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“Of course,” nodded Eden reassuringly. “He will recognize the unmistakable talent of the artist, and how he has brought out the luminous quality of his subject.”

Fen took a deep breath and turned back to the canvas. She ventured another look at it, but couldn’t manage it without a wince. She was aghast by her bare shoulders and arms. The glimpses of her bare legs through the transparent drapings. “Perhaps you’re right,” she quavered. “I’m afraid I am just too ill-educated to appreciate such things.” After all, she simply wasn’t sophisticated. She was the biggest bumpkin in all of Aphrany.

“Oh you mustn’t say so,” protested Eden. “After all, you put your faith in him when no-one else did.”

“I was really only led by you,” Fenella said raspily. “I-I must write to signor Arnotti to thank him for all of his hard work. Indeed, he has not yet received full payment for the painting.”

A slight frown crossed Eden’s face. “It’s highly irregular but it seems he has up and left us already, and without a forwarding address. We can only hope that he will contact us in due course.”

“Well, now that it’s all over, I will certainly have a lot more time on my hands,” said Fen weakly. “I – er – the canvas is so big I hardly know where to put it.” She really tried to keep the dismay out of her voice, but had a horrible feeling she had failed miserably. “Perhaps I could have it sent to my brother’s until the re-build has happened at Vawdrey Keep…”

“Oh, but first you must allow it to be exhibited here in the palace!” Eden interrupted her looking shocked. “This is signor Arnotti’s masterpiece. Indeed, I am very surprised that he did not wait to see how it was received.”

Fenella looked at Eden. “Display it?” she echoed blankly.

“But of course!”

Fen took a deep breath. “I’m afraid I would have to ask Lord Vawdrey,” said Fenella in a firm voice. “My own inclination is that it would not be at all proper but…I know I am sadly provincial in my ways.”

Eden broke out in a relieved smile. “Oh, of course! That will be fine. I am convinced that Lord Vawdrey will think the painting most exceptional and deserving of an audience.”

Fen avoided looking at the canvas again by averting her eyes from all that pale fair skin. Did she really have so much of it? And couldn’t signor Arnotti have made her look a little more svelte? Her palms felt damp from the sweat she had broken out into. She just wanted to get out of the room and never see that painting again, as long as she lived.

The problem with Eden reassuring her, was that for all her polish, she simply was not a married woman. After the disaster that was Mr Entner’s play, she would not allow herself to be fooled again. She had already brought utter disgrace onto her husband. There was surely only so much of it that he could stand.

“Well, then,” said Eden looking a little deflated. “Shall I have the portrait delivered to your rooms then, for Lord Vawdrey to view it first?”

Eden was definitely disappointed with her reaction, thought Fen guiltily. “Yes, if you would I’d be most grateful,” she said. “Why is it that you have the portrait, may I ask?”

Eden’s black eyebrows snapped together. “Oh,” she said as if being reminded of something unpleasant. “I don’t mean to shock you, Fenella,” she said gravely. “But I’m afraid there has been a most unfortunate development. Signor Arnotti has taken a most imprudent step which is sure to impact on his livelihood.” She pursed her lips disapprovingly and Fen waited.

“Which was?” she prompted when Eden seemed loath to go into details.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no nice way of putting it. It seems he has eloped with Lady Elizabeth Hartleby.” Fen shut her eyes a moment. So it was true. “I apologize,” said Eden. “I know you are a friend of Bess’s but it’s apparently quite true.”

Fen sat down heavily in the nearest chair, as the certainty of the latest scandal overwhelmed her. Quite suddenly, her only course of action lay open before her, in a blinding flash of light. She would take herself off to Sitchmarsh, before her husband was forced to send her. There could be no doubt of it now, she thought numbly. After all, had he not already vowed to send her away, after the first disgrace? And since then, there had been another three scandals he did not even know about! Two friends eloping and this scandal of a portrait… There was no other option. She would pre-empt the disgrace. Gods be blessed for Orla, her ex- and soon to be sister-in-law, for she had given her the perfect excuse. She would salvage her pride and let it be known she was leaving court for her brother’s impending nuptials. “Forgive me, Eden,” she said impulsively. “But you see, I’m rather in a hurry. My brother has written to me that he means to be wed on the morrow.”

“On Solstice Eve?” asked Eden in surprise.

“Yes, my family are all very fond of the Solstice celebrations,” said Fen brightly. “I must needs set off within the hour to ensure I reach Sitchmarsh Hall in time.”

“Oh but surely-?” Eden started, her face falling. “You will wait for the King’s party to return?”

“Alas, I would that I could,” said Fen springing out of her seat. “I’m just glad I got to come and say my farewell to you in person.”

“You will return to Court, after the wedding of course,” urged Eden, clearly perturbed by Fen’s news.

“Oh yes,” said Fen glibly. “When my husband recalls me.” Which he won’t, thought Fen as a sop to her conscience for lying.

Eden kissed her cheek and wished her a happy Solstice and Fen remembered she had a present for her. She would have to send Cuthbert along with it presently. For now, she needed to pack her trunks. It wouldn’t take long, she thought as she made her way back. She would only take a few gowns. She would not need the court finery or the jewelry after all. She picked up her pace, dashing a hand across her eyes whenever tears threatened to fall. There was no alternative. She simply could not face seeing Oswald retreat from her to that glacial politeness that simply froze her. This portrait was the final nail in the coffin of her marriage. There was simply no way that he would countenance keeping so disastrous a wife at court. He would try to be kind, but his disappointment would be evident, and her heart would simply break. She was useless, quite useless at this courtly way of life. Every way she turned, she ran into a dreadful scandal. Fen barreled through the door to their rooms with a muffled sob.

“Why milady,” said Trudy in dismay, looking up from where she was folding linens. “Whatever’s happened?”

Fen gulped. “Nothing of import, Trudy,” she lied in a wobbly voice. “I know it is unexpected, but I – er – need to pack some things together for a journey into the country.”

“When?” asked Trudy sounding shocked.

“Now Trudy, in all haste. You see, my brother is to be married tomorrow, in Sitchmarsh where I’m from. He has written asking me to attend,” she improvised.