Page 18 of Married to a Wicked Duke
Carla laughed. “No. I do not suppose I shall. At least no one will accuse me of favoritism when I announce my own grandson as the winner. Even a blind man could see this is the best painting.”
Pippa stood, placing the dog on the floor at her feet. He scampered over to the easels with his nose to the ground. She stood close to Veronica and Frederick’s canvas, examining it closely.
“Veronica’s work is beautiful,” Carla said. “It reminds me a little of my daughter-in-law’s.”
Pippa put a soft hand out, squeezing her friend’s elbow. “She and Frederick work well together. Not that I ever thought it would be otherwise.”
Carla smiled to herself. She had to admit she had not shared Pippa’s unwavering optimism. Bright and sunny though Veronica Caster was, Carla had worried that even she would struggle to break through Frederick’s cold exterior. But perhaps her concerns had been unfounded.
Because it was not just the painting that suggested the compatibility between Veronica and Frederick. It was that light she had seen a glimmer of behind her grandson’s eyes. A light she had not caught sight of in far too many years.
Carla clapped her hands together. “Well. Shall we fetch all our young artists and tell them of my decision?”
Ten minutes later, the guests were all gathered in the parlor, milling about inspecting each other’s paintings. While the bawdy piece earned a few laughs, it was Veronica and Frederick’s work that garnered the most attention.
“Is this yours, Lady Juliet?” gushed Lady Arabella, waving a bejeweled hand at the painting. “It’s simply wonderful.”
Lady Juliet gave her a stiff smile. “No, my dear. That’s not mine.”
“Oh? I thought it must have been, given how lovely it is. And which one is yours?”
Lady Juliet sniffed and turned away. “That’s of no matter.”
Carla smiled to herself. She glanced around the room for the painting’s actual artists. Veronica was hanging back with her grandmother and father, who had miraculously roused himself—or been forcefully roused, she guessed—for the occasion, while Frederick was…
Carla glanced around the room searching for her grandson. No doubt he had decided not to show himself yet again. Just as she was thinking about the stern lecture she planned to give him later, she caught sight of him at the back of the room. He stood leaning up against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, looking less than pleased to be here. Carla did not care. She was just thrilled he had decided to show up, without her having to hound him on the matter. These days, that was something of a miracle.
For the most part, Frederick kept his eyes down—a deliberate attempt, Carla was sure, to avoid catching the eye of any of his admirers who were flitting about the place like butterflies, trying to get his attention. But every now and then, he looked up and glanced in Lady Veronica’s direction.
Carla smiled to herself.How interesting.She looked across the room to catch Pippa’s eye.
Carla clapped her hands together to get everyone’s attention. After a moment, the chatter stopped, and all eyes turned toward her. “Thank you very much for coming, everyone,” she sang. “And thank you to all our young artists on thesefinepieces.” She smiled a little too broadly, hoping the statement had not come out sounding sarcastic. “But of course, there can only be one winner,” she reached into her pocket to produce the emerald earrings, “who will of course be gifted these.”
A murmur rippled through the guests.
Carla smiled inwardly. The earrings had belonged to her daughter-in-law, Frederick’s mother. She was more than a little pleased they would be going to Veronica Caster. Not that she had had any doubt that they would. Pippa had raved about her granddaughter’s artistic talent on more than one occasion. And it turned out she had not been exaggerating.
“The winners,” Carla said grandly, “are the artists who paintedthisfine piece.” She swept a hand out, indicating Frederick and Veronica’s artwork. “Will the artists please come forward?”
The guests began to look around curiously, waiting to see who would step to the front of the room. For a moment, neither Frederick nor Veronica moved. Then finally, he took a step forward.
“TheDuke,” Carla heard Lady Arabella whisper. “Ofcourseit was him. We should haveknown.”
Frederick looked across the room to find Veronica and gestured wordlessly for her to join him at the front of the parlor. Shyly, Veronica made her way forward.
The whispers in the room increased in volume. “TheEarl’sdaughter,” Carla heard someone whisper. “Ugh.” She reached out her hand, protectively tugging Lady Veronica to her side. “Congratulations to you both,” she said. She held the earrings out to Veronica. “You have earned these, my dear.”
Not just for the painting, but for making my grandson smile.
Veronica gave her a tiny smile. “Thank you, Your Grace.” She looked small and fragile, her shoulders hunched as though she were trying to disappear.
A shame that such a lovely young lady might be so lacking in confidence.
No doubt it had much to do with her father’s behavior and a lifetime of living in the shadow of the Earl of Volk’s reputation. Surely, she too had heard the whispers as she had made her way to the front of the room.
“You are most welcome, Lady Veronica, my dear.” Carla looked out over the gathering with a pointed look that dared anyone to challenge her decision. Lady Juliet had a sour look on her face but said nothing. Behind her, Lady Arabella continued to whisper with two of the other young ladies.
“Once again, I thank each and every one of you for making the long journey up to London,” Carla told her guests. “Tonight, we will mark the end of festivities with a fireworks display in the garden. I look forward to seeing you all then.”
