see.”
“That’s the spirit. Do you want me to explain your departure to Ned Howard for you?”
“No, I must thank him for his help. And will be rude, I think, not to say good-bye to Mrs. Howard, who has often given the hospitality. I shall see Polly one more time.”
As he went back to his room to dress, Kolya wished he could ask Polly to wait for him, until he was able to support her. It would not be fair, since she had two eminently eligible suitors at hand.
Chapter 9
Polly dashed through the drizzle to the studio. Another dank, grey day, and no doubt Fitz and Bev would be underfoot the half of it. It was all very well driving about the countryside with Mr. Bevan, discovering new scenes worthy of her brush, or chatting with Lord Fitzsimmons as she painted the picturesque pond or stream he was fishing in. Having to entertain them in the drawing room was another matter.
They kepther from her work.
Mama would not let her avoid their presence. Mama was certain that one or both gentlemen were about to come up toscratch. She had been seen casting significant looks at her daughter’s suitors while whispering to the vicar’s wife, who wore an air of mingled complicity and congratulation.
She might even be right about his lordship, Polly thought as she pulled on her smock. Fitz was growing more and more particular in his attentions, and kept casting out remarks about his family and his home. He was more serious-minded than Bev, whose extravagant compliments were to be taken with a grain of salt.
Atleast, Fitz was serious about his wretched fishing. Polly was all too aware that he regarded her painting in the light of a suitable hobby which would naturally fade away when she had her own home and family to care for. Like his sister’s watercolours—she had not forgotten his sister. As for Bev, she rather thought he was the quintessential bachelor. She doubted she would be called upon to reject him. Not that she really considered Fitz likely to propose marriage. After all, he was a peer and she was merely the daughter of a sea captain.
Thank heaven they were well-bred gentlemen who would not dream of paying a call before eleven in the morning. She had a couple of hours to herself now. What she really wanted though was the time and the weather to start on another portrait of Kolya. Since Fitz and Bev arrived, she had seen so little of him.
As if in answer to her thought, there was a knock on the door, and he came into the studio.
“Mr. Volkov,” she greeted him with delight, “I was just wondering when I should be able to start another painting of you. Are you not going out with Ned this morning? I could make some sketches if you are not in a hurry.”
He smiled, but his eyes were grave. “I am not going out with your brother. I have just now taken leave of him, and of madame and Nicholas.” His voice sounded strained.
“Taken leave? I don’t understand.” Polly had a horrid feeling that she did understand, all too well.
“I must go today to Brighton.”
“That is not far. You are going for several days?”
“I cannot be sure for how long. The king commands my presence.”
“The king!”
“Lord John believes His Majesty may offer me a position in his household.”
“Then you might not come back?” Polly struggled to keep her voice even. She could not meet his eyes.
“Whatever happens I shall visit the Danvilles.”
“So perhaps I…we shall see you again one day. I…I am glad to have made your acquaintance, sir, and I wish you well.”
“Miss Howard!” He held out both hands towards her but she pretended she did not see. He cleared his throat. “Miss Howard, I may ask you one favour?”
“Yes, of course.” Surprised, she looked up. For a breathless moment she thought he was going to kiss her, then he stepped back, as if afraid to be too close.
Again he cleared his throat. “I would like totake a few pictures, as reminder of our friendsh...acquaintance. You do not
“That’s the spirit. Do you want me to explain your departure to Ned Howard for you?”
“No, I must thank him for his help. And will be rude, I think, not to say good-bye to Mrs. Howard, who has often given the hospitality. I shall see Polly one more time.”
As he went back to his room to dress, Kolya wished he could ask Polly to wait for him, until he was able to support her. It would not be fair, since she had two eminently eligible suitors at hand.
Chapter 9
Polly dashed through the drizzle to the studio. Another dank, grey day, and no doubt Fitz and Bev would be underfoot the half of it. It was all very well driving about the countryside with Mr. Bevan, discovering new scenes worthy of her brush, or chatting with Lord Fitzsimmons as she painted the picturesque pond or stream he was fishing in. Having to entertain them in the drawing room was another matter.
They kepther from her work.
Mama would not let her avoid their presence. Mama was certain that one or both gentlemen were about to come up toscratch. She had been seen casting significant looks at her daughter’s suitors while whispering to the vicar’s wife, who wore an air of mingled complicity and congratulation.
She might even be right about his lordship, Polly thought as she pulled on her smock. Fitz was growing more and more particular in his attentions, and kept casting out remarks about his family and his home. He was more serious-minded than Bev, whose extravagant compliments were to be taken with a grain of salt.
Atleast, Fitz was serious about his wretched fishing. Polly was all too aware that he regarded her painting in the light of a suitable hobby which would naturally fade away when she had her own home and family to care for. Like his sister’s watercolours—she had not forgotten his sister. As for Bev, she rather thought he was the quintessential bachelor. She doubted she would be called upon to reject him. Not that she really considered Fitz likely to propose marriage. After all, he was a peer and she was merely the daughter of a sea captain.
Thank heaven they were well-bred gentlemen who would not dream of paying a call before eleven in the morning. She had a couple of hours to herself now. What she really wanted though was the time and the weather to start on another portrait of Kolya. Since Fitz and Bev arrived, she had seen so little of him.
As if in answer to her thought, there was a knock on the door, and he came into the studio.
“Mr. Volkov,” she greeted him with delight, “I was just wondering when I should be able to start another painting of you. Are you not going out with Ned this morning? I could make some sketches if you are not in a hurry.”
He smiled, but his eyes were grave. “I am not going out with your brother. I have just now taken leave of him, and of madame and Nicholas.” His voice sounded strained.
“Taken leave? I don’t understand.” Polly had a horrid feeling that she did understand, all too well.
“I must go today to Brighton.”
“That is not far. You are going for several days?”
“I cannot be sure for how long. The king commands my presence.”
“The king!”
“Lord John believes His Majesty may offer me a position in his household.”
“Then you might not come back?” Polly struggled to keep her voice even. She could not meet his eyes.
“Whatever happens I shall visit the Danvilles.”
“So perhaps I…we shall see you again one day. I…I am glad to have made your acquaintance, sir, and I wish you well.”
“Miss Howard!” He held out both hands towards her but she pretended she did not see. He cleared his throat. “Miss Howard, I may ask you one favour?”
“Yes, of course.” Surprised, she looked up. For a breathless moment she thought he was going to kiss her, then he stepped back, as if afraid to be too close.
Again he cleared his throat. “I would like totake a few pictures, as reminder of our friendsh...acquaintance. You do not
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