"Let's talk to her now," Juliana said.
Corinna wasn't sure how wise that would be, considering Sean feared his sister might give them away. But she had no choice. In her usual decisive manner, Juliana was already heading Lord Lincolnshire's way.
"Lady Corinna!" he wheezed when they arrived, grinning up at her from his wheelchair. He looked to Juliana. "And Lady Stafford. Please…allow me to introduce Mrs. Hamilton, the next…Countess of Lincolnshire."
Behind him, Sean shifted uncomfortably. But Deirdre was Mrs. Hamilton, after all. And she would be the next Countess of Lincolnshire—at least until she managed to secure the divorce she was seeking.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Juliana told Deirdre.
"It's my pleasure to meet you. I've been hearing so much about your family, especially your sister."
Corinna flushed, wondering what Sean might have told Deirdre. But then she realized it was probably Lord Lincolnshire who'd done the talking. She was painting him, after all, and he was rather pleased by that.
"Mr. Hamilton!" Lady Ainsworth, a tall woman who looked even taller wearing a golden turban, bustled over. "What a delight to see you again! What are you painting these days, if I might ask?"
"A landscape," Sean said.
"A landscape!" Lady Ainsworth's loud laugh had more people coming to join them. Evidently Sean's celebrity had yet to wear off. "Have you ever painted anything that wasn't a landscape, Mr. Hamilton?"
"I suppose I haven't."
"You suppose?" Lady Ainsworth's laugh was really quite annoying. "What is it a landscape of?" she asked.
"It's a meadow scene," Corinna said.
Lady Hartshorn turned to her. She was a short, round woman who had very wide eyes at the moment. "You've seen it?"
"I have." Corinna smiled, thinking Lady Hartshorn looked rather envious. "The trees are exquisite, their shadows most intriguing."
"Speaking of intriguing shadows," a gentleman said, looking to Sean, "I've been wondering about Allegory of Shadow."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Allegory of Shadow. Your most famous painting?"
"Oh, yes." Sean's own laugh sounded rather forced. "Of course. I was still thinking about my new painting, I fear. Once I finish a piece, I quite put it out of my mind."
"May I ask what inspired you? What made you decide to focus so on the shadows?"
"The, ah…the trees. I've always found trees very inspiring. Lush trees of the English countryside that grow from wee acorns to cast large shadows—"
"But Mr. Hamilton," Lady Ainsworth interrupted, her turban bobbing as though it were as indignant as she. "I don't recall seeing any trees in Allegory of Shadow. Its central subject is a stone circle, isn't it? And not in England, but in Ireland, I do believe?"
"Well, I was raised in Ireland—"
"Exactly," Corinna cut in. "Allegories are symbolic representations, as you know. If one looks closely, one will see that the shadows cast by the standing stones resemble trees. English trees."
"Oh," the woman said.
"I cannot believe you didn't know that," Lady Hartshorn scoffed. "It's brilliant, Mr. Hamilton. Simply brilliant. How long did you take to paint it?"
"Three days, my lady."
"Three days? The thing is the size of a drawing room wall! The largest painting in the history of the Summer Exhibition, wasn't it?"
"When one is inspired," Corinna said, "the image simply flows from the hand through the brush. I myself have completed a painting in a single day." Once. One tiny painting, no more than eight inches square. Allegory of Shadow was eight feet by sixteen, at the very least. "Have you ever painted, Lady Hartshorn?"
"No. No, I haven't."
"I thought not," Corinna said in a superior tone of voice.
Just then Lord Lincolnshire coughed. And coughed again.
"Do you need something to drink, Uncle?" Sean took the back of his chair, looking not at all unpleased to have a plausible excuse to escape the conversation. "Let me bring you to the refreshment room."
Without the celebrated Mr. Hamilton as a point of focus, the gathering quickly dispersed. Shifting uneasily, Deirdre watched her brother wheel the earl off.
"Would you like to go outside, Mrs. Hamilton?" Juliana asked her kindly. "Lord Billingsgate has a lovely garden."
"Oh, yes," Deirdre said, sounding grateful. "I would like that very much."
"Why don't you take her?" Juliana suggested to Corinna, her gaze straying to where James stood in a circle of men engaged in a heated argument. All members of Parliament, no doubt. "I've a mind to rescue my husband by asking him for a dance."
Corinna nodded, taking Deirdre's arm to steer her around the perimeter of the dance floor, toward French doors that opened to the terrace. "Thank you," Sean's sister breathed when they finally made it outside. "I'm thinking I don't really belong in there, do I?"
Corinna led her down a path where twinkling lanterns hung overhead. "Whyever would you say that?"
"I'm a simple country girl, a vicar's daughter from a village in Ireland. I've no place in London society."
"You're married to John Hamilton."
"In name only," Deirdre said darkly. "He hasn't paid me any mind since…well, for a long time."
In all the time since Deirdre lost their baby, Corinna knew. Although Sean had told her little about himself, he'd spent much time explaining Deirdre's situation and how it had led to the mess they were in now. She imagined it was hard for Deirdre to speak of it. "You have every right to be here. And at least you know more about art than your brother."
"I know less about my husband's art than you might think. You did a grand job deflecting those questions. I can see why my brother admires you."
Sean had told her that? Corinna's heart skipped a beat at the thought. "I'm surprised to hear he said so."
"Not in so many words, mind you. But he told me all about you, and I could hear it in his tone of voice."
"He
