“Ah, the arts. Yes. I too adore the arts. Say, have you had occasion to visit our sculpture garden yet?”
Sophia’s eyes widened. “I have not. It sounds splendid.”
The Duchess nodded. “Kenneth, why don’t you take Lady Sophia to see the sculpture garden tomorrow, after breakfast?”
Lord Rotham shrugged and tore a hot roll apart, spreading butter on each side.
“I suppose, although I know little of the arts.” He looked down at his plate, taking a large bite of his food. Ruth could tell he was highly uncomfortable as he made no direct eye contact with anyone but his parents. She was almost grateful that he did not care to look up too much because if he had, the seating arrangement meant he’d look directly at her scar. And she already knew how he reacted to it.
“That is quite all right, my lord. I would still like to see them. I love sculptures,” Sophia said. “My dream is to travel to Italy one day and see the statue of David.”
This delighted the Duchess, as it was evident by the wide smile on her face. “You must. I have seen it and it was exquisite. I have a mind to accompany you and my son to the sculpture garden. It is delightful to have somebody as interested in arts visiting. I am afraid that my husband and son do not care for it much. Do you paint, Lady Sophia?”
The Duchess took a drink from her cup and dabbed the corners of her mouth carefully with her napkin.
“I do. Watercolors.”
“I too enjoy watercolors. Kenneth, why don’t you tell Lady Sophia about your visit to the Royal Academy of Arts in London?”
Lord Rotham placed his cup down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He blinked; his eyes fixed on the fillet of pork on the table. “It was exquisite. Very pleasant.”
The Duchess sucked in a lung full of air and when Ruth looked up at her, she could tell the woman was irritated by her son’s short answers. For a brief moment, the Marquess turned his head and their eyes met. Ruth felt almost sorry for the young man when she saw the harassed expression in his eyes. It was evident he did not want to be at this table any more than she. Although neither had a choice in the matter.
Dinner, unfortunately, continued in much the same vein. The Duchess did her very best to involve her son and Sophia in conversation, failing each time due to Lord Rotham’s unwillingness to participate.
Sophia did her very best to please the Duchess as well as gain her son’s attention. However, by the time the main course was taken away and replaced by dessert, the conversation was almost entirely between the two Dukes. Ruth, meanwhile, was entirely ignored by the Duchess and only occasionally acknowledged by Lord Rotham with a stray glance at her scar.
She was about to take a bite of the plum cake on her plate when the Duke turned to her.
“Lady Ruth, I feel as though we have heard nothing from you all evening. Say, do you share your sister’s interest in art?”
The sudden attention, as well as the return to a subject long concluded, startled her and she dropped her fork on the plate with a loud clang. Mortified, she sat up straight. A wave of heat rushed through her body as she grabbed ahold of her handkerchief on her lap. She twisted the fabric between her fingers, something she always found helped with her nerves.
“I am afraid I do not, Your Grace,” she finally replied.
“Ruth is a wonderful musician,” Sophia chimed in. “I wish I were half as talented at painting as she is at music.”
“Is that so? I am fond of music myself. So is my son,” the Duke said.
“Which instrument do you play?” Lord Rotham suddenly asked. Ruth was not the only person startled by his sudden partaking in the conversation. Everyone else at the table turned and looked at the young man then as well.
“I play the harp and the cello. But it is the pianoforte I favor.”
He smiled at her when she said this and suddenly his entire face looked different to her. Softer, kinder. She saw how handsome he truly was.
“I have taken lessons in the piano but never mastered it. It is a true accomplishment to play it well.”
Ruth averted her eyes, embarrassed by his words. Her father, on the other hand, found it impossible to resist an opportunity to raise the profile of his often neglected and ignored daughter.
“Ruth is a true talent. I always say if she wanted to, she could play for the Prince Regent himself and he would be entirely enchanted by her gift.”
The Duke placed his napkin down on the plate then and clapped his hands together. “Well, then. We must simply hear this talent play. What do you say, Lady Ruth? Will you delight us with a piece of music?”
Ruth’s hands remained under the table as she swallowed. Being put on the spot like this made her incredibly nervous, but she knew she could not deny him.
“Of course,” she said in a small voice, much to the Duke’s delight. He got up and led the way to the drawing-room. The music room adjoined the drawing-room by way of large double doors. If opened, this created a large space and his mother loved nothing more than to host elaborate tea parties there.
Ruth pretended as though she was finishing her glass of wine, while in reality, she had to gather herself. She loved music and loved to play, but the thought of doing so before an audience was terrifying to her.
