Page 114 of Winterset
It was no wonder that he’d initially been unimpressed by Winterset. The entire expanse of it could fit inside one wing of this house.
“Your home is lovely,” I said.
“Thank you,” Lord Jennings replied. “If you’ll briefly excuse me, I’ll go instruct Caldwell, our butler, to take your trunks to the ...” He looked at his wife in question.
“The lilac room,” Hannah supplied with a smile.
“The lilac room,” Lord Jennings repeated, and he kissed Hannah’s hand before parting.
Hannah watched him go with a look of love in her eyes, then turned back to me and Lady Winfield. “It’ll be a few minutes before your trunksare brought up. Would you like us to give you a quick tour while we wait?”
“I would love that.”
But before we even took one step, a woman appeared and curtsied in front of Hannah. “Pardon me for intruding, my lady, but you asked to be told when the girls awoke.”
“They’re awake already?” Hannah said, sounding surprised.
The woman nodded.
“Thank you, Betsy. I will be there as soon as I can.”
Betsy curtsied and left.
“Allow me?” Lady Winfield asked.
“That would be wonderful,” Hannah said. “Thank you.”
Lady Winfield walked away, leaving Hannah and me to our tour.
On the ground level, Hannah pointed out the study, which was thrice the size of Winterset’s; the dining hall, which boasted an impossibly long table; and a large ballroom, with a glittering chandelier in the center.
The most awe-inspiring room of all, though, was the gallery. From the vaulted glass ceiling that bathed the room in sunlight to the black-and-white marble checkered floor, I felt as though I’d stepped into one of the finest museums in all of England. The life-sized paintings of Lord Jennings’s ancestors—Oliver’sancestors—were so vivid and lifelike that they seemed to jump off the canvas. I’d never seen paintings so stunning. How had the artist managed it?
“Your collection is impressive,” I said.
“I think so too,” Hannah said. “But my husband dislikes this room. He thinks the paintings are too grim and gruesome.” Her gaze rose to a painting of a particularly bloody battle scene.
“Oh my.” I held a hand to my mouth. “The artist really managed to capture the brutality of battle, didn’t he?”
“Indeed he did.” She giggled. “I assure you that not all the paintings are so graphic, especially not the contemporary ones. Let me show you our family portraits.”
She led me to the opposite side of the gallery, and I marveled at the multitude of paintings.
“Here is Damon’s and my wedding portrait,” Hannah said proudly. “It was painted the same year we were married. Don’t tell anyone, but Iwas carrying my daughters at the time, and I very much looked it.” She smiled up at the portraits, clearly reliving a fond memory. “The girls’ portraits will be painted when they are a few years older. And behind you is Ollie’s portrait.”
I’d not considered that his likeness might be hanging here, but of course it would be. He was the second son of the late Lord Winfield and brother to the current. This was his family seat.
I sucked in a breath when I saw the full-length rendering of him.
“Do you think it looks like him?” Hannah asked.
“I do.” It was a near-perfect likeness. All that was missing was the small scar on his forehead.
“I think so too.” Lord Jennings walked up behind us. “The artist captured Ollie’s condescending gaze quite perfectly, don’t you think? See the way he looks down his nose at me? It’s as if he is standing right here in this room.”
“Damon.” Hannah frowned her disapproval.
To my surprise, he took his wife’s censure in stride. “Forgive me, Miss Lockwood. I should not have said that.” Then he added in a low voice, “Even if itistrue.”
