Page 119 of Harpy of the Ton
“Bella,” Lawrence warned.
She ignored him. “My husband is incapable of deceit, Mr. Trelawney,” she said. “He’s the most honest person I know. I’ve never heard him utter a single falsehood.”
Bloody hell—must she be so passionate in his defense? He loved her for it, but her loyalty only served to magnify the severity of his crimes against her.
“Bella, love…” he began, but Mr. Trelawney raised his hand, a smile on his lips.
“Mr. Baxter, a man with so passionate an advocate for his wife should not temper her loyalty. Very well, Mrs. Baxter, perhapsyoucould explain the designs. This one, for instance—the arches in the hedge. What are they supposed to represent?”
“Y-you wantmeto explain?” she asked.
“You drew them, yes? Did you have a particular objective in mind when you created these images?”
“I was thinking of your wife.”
“Do you know my wife?”
“N-no,” she said. “At least, I don’t think so. But my husband said you wanted a garden to make your wife happy. So I thought about what a woman might want from her garden—what she wants most in the world.”
“And what does a woman want most in the world?”
“Freedom.”
Trelawney frowned. “What are you implying, Mrs. Baxter?”
She colored. “Forgive me—I didn’t mean she wanted freedom fromyou. I only meant that a woman’s role is so confined. She keeps house, tends to the children, and has little opportunity to see the world.”
“Go on,” Trelawney said.
“So I thought that if a woman cannot see the world, then why not bring the world to her?”
“In a garden?”
“Why not?”
“Do you always answer a question with a question, Mrs. Baxter?” Trelawney gestured to the drawing. “What does this have to do with arches cut into a hedge?”
“It’s not a hedge. It’s the Colosseum.”
“Thewhat?”
“The Colosseum. It’s in Rome, and—”
“I know where it is,” Trelawney said, “but I wonder atyourknowing.”
“Because I’ve seen it,” she said.
Lawrence drew in a sharp breath. She’d been to Rome?
“Haveyou, Bella?” Lawrence asked. “When was this?”
“I-I can’t recall exactly. Perhaps with my mistress?”
“Your mistress?” Trelawney asked.
“I believe I was a lady’s maid.”
“You believe? Don’t youknow, Mrs. Baxter?”
