Chapter Eighteen #2
‘Actually, I’ve decided to set out immediately.
Now, before you protest, hear me out. As the sessions proceed, you’ll have ever more meetings and consultations.
I’ve tepid interest at best in the social events here and no interest at all in the making and receiving of calls, shopping and exchanging gossip that occupies most of a Society lady’s day.
Nor is there much variety in the subjects available to sketch: birds, squirrels and a few assorted insects, since despite their ready availability, I refuse to stoop to drawing rats.
You know I detest them and I only sketch the things I love. ’
She paused to sip her wine. Rafe was looking at her thoughtfully and hadn’t attempted to interrupt her yet, which was a good sign.
Encouraged, she continued, ‘There will, in contrast, be a world of new creatures to discover and sketch in Cornwall. Many more, I think, than you would have the patience or interest in waiting around for me to work my way through. Remember that day at the Royal Academy.’
He almost groaned before he caught himself. ‘I enjoyed watching you enraptured by all the subjects and techniques,’ he protested.
‘Perhaps, but you can’t deny that, had you come on your own or with a party of friends, you would have left far earlier.’
Since that was unanswerable, he didn’t attempt to deny it.
‘I know you could make good use of your time. And I’m sure Mrs Earnshaw would enjoy having the company of someone who shared her love of Lady Fallsham. But…what about me? What am I to do with myself on those long days—and longer nights—in London without you?’
He looked so forlorn, she almost relented. Almost.
‘I think we’ve already pointed out that much of your day will be taken up either with consultations or meeting other gentlemen at your club.
Aren’t the rest of the cavalry regiments due back from Calais soon?
You’ll have so many friends to catch up with, so much news to exchange and so many gatherings fueled by brandy, cigars and card-playing that last until the wee hours, you’ll scarcely have time to miss me. ’
As he couldn’t refute that prediction, either, she continued, ‘By the time you are ready to leave London, if you choose to meet me in Cornwall, I should be almost done with my sketching, having filled up my books and probably also exhausted my hostess’s hospitality, so our stay there together would be enjoyably brief.
Or if you discover before the end of the sessions that there are tasks at Thornthwaite needing your immediate attention, I could meet you back there. ’
He sipped his wine, looking thoughtful. Finally, he said softly, ‘Won’t you miss me?’
Miss the love she longed for that would never be hers? That she’d been foolish enough to think she might have won after all?
The question like a dagger slicing further open still-raw wounds, she dashed away the start of useless tears. ‘Desperately. But I shall have to bear up, won’t I? I will have my sketching and new worlds to explore to keep me from succumbing to melancholy.’
Words she would need to engrave on her heart and live by.
Rafe shook his head. ‘I would like to argue with you, but my days will probably unfold much as you have described. I know London holds little appeal for you, and I promised I would help, not hinder you, in pursuing the art you’re so passionate about.
You have far too much talent for me to go back on my word now.
I can’t say I like the idea, but…’ He sighed.
‘Very well; I’ll not stand in your way. But you must return to London at once if you grow tired of Cornwall or summon me and I’ll come fetch you. ’
He’d put up a bit of a fight, which made her feel a little better.
She had by no means recovered her normal equilibrium, but the burden of distress had lightened somewhat.
She would have the time she needed to reconstruct her expectations and refashion her emotions.
And then, please God, when she did join with him again, she would be able to reveal the joy of a child to ease her into the relationship that would be the most she could expect going forward.
And she’d have discovered whether, or how, she could live with his regard for Thalia.
After all, respect and friendship weren’t to be despised, she insisted to herself.
Many marriages survived on less. She was sharing her life with the only man she’d ever wanted.
She had her husband’s support for her exploration of the natural world, for her artwork, his appreciation for her help with his estate, and soon, the prospect of a child to bind them even closer.
Should she just cease complaining and be thankful for the blessings she had?
As she finished her wine, Rafe put down his own glass and reached out to her.
‘Come here, dear wife, and let me show you just how desperately I will miss you.’
As always, she let him lead her to bed, ready now to submerge her tumultuous emotions once more under the concealing carapace of passion.