Page 13 of Romancing the Artist

Caroline glowered at the bust of a man with more curls in his hair than she’d ever managed on her own. Even with tongs.

“I cannot keep acting like a farm girl,” she told the stone figure, then gave his stern scowl a deep nod. “You are quite right. It is most unbecoming.” An artist learning her trade ought to try for a measure of sophistication in her appearance. Even when working out of doors.

Lady Inglewood came around the corner at that moment, and Caroline hastily straightened her posture before dipping a polite curtsy. “My lady.”

“Caroline.” Lady Inglewood put a hand over her heart. “Goodness, where did you come from? Here, let me help you.”

“That isn’t necessary, my lady.” Caroline hugged both book and blanket tight to her chest. “I was outside, sketching. But I think I must be late for our meeting in your workroom.”

“Time runs differently in a large home, does it not?” Lady Inglewood gestured for Caroline to walk with her. “We will go in together. And I’ll have someone fetch the blanket for you.”

Caroline’s cheeks burned. She’d created work for the staff, carrying things about with her. And nearly arrived late to the first lesson of the summer. Lady Inglewood had spent the morning with her housekeeper, and then given time to her children, and kept another appointment with her husband. She had told Caroline the details of her schedule the evening before, ensuring that Caroline knew she could spend her morning hours on her first full day at the castle however she wished.

And still, even with all that time, Caroline had arrived late, disheveled, and out of breath.

They went down a long corridor, Lady Inglewood’s gentle voice filling the vast space. “I am terribly sorry I wasn’t available this morning, but it will not happen again. I have made certain that we will spend much more time together the rest of the week. There is so much I wish to know about your work. And I have a surprise for you, too.”

“A surprise?” Caroline repeated, walking down a different, wider flight of stairs to the ground level. “You needn’t go to any trouble, my lady. I have no wish to disturb your schedule.”

Lady Inglewood responded with a cheerful laugh. “My dear, this summer, you are my schedule. We will spend as much time on art as we can stand, and then we will walk the beach for inspiration and create even more. We will visit my friends, so I may tell them how accomplished you are, and they will visit us here to better marvel at your skill.”

Tingles of anticipation crept up Caroline’s neck, down her arms, and made her fingertips twitch. She clutched the sketchbook tighter. Was she ready for this amount of focus on her work?

“But that is not the surprise, of course.” Lady Inglewood pushed open the last door between them and Caroline’s favorite room in the castle. Lady Inglewood had called it the Solarium. It was her workroom for her art, a room filled with light. Glass panes made up half the ceiling, allowing sunlight to flood the room. Easels stood in half a dozen places, along with comfortable but paint-speckled couches and high-backed chairs. Potted plants stood on columns, trailing ivy down to the floor. The windows stood open, letting in a breeze that came directly off the nearby sea.

The moment Caroline passed through the door into the room that smelled of the sea, of linseed oil, and earth, her soul expanded and all the pressing concerns in her mind lightened. In that room, anything was possible and most of her worries slipped away.

Caroline caught the countess’s secretive smile from the corner of her eye. “Do you not wonder about your surprise?”

She released a happy sigh and turned her full attention to her hostess and mentor. “Yes, my lady. I do very much.”

“I have invited Sir Thomas Lawrence to stay for a week at the end of August.”

For a long moment, Caroline could do nothing but stare. The name sank into her mind slowly, the significance of it not immediately present. Her tongue loosened when her thoughts finally caught up. “The president of the Royal Academy?” she whispered. “I will meet him?”

Sir Thomas Lawrence, a portrait painter, was the most talented and sought after artist in England. His advancement to president of the Royal Academy, patronized by members of the royal family, had occurred three years before.

The countess appeared positively giddy and rather unlike her usual graceful self as she rocked forward onto the tip of her toes. “Indeed. And we will show him your work. With what you have brought with you, and what we will work on this summer, we should have an excellent sampling of your capabilities.”

Caroline dropped the blanket on the floor and took a step back, then another, and slowly lowered herself into one of the chairs. She wasn’t ready. Her work wasn’t nearly good enough. Why would anyone connected with the Royal Academy give her even a moment’s attention? The humiliation of a man like Sir Thomas seeing her childish attempts at painting would surely make it impossible for her to ever hold a brush or appear in public again.

“Oh dear.” Lady Inglewood approached slowly, one hand outstretched in a calming gesture. “I have shocked you. Frightened you? Caroline, you are quite pale.”

Caroline’s first attempt to respond was merely a squeak, but then she managed to whisper, “No, my lady. I am all right. It is only that it is a most unexpected piece of news.” She started to babble, a thing she couldn’t stop herself from. “Sir Thomas Lawrence is rather famous, isn’t he? Everyone knows who he is. Of course you would be friends with an artist such as himself. And he must enjoy looking at your work, my lady. It will be such an honor to meet him.”

“Perhaps you will feel better about it when you have grown used to the idea.” The countess sounded hesitant rather than hopeful. “Your art is beautiful, Caroline. We will work to improve where you struggle, and Sir Thomas may help you find your purpose in art when he visits.”

That was the crux of the matter. Caroline wanted to find a home for her talent. Would it only ever be an amusement for her? Could she teach others? Would anyone ever commission her to create artwork for their homes?

She swallowed back all those fears as well as she could, but a sizable lump remained at the back of her throat. Forcing a smile, and hugging her sketchbook to her chest, she said, “I am certain you are right, my lady.” But she couldn’t speak of the impending visit and judgement a moment longer. “What are our plans for today?”

Chapter 5

Spending every waking hour in the solarium seemed the most intelligent use of Caroline’s time. Especially if she meant to prove herself a capable artist. But after three days of sketching ideas and learning new methods of mixing her own colors, she didn’t mind in the least when Lady Inglewood suggested they visit one of her dear friends.

Lady Inglewood drove them herself in a pony cart that somehow did not diminish her elegance in the slightest. Between the two women, Lady Inglewood’s four-year-old daughter kept them giggling with her observations of the world.

“The sky isn’t as dirty today, Mama. Yes’erday, it was all gray. Like soot.”