Page 21 of The Dreaming Beauty
He removed his hat, hit the knocker against the door a few times, and waited.
Thomas opened the door. The family’s man of all work had cleaned up and combed his hair. “Your name, sir?”
Marcus frowned. Thomas had helped him with the fence just yesterday. Could he have already forgotten his name? “It’s me, Mr. Taylor. I’ve come to call on the family.”
“Very good, sir. If you could wait just inside, I will see if the family is ready to receive you.”
Ready to receive him? This wasn’t the same family he’d greeted all week. He stepped inside as the middle-aged man left him at the door. He craned his ear, knowing the sitting room was a mere few feet away, sure he’d hear the family’s reaction. When he heard nothing, he took a step forward. Silence. He took another step forward and almost collided with the servant as he rounded the corner.
“The family will see you now, sir.”
Marcus nodded and turned to his side to pass the servant in the narrow vestibule. He entered to find all four ladies sitting primly on the sofa, their heads high and their hands clasped in their laps. They stood in unison.
He dipped his head, watching them all curtsy in return. “Forgive me, but what is all this?”
“Please sit down,” Mrs. Wood said, ignoring his question. He frowned and took the same chair he’d taken several times before, and they followed suit, resuming their places on the sofa.
“Are you in good health, Mr. Taylor?” Mrs. Wood asked.
“Excellent. But why all the pomp?”
“Would you care for some tea?” Tansy asked. “Cook is preparing it now.”
“Um, actually, I just ate after working at the Kemps’. I was hoping to see Miss White’s fairy houses. Has another been completed?”
The Miss White in question had been sitting squished between her two sisters, and she sat forward with sudden enthusiasm. “Oh yes! There is a third now. You must see it!”
“By all means, I must see it at once.”
Miss White jumped to her feet, but both her sisters snagged her arms and pulled her back down.
“Surely Mr. Taylor is much too refined to be interested in such ridiculous things as fairy houses,” Mrs. Palmer said. He noticed her hair was neater today than it had been on past visits.
“On the contrary,” Marcus said. “I should very much like to see it. I feel invested in the project after nearly losing my life to it when I first visited.”
Mrs. Wood sucked in her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. It was the look of a woman who respected the rules of propriety above all else, a look he saw often during his trips to London. But why her delayed reaction? Tansy bit back an uncertain smile.
“Should we all walk out there together?” Tansy asked her aunts.
“Yes!” Miss White said with gusto.
Mrs. Wood sputtered and then hunched forward so she might look at her sister. “Very well, Daisy, but youmustcontain yourself.”
“I will. I promise,” Miss White assured her.
Marcus caught Tansy’s eyes, and they shared a quiet smile. They all stood, and Marcus stepped to the side to be out of their way. He glanced up at the painting of Rose Cottage again. “That certainly is a beautiful rendition of the house. I can’t help but admire it each time I come.”
The women seemed to all freeze at once. His eyes went to Tansy first. She seemed almost panicked. Had speaking of the painting been in poor taste? He did not understand how it could have been interpreted as anything less than a compliment.
Mrs. Wood spoke first. “It is beautiful. Tansy painted it for us.”
“Miss Tansy?” He stared at her. “I had no idea of your talent.”
She squeezed her hands together. “I have had no formal training, so I cannot boast of much, though I do enjoy the art.”
He admired the painting again. There was no doubt a wildness to the strokes, but the image and likeness were stunning. “I am an admirer of your work and would love to see more another time.”
A soft dusting of pink graced the balls of her cheeks. “I would be honored to show you, sir.”
