take you.  Ben will drive you, and await you. When the weather is fair you could even walk there if you are up to it.  And take the dog along for company if you wish.”

Imogene felt unsure as she absorbed his words.

“Oh,
chérie
, I love you so much.”  He caressed her hand on the table.  “It is for the best this way.  Many do not understand the creative process.  No artist could do his best work with others peering over his shoulders and distracting with questions or guarding the sitter.  I trust him utterly.  He is a professional.  His task is to paint your image, and he will best accomplish it if he is allowed to work in private with just you and him together—artist and subject.  You have nothing to fear from him.  All proprieties and discretion as to modesty will be observed.”

Graham squeezed her hand and nodded his head, seeking to reassure her.

“All right.  I understand then.  I will be fine,” she said.

“You are so valiant, remember?  I adore that about you.”  He searched her face as if he was looking for any sign of fear or anxiety.  “It will be glorious, and I can hardly wait until it is done.”

Dinner continued quietly for a time before Imogene recognized the sweet bread.  “Is this the bread we had at the inn?  Wasn’t it Mr. Jacobson’s?”

“I believe it is the same recipe,” he responded elusively.

“You got the recipe for us then, and gave it to Cook?”

“Not exactly.  I am sure he got the recipe initially from his mother,
Mrs
. Jacobson.”

Imogene was puzzled, but just for an instant before realization dawned on her.  “Cook!  Mrs. Jacobson is our cook and she is
his
mother?”  Imogene just stared at him and shook her head.  “You keep an inordinate amount of secrets, my husband.  You delight in teasing me with these things.  I daresay I shall not have even the slightest twinge of guilt about any secret I may ever contrive to keep against you, current or otherwise.  You are
very
naughty!”

He charmed her with a humble smile.  “I await my punishment with valor and leave it in your most capable hands,
chérie.”

“Humph,” she sniffed.  “How does Mr. Jacobson have an inn such as The Lion’s Crown?  He is young in years to be proprietor.”

“My father was fond of his comforts.  He liked a good meal, and he hated the fare served at coaching inns along the road.  He went back and forth to Town so often for Parliamentary votes that he quickly grew impatient with the poor meals and unclean beds.  So he acquired The Lion’s Crown, and figured if he owned it, the standard of service would be assured.”

Imogene was surprised.  “You own that inn?”

“We do, yes,
chérie
, and it is the only place our family has ever used since.  It is exactly midway between Gavandon and London.  Jacobson is a good man.  He grew up here and found cooking to be his talent.  Father was happy to set him there as proprietor, and it was a good choice too, for he has run the place profitably for about seven years now.  Word of The Lion’s quality and excellence has spread, proving it to be a successful venture.”

“Truly amazing is all I have to say about that,” she said in wonder.

IMOGENE and Zuly stood at the door of the stone house after having lifted the knocker.  She was surprised to have the door opened by Ben’s mother, Antonia.  “Lady Rothvale.  He awaits you in the studio.  Follow me?”

“Is this your place of work, Antonia?”

“Yes, my lady.  I am housekeeper for Mr. Mallerton during the days.”

“I had no idea.  I have much to learn about the workings of the estate as of yet.  Ah, Ben has driven me here today.”  Imogene looked at her respectfully.  “He is a good boy.”

Antonia’s face brightened before she gave a slight dip of her head.  “Thank you, my lady.”

Mr. Mallerton was waiting for her in the middle of a large, bright, nearly empty room.

“Will you allow my dog?” she asked him.

He inclined his head in a nod to indicate approval.

There was a great elegant chair in the middle of the floor and he indicated for her to sit.  He then stepped back to an easel set with a canvas prepared, sat on a stool and faced her.

Imogene had some thoughts about Mr. Mallerton right away and she felt she was dead on accurate, too.

He is only a trifle bit beastly, and I think it is all for show.

“NERVOUS?”

“Yes.”

“What are you nervous about?” he asked drily, thinking she would say something about the impropriety of being alone with him.  She surprised him instead.

“Of disappointing my husband.  He has high hopes of a successful, working relationship between us, Mr. Mallerton.  It is for him that I do this.”

That got his attention.
A fighter. 
He regarded her intently, his impression turning to one of respect for this young intelligent woman.  He saw the flicker of a smile creeping up one side of her mouth.

“Then we must make sure that we do not disappoint him, Lady Rothvale, as we share a common goal.”

Her response was to nod in agreement at him, and so they began.

He asked if she would turn to the left and then to the right.  He asked this several times of her, explaining that he was comparing her profiles to determine her best side.  Then he adjusted the height of the easel and took several measurements from the floor to the top of her head and then her shoulders.  While she sat, he marked the measurements right onto the canvas.

This done, he sat back down onto his stool and asked if Graham had discussed with her what he had in mind for this portrait.

She shook her head.  “He did not.”

“He indicated to me that he would like to have you in a formal gown, wearing an ensemble of pearls and emeralds.  Do you know of the set of jewels?”

“Yes.  There are a choker, earrings and a wrist cuff all matching.”

“Bring them next time when you come.  You will have to take them back and forth as I do not have a way to secure them here in this house.  I would also like you to bring a selection of gowns that you like and feel would complement the jewels.  On no account will I put a sitter in clothing they do not like.  It never works in the end.  We’ll be able to decide which gown suits the best.  Antonia will always be here when you come and can assist you with your wardrobe.  Now, for your hair.  I suggest you have it done for the first sitting in the way you would wear it for a formal occasion, so I can sketch out the general idea of it.  You will not have to have it done so ornately each time, until I get to painting that part.  When I get to that section of the portrait you will need to have your hair done up in the exact same fashion each time you come for a sitting, but I’ll let you know when you need to do that.”

She nodded in agreement to everything he’d said, but didn’t speak.

“Do you have any questions for me, Lady Rothvale?”

“How long will a sitting be, and how many sittings will you need for a portrait like this one?”

“A sitting is never longer than two hours, and for this image, I’d guess no more than ten sittings will serve adequately.  Now, tell me of your schedule.  Graham mentioned you have arranged to visit your sister some days.”

She gave him her free days and they both marked down the arranged dates and times in their appointment books.

“Ah, our business is concluded for this session.  I must compliment you on your nerves of steel.  You bore up very well under my onslaught. It bodes well for our future work together, milady.”  He gave her a grin.

“Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Mallerton, but please do not hold back anything on my account.  I would have your true demeanour.  I daresay I can handle the challenge, even of one so prickly as you.”  She smiled graciously, curtsying to him.  “Until Wednesday.  Goodbye now.”