Page 61 of A Devious Secret

Stephen shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to be like Lord Byron.”

“Good, because the ladies swoon for him, and you do not have a ‘swoonable’ persona about you,” Hugh said.

Marielle swatted at her husband’s sleeve. “Be nice to Stephen,” she encouraged. “He is trying his best.”

“Do you want me to lie to him?” Hugh asked as he led Marielle outside.

Stephen gave Gemma an apologetic smile. “I must admit my attempt to compliment you was awful,” he said. “I shall have to work on my compliments.”

“Don’t try too hard because I thought it was sweet,” Gemma responded with a smile.

Gemma’s eyes roamed over Sir William Hamilton’s drawings as she stood in the gallery of the museum. She had always been a fan of his work, and Baldwin had even commissioned Sir William to paint a portrait of him as a gift to her. Sadly, that painting hung at Henry’s country estate because he insisted it remain behind when she moved into the Dowager House. She didn’t see it as often as she liked because she dreaded going to the main house. That is where Henry was and she attempted to avoid him at all costs.

“Do you have a favorite painting by Sir William Hamilton?” Stephen asked, breaking the silence.

“I do,” Gemma said. “His painting of Marie Antoinette being led to her execution is my favorite.”

Stephen eyed her curiously. “Why is that?”

Gemma continued to admire the drawings on the wall as she explained, “I can’t imagine how scared she must have been, knowing that her death was imminent, but she kept her head held high for all to see. To me, she was brave.”

“That she was,” Stephen agreed. “I remember my father was aghast when he read the newssheets announcing her death. He couldn’t believe the French had the audacity to behead their queen.”

“Some people always need someone to blame for their woes, and Marie Antoinette was an easy target. They even convicted her of treason.”

“She was only thirty-seven at the time,” Stephen said. “She should have had a long life ahead of her.”

“I agree.” Gemma glanced over at him. “Do you have a favorite Sir William Hamilton portrait?”

“I’m afraid that I do not have one,” Stephen replied. “I do, however, enjoy all of his paintings that depicted episodes from the plays of Shakespeare.”

“I take it that you enjoy Shakespeare.”

“I do,” Stephen said. “My love of Shakespeare came from my father. He was constantly quoting him to entertain my mother.”

Gemma moved to the next painting and Stephen followed suit. “Did your parents have a love match?” she asked.

“They did,” he replied. “I do not believe I have ever seen two people that were so in love.”

“How wonderful,” Gemma murmured.

Stephen clasped his hands behind his back. “Sadly, my father never was quite the same after my mother died. I don’t believe I ever saw him smile after that,” he admitted. “Although, I did not come around often due to my time in the Royal Navy.”

“Did you enjoy serving in the Royal Navy?” Gemma asked.

Stephen visibly tensed. “I did my duty to King and Country, nothing more.” His tone was curt, leading her to believe that he did not wish to discuss his time in the Royal Navy.

Gemma knew she should change subjects, but she wanted to keep prying in hopes that he would confide in her. “I understand that you were a captain of your own ship.”

Stephen kept his gaze straight ahead. “I was.”

“I imagine that would be quite the honor.”

A pained look came to his eyes. “It was an honor that I did not deserve.”

“Surely you don’t mean that,” Gemma pressed.

Stephen unclasped his hands and said, “Please excuse me for a moment.”