Lady C, being the youngest, looked closest to her mother of all. "I never had a daughter," she said. "I'm so happy that now I'll have nieces again. And a nephew, too. Oh, my."
"My sisters are out with Noah at present," Rachael told her new family. "They're helping him choose a new desk. But they should be at home later, so we can go tell them our good news."
There were numerous murmurs of agreement to that plan.
"Maybe we'll all go shopping," Grandmama suggested. "I want to spoil my grandchildren. But first, let's have luncheon."
FORTY-SIX
CORINNA PACED the foyer, watching the clock tick toward the hour when it would be too late to submit her painting. Two hours earlier, the messenger she'd dispatched to Alexandra's house had returned with the news that her eldest sister wasn't at home. Corinna had then sent a desperate note to Juliana and another to Rachael, Claire, and Elizabeth.
Since then she'd heard nothing. Nothing. Nothing at all.
"What is taking them all so long?"
"Pardon, my lady?"
"Nothing, Adamson." She paused midpace. "No, not nothing," she revised, glancing at the tall-case clock once again. It was four o'clock, and she had to get to Somerset House by five, or she'd have to wait a whole year for another chance to submit to the Summer Exhibition. "Hail a hackney now, please. I shall have to take a footman. I cannot wait any longer."
Adamson opened his mouth to protest, but the knocker banged once again. He opened the door to reveal another messenger with a note—and Juliana out in the street, just alighting from the Stafford carriage.
"Thank God," Corinna breathed. "I won't need a hackney after all. Adamson, do please see my painting put in the Stafford carriage immediately. And carefully. The paper shouldn't be allowed to touch the paint, because it isn't dry yet."
The butler handed her the note. "It's for you, Lady Corinna. Surely you want to read it?"
"Oh, very well." She broke the seal and scanned it as Juliana joined her on the doorstep. "None of the cousins are at home, either," she reported with little surprise.
"Either?" Juliana echoed.
"Alexandra wasn't home, and neither is Griffin. And Lady A and Lady B are both busy this afternoon. And apparently Rachael, Claire, and Elizabeth are all busy, too. I'm grateful you could accompany me. Let's go."
"Everyone else was busy? Everyone? Dear heavens, what are the odds of such a coincidence?"
"I don't know, but I can't think about that now. We'll find out what everyone was doing tomorrow when we all visit Aunt Frances and the baby." She ushered her sister toward the carriage, where the painting was already tucked inside. "I must get to the Royal Academy before five o'clock."
They settled against the squabs, side by side facing forward, with the painting leaning against the other seat. As the carriage lurched into traffic, Juliana patted her sister's knee. "You aren't nervous, are you?"
"No," Corinna lied. "Just rushed. I feared no one would get here in time to accompany me. You weren't arriving, and the cousins live all the way in Lincoln's Inn—"
"Mr. Delaney is right nearby, along with his sister. Did you think to ask them?"
"I couldn't."
"Why is that?"
"Lord Lincolnshire is dying, and they have to stay with him. And besides, I couldn't let them see the painting."
"Why is that?"
Holy Hannah, Corinna thought, why had she said that? The frustrating afternoon had evidently robbed her ability to think straight.
"Why?" Juliana demanded. "You're hiding something, Corinna; I can tell."
There was nothing for it. Her sister would never give up badgering her, and if her painting was accepted, everyone was going to see it in the Summer Exhibition, anyway.
Corinna drew and held a breath. "Have a look," she finally said, reaching across to tear off the brown paper. Or rather, to tear a corner. She seemed to have trouble doing any more. "It's not varnished," she said.
Juliana shrugged. "All right."
"If it's accepted—if it's hung—I'll get a chance to make last minute changes and then varnish it right there on the wall."
"All right," Juliana repeated, and then, when Corinna failed to respond, she added, "So…?"
"Very well," Corinna said, and ripped the rest of the paper off.
Juliana's eyes widened. "Oh, my goodness."
"Is that all you have to say?"
"It's…well, it's different." She stared at the painting. "Nudes of women are fairly common, of course, but not of men."
"He's not nude," Corinna pointed out, feeling a bit queasy. "He's wearing trousers."
"Very tight ones," her sister agreed. "He's absolutely…" She blinked. "Dear heavens, don't you just want to take a bite out of him?"
Well, yes, as a matter of fact…but Corinna wasn't sure she liked her sister speaking of biting the man she loved.
And Juliana was still staring.
"He's compelling," Juliana murmured now. "I cannot seem to take my eyes off of him." But she did, finally meeting Corinna's. "It's magnificent, Corinna. You've always done good work, but this is spectacular."
Corinna's breath went out in a rush. "Do you really think so?"
"I know so. It's groundbreaking." She shifted her gaze back to the painting. "Why didn't you want Mr. Delaney to see it?"
"Does it perhaps…remind you of anyone you know?"
Juliana tilted her head. "Blond hair and brown eyes. That's an unusual combination, isn't it? I don't think so."
Corinna had counted on no one looking past the coloring, but she must not have been completely confident, because relief sang through her veins now. "I feared Mr. Delaney would find it shocking, that's all. His father was a vicar, you know."
"Really? I know very little about him."
"I don't know much about him, either," Corinna said, averting her gaze.
FORTY-SEVEN
IN THE WEE hours, the earl died.
He slipped off peacefully, leaving the world in his sleep as Lord Stafford had said he would. One instant his breathing rattled noisily; the next he went eerily silent.
Sean and Deirdre both held
