Page 1 of A Question of Character

Prologue

“You must see it from my perspective, George. You are ruining everything!”

The man before him scoffed. “What does it matter to you? There has never been a point where you did not come out on top or emerge victorious. I am certain this is but a minor inconvenience.”

He shook his head. “You are my friend—or I thought you were. How can you take my name in such a manner and use it so abominably? I would never—”

His counterpart laughed derisively. “Yes, you are quite the saint.”

Shock infused him, and he felt something akin to regret as he next spoke. “Our acquaintance is at an end, then.”

“If that is how you see it.” Standing from the seat, his former companion offered him a mocking bow and sauntered from the room.

one

A Chance Encounter

“Elizabeth, the carriage is ready.” Madaline Gardiner called to her niece from the bottom of the stairs.

“Coming!” Elizabeth grabbed her bonnet, pelisse, and gloves and hurried from the room. It was early March, and she had arrived two days ago to visit her aunt and uncle in London for the season.

Mrs. Gardiner waited in the front hall, fastening the ribbons of her own bonnet beneath her chin while a maid adjusted the folds of her shawl. Though scarcely above thirty, she possessed an elegance that had little to do with fashion. She had the rare ability of making every person in her company feel entirely at ease, whether receiving distinguished guests at her table or bargaining cheerfully with a fruit seller in Covent Garden.

“You have remembered your gloves?” she asked.

Elizabeth held them aloft with an exaggerated flourish.

“And your sketchbook?”

Elizabeth’s smile broadened. “I should never forget that.”

“So you say, though I distinctly recall your leaving it upon the pianoforte the last time you visited us.”

“I was considerably younger.”

“By nearly three years,” her aunt replied dryly.

“That is an age at my time of life.”

Mrs. Gardiner laughed and slipped her arm through Elizabeth’s. “Come along before your uncle decides we have abandoned him altogether.”

Outside, London already bustled despite the early hour. Carriages rolled steadily along the broad street, tradesmen hurried about their business, and servants crossed before elegant houses balancing baskets or parcels with practiced ease. A milk cart rattled past, followed closely by a gentleman on horseback whose groom struggled to keep pace.

Mr. Gardiner stood beside the waiting carriage, speaking with the coachman. He turned at their approach.

“At last,” he said with exaggerated relief. “Another quarter hour and I feared I should be obliged to visit the exhibition alone.”

“You would have survived admirably,” Elizabeth replied.

“I should have endured it. Survival is another matter.”

He assisted the ladies into the carriage before taking his own place opposite them.

“I confess,” Elizabeth said as the carriage lurched forward, “I have looked forward to today ever since Aunt mentioned the exhibition.”

“You shall not be disappointed,” said Mr. Gardiner. “There are several new landscapes said to be excellent, and one marine painting that has been much admired.”

“I shall reserve my opinion until I have seen it.”