“I will try and come back later his afternoon or early this evening. And tell the boys they can come fetch me if it is urgent.”
Joshua took hold of Lucy’s hands. “You are an angel, Miss Lucy Brighton. God bless you.”
She smiled and left, wrapping her shawl tightly around her shoulders as she walked through the morning mists and chill.
* * *
Lucy fretted all day over Isabell, her mind only partially on the task at hand. The Duchess was restless and constantly calling for Lucy from some other part of the house to come and tend to her. The dog was taken out three times. More than the usual number of doses of the drops were administered, and even though Lucy read to her when requested, the Duchess tended to fall asleep within a few moments of Lucy’s starting to read.
Finally, Lucy was able to break free when the Duchess settled down for a nap. Lucy raced over to check on her friend and could not see the boys as she approached the cottage. She knocked and went inside.
“Isabell?”
“In here.”
Lucy went to the bedroom and was delightfully surprised to find Isabell sitting up in the bed, no longer bundled under a mountain of covers.
“Oh, Isabell, you look so much better. You finally have some color.” Lucy began to cry. “I was so worried about you.”
She went over to the bed, sat on the edge and took Isabell’s hands. “You feel so much cooler. The fever must be gone completely now.”
“I believe so. And I have been able to take some soup and some cheese curds. I feel that I shall soon mend.” Lucy gave her friend a hug, and then sat back and beamed at her with a large smile. “Now then, I want to hear all about London, and what you got up to.”
Lucy was only too happy to oblige, and they nattered away the rest of the afternoon. She did not think of leaving until Joshua returned, and she realized she needed to get back to help Cook prepare supper.
* * *
George helped Lucy down from the back of the horse. They were both silent as they stood at the edge of the stream and looked at the rebuilt house. The only part remaining from the old house was the fireplace and chimney, and now a wisp of smoke drifted skyward—perhaps left over from the fire to prepare breakfast. But there seemed to be no one about.
Lucy shivered involuntarily, and George put his arm around her shoulders. But Lucy disengaged from him, went over to the bank of the stream, picked a flower, and went to lay it at the cottage door.
“Are you all right?” he asked softly, as she returned.
She looked up at him with moist eyes, and said, “I am. Thank you for bringing me. I do not think I shall need to come here again.”
Chapter 13
Six Years Later
So much had changed; so little had changed at Grayson Manor.
George was now even more handsome at six and twenty than he had been at twenty. By his hard work on the estate, he had grown into his manhood and lost the soft edges of the younger man. His shoulders had broadened, the chiseled lines of his face had set, and yet when he was painting, he had the grace of a floating swan.
“Turn your head a little more to your right, please,” George instructed Lucy who was posing for him, once again, in his studio.
“You are keeping me from my writing you know?” she said while maintaining her perfect pose.
“Just a little bit longer, then you are free. But for some reason, your portraits are some of my best-selling work.”
It was not difficult to see why. While George had grown more handsome, Lucy had finessed into a quiet and elegantly beautiful young woman at two and twenty. What everyone commented on, when they were studying her portraits in the gallery, was her stunning piercing gaze. Her dark eyes were expressive in ways that no one seemed able to describe. Her eyes showed intelligence, but also held the promise of depths waiting to be explored.
Lucy reached up and massaged the back of her neck.
“I am sorry, are you uncomfortable?” George asked.
“This position… I seem to have a slight spasm.”
“Very well, enough for today. But the light is so perfect just now.”
