Page 70 of From Unwanted to Duchess
“They speak of nothing else below stairs. How His Grace rode through the storm like a man possessed. How he carried you in, soaked to the bone himself, and would not leave your side.”
Frances nodded. She understood how deeply this had affected James by now, although she wasn’t sure what to make of it.
“He cares for you,” Lizette continued. “He genuinely does. Any fool could see it, begging Your Grace’s pardon.”
Frances smiled. “I care for him, too.”
Suddenly, an idea came to her. A way to show her gratitude. She should do something nice for him as he had done for her, and she knew just how.
“Pray, the paintings that were sent away for restoration, have they been brought back yet?”
“They have, Your Grace. They are in a room downstairs.”
“May I see them?”
“Of course,” Lizette said.
Together, the two of them made their way downstairs to one of the storage rooms. Sure enough, a number of paintings were lined up against the wall, ready to be rehung. Frances examined them and smiled.
“Would you tell the footmen to hang them, please? I am sure His Grace would like to see them again.”
She was confident it would be a nice surprise for James. He really hadn’t had time to tend to such things, and she knew he would enjoy not having empty spaces on the walls, seeing how he liked everything to be orderly. He could not abide disorder of any kind.
But that wasn’t quite enough. She needed something else, a special surprise.
“What are these?” she asked, pointing to a few other paintings leaning against the wall.
“Those paintings used to hang around the house. His Grace said that he was thinking of where to put them, but he hasn’t decided yet.”
Frances stepped over to the paintings and slowly removed the covers. They were of other ancestors, so she did not know who they were. Then she came across one she recognized: a man andtwo young boys standing side by side in front of the fireplace in the parlor. A handsome trio, caught in a moment of harmony.
“How young they look,” she murmured. “How innocent. Before the world taught them cruelty.” She pointed to the boy on the right. “This is His Grace.”
Lizette nodded. “It is. And that is his brother, Marcus. And of course, their father.”
“I wonder why this is not hung anywhere. I am sure His Grace would like to see a portrait of his brother. I know he was not terribly close to his father, but he and his brother were close. As close as brothers could be, by all accounts.”
“Indeed, they were. Perhaps it could be hung in the entrance hall. There is a spot right above the fireplace where it would suit.”
“I think that is a perfect idea.” Frances nodded. “Please see to it that the footmen hang it today. I wish to surprise him.”
She smiled. This should make James happy. Surely he would not mind that his father was in the painting, for it contained his brother.
This was something she could do for him. Take the burden of hanging the paintings off his shoulders.
And perhaps the reminder of his younger days, when his beloved brother still lived, would soften him. Remind him of happier days, before tragedy struck.
