Page 50 of The Legend of the Betrayed Duchess
Miss Priscilla interrupted the sisters’ discussion about cider making by asking, “Does your brother, George, join you for tea? I had hoped we might continue our discussions from the night of the ball.”
“Rarely,” Charlotte replied, “He is usually holed up in his studio painting. And we are lucky if we even see him at supper. He tends to be rather solitary.”
“Oh, if he is in his studio, might I go visit him? I have seen his paintings in London, and he promised I might see what he is working on these days.”
Charlotte and Ann looked at each other. They had no idea what the proper protocol might be for escorting Miss Priscilla to see their brother. In any case, neither offered to take her.
Priscilla turned to her brother. “Beaumont, my dearest, would you like to go with me to see Mr. George’s paintings?”
“Not my cup of tea generally, but if it pleases you, I should be happy to accompany you.”
He stood up and offered his hand to his sister. “Ladies, if you will excuse us, and tell us how we might find this studio?”
Ann and Charlotte were startled by this turn and did not immediately respond.
The Duchess, catching on to the situation and not wanting to disturb the conversation between Beaumont and her daughters, said, “Miss Priscilla, let me call someone to take you to the studio. There is no need for you, Mr. Goodwin, to disturb yourself since you are so pleasantly engaged in a conversation.”
The Duchess rang the little bell that was on the table beside her and Lucy shortly appeared.
“Your Grace?” she said standing at the door. “How may I help you?”
Beaumont caught his breath when he saw Lucy and smiled.
“Might you escort Miss Priscilla to George’s studio?” She wishes to view his paintings. And while you are at it, tell him we have guests, and he should come in for tea.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Lucy said and turned to look at Priscilla. “Miss, if you will follow me…”
Beaumont then said, “I think I should like to go along as well. Our dining room is a bit barren. Might be just the thing to buy a painting for above the fireplace if it would suit you, Sister.”
It was then the Duchess recognized her mistake in calling for Lucy. Mr. Goodwin clearly found Lucy to be superior to her daughters. She panicked, but there was nothing that could be done. Pandora had opened her box.
Lucy led the way through the house, out a door from the library, and headed toward the stable.
“His studio is out here?” Miss Priscilla asked. “I thought it would be high in the house. With velvet drapes, floor to ceiling windows and a day bed for the hard-working artist to repose after an exhausting night of painting.”
Beaumont laughed. “Sister, I believe you read too many romantic novels.”
“Do not be mean to me,” she protested.
Beaumont could not take his eyes off Lucy. “Finally,” he said, “I am Beaumont Goodwin and this is my sister Priscilla. I saw you the night of the ball—but only briefly. Why were you not dancing? I most certainly would have asked you to dance with me.”
Lucy turned to look at him. She studied him for a moment before responding. “I was not invited,” was all she would say.
“Oh, and why not? A lovely creature like you would have captured all the gentlemen’s hearts, and you could have danced all evening.”
“I am not of the gentry,” she said tersely.
“And why would that matter? Great beauty surpasses all class barriers.”
Lucy gave him a look that seemed to say—walk in my shoes and find out.
They had arrived at the stables, and Lucy took them up to the studio. “Wait one moment, please, and let me see if he can see you.”
She knocked and went inside, leaving the brother and sister outside. George did not seem to be painting at the moment.
“George, we have some guests who want to see the studio, and they might be interested in purchasing a painting. Is it all right if I bring them in?”
He gave Lucy a smile. “Let them come. I will be happy to show what I have.”
