There was nothing else for it. Unless she could afford to pay higher rent. It was possible. She was in the position to earn more money, if she chose—if she took commissions like the one Lady Warwick had just sent her. It would mean less time doing the kind of art she wanted to and more time doing work for the sake of paying rent. By no means a new conundrum, and maybe she’d been lucky to avoid it for a while.
What were a few commissions a year? It would pay the bills and let her stay in the neighborhood she loved, even though many in her community had to find alternative choices.
This was the last thing she needed, but again, it had been coming. It was finally her turn.
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out Lady Warwick's letter. Unfortunately, she needed the money right now, no matter what happened. So maybe she should stop being so hardheaded and go paint the man. It wasn’t the end of the world. Two months and she would be paid well.
With a sigh, she dropped the letter on her small desk and then left it there. The response could wait. She had work to do.
Chapter 4
A FRIEND HAD AGREED TO keep her possessions while she was gone, which constituted her supplies, completed paintings and the ones she was currently working on. A couple of the smaller ones she decided to take with her. They had been sent ahead with a trunk of supplies for the portrait itself.
What gave her pause was if she should take one or two of the fine gowns that Eliza had procured for her when she’d attended the season in London.
They had all been largely sitting unused in her closet, with the exception of a gallery evening here and there. Once in a while, she had attended the theater with her friends, but these gowns were too fine for her typical evening out. Even so, she had taken meticulous care of them.
The kindness Eliza had shown her by getting them made was something she’d never forget, even as she’d known the charity had been a reason for Eliza and Caius to spend some time together. It hadn’t entirely been philanthropic, which probably sat better with her than her solely being considered as a charity. This way, it had been an additional consequence. Because the idea of being the recipient of charity sat badly with her, because she knew very well what that felt like. Instead, it had been a fortunate windfall that had come her way.
It wasn’t as if she’d needed a season, but the opportunity had come, and she didn’t regret having taken it. They were memories and experiences she would treasure, even if she’d decided, in the end, that a life in society wasn’t something she wanted to pursue. Maybe she would never have come to understand that without her season.
But now, should she take one or two of these lovely dresses with her? Whatever for, she chided herself. In her heart, though, she knew what for. Julius Hennington might invite her for supper one night and she didn’t want to be subject to his derision because of her dress.
The acknowledgement sat badly with her, because she was proud of her life and the choices she’d made, but there was that part of her that had hated how he’d looked down on her.
Acknowledging that urge made her uncomfortable. She absolutely didn’t want to be someone who cared what someone like him thought of her, and normally she absolutely wasn’t. Still, things were a little different with him, because he’d made his opinion felt previously, and he had never truly seen her as something other than an unnecessary charity case.
Why was she taking this commission again? Because she needed the money. A smaller voice in the back of her head said she also had something to prove to him.
No, she didn’t, she told herself. There was nothing she needed to prove to Julius Hennington, now Lord Hennington. In that moment, she determined she would not take any of her fine gowns with her.
It was time to go or she would miss her train. With the trunk, she couldn’t walk to the station, so she had to spend money to take a hack. This commission had better work out, or she would be out of pocket for the travel.
Once at the train station, excitement started to build. She did like traveling and experiencing new things. It fed her artist’s soul. It was also interesting to watch people, and on a train watching both people and the countryside was the only thing to do. In London, she would have to traverse the city before she could continue north.
What followed was a few hours of watching the mad jumble that was London, more money spent on hacks and a quick meal outside Euston station. More hours watching the landscape pass by.
When she reached her destination, which was a small country station, she was exhausted. To her delight, there was a carriage with the Hennington family coat of arms waiting for her. It surprised her that he’d been considerate enough to send a carriage. She had sent a date of her arrival, but she hadn’t expected him to help complete her journey.
After the tiring day, she fully appreciated not having to organize transport to Denham Hall herself. This wasn’t somewhere she’d ever been, but she’d heard it was a very fine estate indeed. The Henningtons were known for being a wealthy family. Although she supposed the Hennington family predominantly referred to Julius now.
The carriage was finely appointed. Not garish with ribbons and tassels, but sleek with tanned leather seats and cream silk on the walls. The carriage itself was lacquered black and the coat of arms had been done with gold leaf.
“Miss Brightly?” the driver asked as she stood
