Marguerite Kaye - Regency Surrender - Notorious Secrets - The Soldier's Dark Secret / The Soldier's Rebel Lover

Just as Jack had done that first morning at the lake .

Despair? Anguish? Whatever label one put on it, it was obvious now that her mother had indeed suffered. And she, Celeste, had been oblivious to it. All the signs had been right in front of her nose, and she had not noticed them. She shook her head in disgust at herself. ‘I have been an idiot! For an artist, quite the blind woman. Thinking I was the poor little schoolgirl, when really it was a case of all the other little schoolgirls being so very rich.’

Her fingers went to the locket around her neck. ‘That’s another thing,’ Jack said almost apologetically. ‘I doubt very much that your locket is a trinket. In fact I think you’ll find it’s made of diamonds and sapphire, not glass. There’s a maker’s mark. I’ll show you.’

Celeste took the locket off obediently. There it was. She looked at the portraits inside, painted in such a way that her mother gazed across at her. Lovingly? Her mother, who had claimed in her last letter, that she had always loved her. Was this locket proof as Jack said? Celeste found this almost impossible to believe.

Almost? She touched the miniature of her mother with the tip of her finger, an echo of Jack’s gesture with his own mother’s picture in the portrait gallery, she realised. But his had been one of unmistakable affection and love. Was hers?

She looked up, smiling faintly at Jack. ‘You have given me a great deal to think about,’ she said, snapping the locket shut.

A rap on the door heralded the arrival of her patrons. Celeste quickly made the final touches to her arrangement of sketches, ensuring the ones she favoured were most prominent, but when the door opened, it was to reveal Lady Eleanor alone.

* * *

‘My husband sends his apologies, Mademoiselle , he will be unable to join us this morning, but he desired me to make some preliminary selections from your work. I trust this is satisfactory?’

Without waiting for an answer, her ladyship made straight for the table where the sketches were laid out and began sifting through them. Jack cast Celeste an eloquent glance, and began unobtrusively to push the preferred drawings towards his brother’s wife.

‘Of course, these are just very rudimentary sketches to give you an idea of what the finished work would look like,’ Celeste said, ‘but I hope they are sufficient to allow you to make some decisions on the sequence in which you would like me to paint the formal gardens.’

Lady Eleanor examined the sketches carefully. It had always amused Celeste to witness her patrons’ reactions at this stage. Seeing their estates spread out before them on paper almost always made them view their properties afresh, made them somehow grander, more magnificent, which in turn added to their own sense of consequence.

Lady Eleanor was no different. ‘I must say, I had not appreciated the epic sweep of the estate. You have managed to cover a great deal of ground in a very short time.’

‘Thank you. Monsieur Trestain has been most helpful. He has an excellent eye for the most pleasing views.’

‘Well, it is comforting to know that he has managed to occupy himself gainfully,’ Lady Eleanor said pointedly. ‘I expect you, Mademoiselle , being a—a woman of the world are rather more equipped to deal with Jack’s outbursts than a child. Robert,’ she continued, addressing Jack directly, ‘was sobbing his little heart out the other day after his encounter with you.’

Jack blanched. Celeste felt her fists curl. ‘If you do not mind me saying,’ she said, ‘when Jack refused Robert’s request in a perfectly reasonable manner, it was the child who threw the tantrum, not Jack.’

‘Celeste.’ Jack held up his hand to quiet her. ‘I am very sorry if I upset Robert, Eleanor.’

‘My son, like all small boys, is obsessed with all things military,’ her ladyship replied, her stiff manner giving way to a plaintive one. ‘He would hang on your every word for a first-hand account of Waterloo. Your brother tells me I must try to stop him bothering you, but Robert is such a naturally inquisitive little chap.’

‘He reminds me very much of Charlie at that age,’ Jack said. ‘Mad keen on fishing.’

‘And equally eager to hear his uncle’s account of what is our nation’s greatest victory. No disrespect intended, Mademoiselle . Really, Jack, is that too much to ask? Frankly, I’m at a loss to fathom you these days. I remember a time when you were more than happy to sit up until dawn, regaling Charles with your exploits. I know you are still recovering from your wounds, and that we must all make allowances for your—your— For the anguish you are suffering at having witnessed the deaths of so many of your comrades, but...’

‘Is that what Charlie thinks it is?’ Jack shook his head when Lady Eleanor made to answer. ‘No matter. I am sorry to have upset him, but I cannot— The days of my boasting of my army exploits are over, Eleanor, but I am more than happy to take Robert fishing instead.’

‘But I do not see...’ Making an obvious effort, Lady Eleanor bit back her remonstration. ‘That is kind of you, Jack.’

‘It is nothing. I do care for the boy, you know, regardless of how it may appear.’ Jack picked up some of Celeste’s sketches. ‘In the meantime, let us concentrate on your selections. Look at this study of the Topiary Garden. Do you not think that it is a great shame to have it cut down? When you see it afresh like this, through Mademoiselle ’s clever eye, it really is quite lovely and wants only a little tidying up to bring it back to its former glory.’

‘Rather more than a little tidying up,’ Lady Eleanor replied, ‘and it is so very gloomy.’

Jack picked up another view of the Topiary Garden. ‘Look at this, though. Mademoiselle Marmion was telling me that though she’s painted some of the grandest estates in France, the Trestain Manor Topiary Garden is one of the finest examples she has ever seen.’

Lady Eleanor looked doubtfully at the sketch. ‘Really? I had no idea. Is this true, Mademoiselle ?’

‘Why, yes,’ Celeste replied, intensely relieved that Jack had managed to turn the subject. ‘In France, the art of topiary is much admired. The best examples attract admirers from all over the country. I think that your garden, with only a few changes, could do the same.’

‘You would be leading the way for England,’ Jack said. ‘Your good sense in preserving the garden will be appreciated by generations of Trestains to come. Think about that, Eleanor.’

Her ladyship did, rewarding Celeste with a tight smile. ‘I wonder, Mademoiselle , if it is not too much trouble, if you could perhaps give me the benefit of your artistic eye and suggest a few enhancements. I can then discuss them with Sir Charles and our landscaper. Awarding you full credit for your contribution of course.’

Celeste nodded, slanting Jack a complicit smile. Lady Eleanor continued to sift through the drawings, laying a small selection to one side which, Celeste was pleased to note, contained most of her own favourites.

‘These are really very good, Mademoiselle ,’ she said, sounding as if she meant it. ‘I am most pleased. Sir Charles will make the final selection tomorrow. You will excuse me now, I must go and speak to cook. Your Aunt Christina’s long-awaited annual gift of a haunch of prime Highland venison has finally arrived, Jack. Something of a family tradition, Mademoiselle ,’ she added by way of explanation. ‘Every year we have a special banquet when it arrives. We will be celebrating the occasion tonight.’

Jack shifted uncomfortably, looking not at all enamoured by the prospect.

‘Your brother,’ Lady Eleanor said, ‘will be very much gratified by your presence. I believe that your aunt, in the accompanying letter, was most eager for you to partake of the beast, and particularly requested that Charles give her an account of the dinner—for it seems she has no hope of a letter from you.’