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Linnet gave a hesitant nod. “I believe he is…”

“So, he is sure to bring it up with Oswald,” said Fen in a small voice. “And be most put out.”

Linnet bit her lip before urging her, “You must not take on so.” She shifted Archie to her hip. “It would be most unfair of him to blame you. And unreasonable. After all, you had no prior notion of such a thing happening. Did you?” There was a questioning note in the last two words.

“No,” said Fen shaking her head emphatically. “I mean, I thought that Bess was acting a little oddly, but I never dreamt…”

“Better make sure Lady Eden Montmayne don’t lose her head and run off with a lute player,” said Cuthbert. “Or you’ll really be for it.”

Fen looked at him with horror, and he tipped her a wink. “You are not funny, Cuthbert,” she said, rallying herself.

“Really, I don’t think that at all likely,” said Linnet earnestly. “Eden is not at all the sort of person to ever do such a thing.”

Cuthbert spluttered with laughter. “I only said it in jest,” he said rolling his eyes. “Everyone knows she’s got a stick up…” he broke off his words hastily. “Everyone knows she’s stiff-necked, that one.”

Even though he was only joking, Fen found herself reaching for Eden’s note and scanning it anxiously for anything amiss with her remaining single friend. The only odd thing she could see was that Eden made no mention of the elopement, but perhaps she did not want to spread gossip. After all, Eden was very proper. “I must go and see her presently,” she said distractedly. The door opened, and Trudy came bustling in. “Ah, Trudy. Could you be so kind as to dress my hair?” she asked, rising up from the table.

“Of course, milady.”

“Aren’t you going to eat your sop in wine?” asked Cuthbert. He’d already emptied half the bowl.

“You finish it,” she told him. “But make sure that Meldon thinks I had it.”

“Understood,” he said with a cheeky grin.

As Trudy arranged her hair, Fen hastily scanned through Orla’s latest letter. She had to read it through twice before she could get the gist of it, the tidings were so astonishing. Her former sister-in-law wrote to tell her that they would soon be sisters-in-law once more! Orla had decided that Fen’s brother Gil was quite incapable of managing without a wife any longer. The most logical thing to do, she had decided, was to simply marry him herself. This way, her partisanship for Fen would not be a problem like it was at Thurrold. It seemed, Orla still found the Lady Colleen quite unbearable to be around, and Ambrose’s new mother-in-law, even worse. She described herself as a permanent ‘house-guest’ at Sitchmarsh Hall, where she had set about at once making things more respectable. Ambrose had disowned her for what he deemed shameful and unmaidenlike behavior in his sister. It seemed Gil was quite resigned to the fact that he was to marry Orla on Solstice Eve. Fen gasped as her brain reeled, processing the news. She could hardly take in more news at this point. The last time she had seen Gil he had described Orla as ‘a foolish old maid’, but it seemed she had brought him to heel since then! She was trying to picture them together, when Trudy patted her on the shoulder and told her that she was ready. Thanking her maid, Fenella jumped up and made her way to the Montmayne rooms, where she was enthusiastically received by Eden.

“Just wait until you see it,” said her friend leading her into the sitting area. There was a large canvas covered with a sheet in the corner. Eden steepled her hands. “Are you ready?” she asked, almost quivering with anticipation.

To be honest, Fen could not care less at this point about how the actual portrait turned out. She wanted to ask Eden if it was certain that signor Arnotti had eloped with Bess. Still, she took in Eden’s excitement and replied. “Oh…er, yes.”

Eden unveiled the canvas and looked expectantly at her.

Fen gasped and fell back as she took in the rosy beauty on the canvas with her voluptuous curves, bright eyes and lustrous skin. It was mostly the amount of skin on view that appalled her. Automatically her hand flew to her front to check her lacings were fastened. She stole a sideways look at Eden Montmayne, who was gazing at it in awe.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Eden announced proudly. “A masterpiece.”

Fen opened and closed her mouth again without a single word occurring to her. She turned back to the rich oils of the painting and winced at the parted pink lips and the hectic color in her cheeks. She looked like she was panting! Like she had been running around a field and then flung herself down haphazardly onto the nearest surface! She couldn’t fathom how signor Arnotti could have transformed the nice solid window seat she had been sat on, into this overstuffed monstrosity. She had a horrible feeling it wasn’t a chair at all. “What am I lolling on?” she asked stiffly. If Eden said it was the end of a bed, she was going to scream.

“It’s a cloud,” Eden explained. “Goddesses sit on clouds.”

“Goddesses?” she repeated, and felt absurd relief stealing over her. “So, this is not my portrait then?” She stole another look at it. It didn’t really look like her after all, she tried to convince herself.

“Of course it is you,” said Eden with a small frown. “But you have to allow for the artistic license. This is how signor Arnotti saw you.”

“But where’s my dress?” Fen asked. “My plum colored velvet? I don’t even own a…a …” She didn’t even know what to call the thing that was swirled around her. It looked like a wisp of sky blue silk. “Blanket this color,” she finished with dignity.

“You absolutely must get something in this color immediately,” said Eden earnestly. “It really draws attention to your beautiful fair skin.”

Fen stared at her friend a moment and wondered if her wits were disordered. She closed her eyes a moment, trying to think calm thoughts.

“Is something wrong Fenella?” asked Eden as if only just noticing her agitation. “Do you need to sit down?”

“What is my husband going to say?” asked Fen in a low anguished voice.

Eden blinked, looking surprised. “Lord Vawdrey? I am sure he will appreciate the superior quality of signor Arnotti’s work.”

Fen looked at her out of the corner of her eye. The younger woman looked entirely sincere. Perhaps she was wrong? Everyone said that Eden Montmayne had exceptional taste and an exemplary reputation. “Y-you think he will be pleased with it?” she asked biting on her thumbnail distractedly.