Page 33 of Healing the Duke's Desires
He didn’t know if that was the right decision, or if Emily would feel the same way about him. Perhaps it was nothing but fleeting affection. Still, he was curious to find out.
With a determined exhalation, Alexander turned away from the portraits, his steps guided by a newfound resolve. He approached a table strewn with an array of paintbrushes, his fingers grazing over the cool handles as he selected one that felt just right. The paint-smeared palette beckoned to him, a familiar tool that had once been an extension of his creative soul.
As he dipped the brush into a pool of paint, Alexander’s mind began to drift, the gentle rhythm of the brush against canvas becoming a soothing cadence. He painted with a quiet intensity, each stroke a reflection of his inner thoughts and emotions. Colors blended and merged, forming shapes and contours that were both familiar and novel.
Strangely enough, it wasn’t Amelia’s face that he was seeing with the eye of his mind. It was Emily’s. And with each consequent brushstroke, he was finding a way to channel his conflicted emotions and give them an outlet, a tangible form that would release them into this world.
He inhaled deeply, allowing the familiar scent of paint to permeate his nostrils. Little by little, the world outside seemed to fade away. There was nothing and no one left, just himself and the canvas before him, an old friend to whom he had finally returned after what seemed to be an eternity away.
Chapter 19
“My goodness, is that Lady Tannenbay?” Emily’s mother gasped in shock at the attendance of a lady who was considered one of the most prestigious guests any could ever hope to have. “And the Duchess of Wellington!”
“Mother!” Sarah pulled her mother by the arm, squeezing through clenched teeth.
“They are very important ladies, you know,” Lady Ashfordshire whispered as the three of them were led to the garden, where a small group of rather elegantly clad ladies were already seated, engaged in a conversation.
“Ah, you’ve made it!” The Duchess of Montpelier got up, flashing them one of her most charming smiles.
Finally, Emily remembered her. For some reason, she remembered this lady from other places where she herself had stumbled onto Alexander as well.
The Duchess of Montpelier had been present at the art exhibition. She had also attended the garden party Alexander’s aunt organized, and then, again, Emily thought she had caught a glimpse of her during the poetry recital. The Duchess of Montpelier was a strikingly beautiful woman, so it was easy to notice her.
“How lovely to see you all here,” the duchess gushed, taking Lady Ashfordshire by the hand as if the two had been the best of friends. Then she turned to Emily. “Emily, I’ve overheard a few things you said about literature at Lady Ravenswood’s garden party, and you speak so eloquently, my dear. It is such a pleasure to listen to you.”
“Why… thank you,” Emily said a little caught off guard by this sudden and unexpected compliment, but before she could say anything else, the duchess turned to Emily’s sister.
“And you must be Sarah.” She beamed. “I do remember you with a gentleman by your side. Young Mr. Wilcott, I presume?”
“Yes.” Sarah smiled, blushing at the very mention of Henry’s name, revealing the depth of her emotions for him.
“Indeed.” The Duchess of Montpelier nodded tenderly. “You had that very smile about you when you were with him. That makes him a very fortunate young man.”
Before allowing any of them to comment, she turned around and led them toward the garden and their designated seats. Without even thinking, Emily smoothed the fabric of her sky-blue gown, the delicate lace tracing her neckline providing a timeless elegance.
The air was redolent with the aroma of freshly brewed tea, blossoming flowers and delicate perfume worn by the sophisticated guests, all of whom turned to the newcomers with much curiosity.
The heart of the garden was transformed into a tableau of elegance. Canopied tables were adorned with delicate china, where cups and saucers seemed like miniature pieces of art.
The soft tinkling of silverware against porcelain created a melodic harmony that merged seamlessly with the joyful chatter of guests. Balmy sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow that danced upon the tablecloths.
“Ladies,” the Duchess of Montpelier addressed everyone, “may I introduce Lady Ashfordshire and her two lovely daughters, Ladies Emily and Sarah.”
Emily wasn’t expecting such a formal introduction, especially seeing that most of the ladies were older, bedecked in flowing dresses of silk and lace, hinting at their high status in London society. None of them spoke, they merely smiled and nodded in confirmation of something only they knew of.
“Do sit over there, ladies,” the Duchess of Montpelier urged them, and Emily was glad to sit down and hide herself as much as she could from the overly curious glances.
“That is a lovely gown, my dear. It looks quite fetching on you,” Emily heard to her left. When she turned her attention to the lady in question, she realized it was Lady Tannenbay, whom her mother had noticed first.
“Thank you, Lady Tannenbay.” Emily nodded courteously in reply.
“I told her the same thing.” Emily’s mother peeked from behind Sarah, wanting to join in the conversation. “Blue is her color, I would say.”
Lady Tannenbay smiled, and the conversation seemed to flow easily from there. Gossip and laughter intermingled, secrets and stories exchanged in hushed tones, creating an atmosphere charged with anticipation. As it turned out, Lady Tannenbay was quite fond of reading herself, so Emily found a wonderful conversationalist, discussing the latest novels as well as the classics.
Sarah and her mother turned to the other side, enjoying a pleasant chat with lady seated opposite them, talking about, from what Emily could overhear, horticulture and the fascinating lives of those in high society. Much to Emily’s surprise, it seemed that everyone was having a wonderful time.
At a certain point, everyone’s attention was drawn to thepièce de resistance,which was the elegantly arranged tea station. It was a focal point of the garden, boasting teas from all parts of the world. The servants made the desired teas, combining them into a feast for the senses as the aroma of the freshly brewed leaves hung in the air.
