Words had been hovering on Gwen’s tongue ever since she’d looked closely at Bea’s painted flowers. She’d managed to hold them back for a bit, but even when she looked away, the mistakes in them continued to push at her until she couldn’t contain it anymore. If only they’d leave, then she could say it into her pillow, but the women were still here, and finally the words burst free.
“They’re not accurate,” she blurted. Her words weren’t exactly loud, but they did fill the room and all three ladies fell silent. Abigail was the first to recover.
“What’s not?”
She looked at Abigail to answer, trying not to see the badly drawn flowers. But Beatrix stood right beside Abigail, and there was no way tonotsee them.
“I study plants, you see. The petals and stamen…well, the anatomy of the flowers isn’t correct.”
Beatrix looked down at the painted blooms on her bodice. “I was trying to evoke an emotion. The feeling of the flowers—”
“But how can something inaccurate evoke anything but wrongness?” It was the truth of her understanding, but she could see by the ladies’ faces that she’d mis-stepped. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she looked at the floor. “It has been a long day and—”
“Tell me more,” Beatrix interrupted.
Abigail groaned. “Don’t encourage her. She’ll pester you with questions until you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Gwen frowned. “But I do know what I’m talking about. I havestudiedflowers.”
Beatrix stepped forward. “Ignore her. Talk to me.” She grabbed a painted daffodil off her bodice and thrust it forward. “Is this inaccurate? I was thinking of the sun when I painted it. I tried to make it like a burst of sunshine.”
“The trumpet is too wide. The stamen too short.” She looked up. “If you want to paint the sun, you should paint the sun, not a flower.”
“But the point of art is not accuracy, it is to evoke emotions. I was trying to suggest that the flower reminded me of the sun.”
Gwen thought about that, but she found the statement to be as illogical as it was inaccurate. “The sun is not an emotion. It is the sun.”
“Ha!” cried Abigail. “She has you there!”
“Stop, stop,” Camile said as she pushed her older sister out the door. “I apologize, Lady Gwen. We get so little company out here that we often forget that some people don’t like to argue about every little thing.” She shot Beatrix a hard look.
And here again, Gwen was at a loss. She hadn’t been arguing. She’d been trying to answer the question of what she thought about Camile’s flowers. But obviously Camile seemed to think it wrong, as she shot Beatrix a hard glare.
“Do you know,” Beatrix said in a kind of sing-songy voice, “that Camile is the youngest of us all, but she is certainly the bossiest.”
“Because I was the only one who listened to mother and Nanny about appropriate behavior.”
“That’s not true!” Abigail cried. “I listened. I just didn’t obey.”
Meanwhile, Camile touched Gwen’s arm. “I am terribly sorry. Do you think us terribly countrified?”
How was Gwen supposed to answer that? She hadn’t seen the woman’s movement, so had been startled by the touch on her arm. And while she was steeling herself to not recoil from the unexpected familiarity, the woman kept looking at her as if she wanted Lady Gwen to answer.
But Gwen couldn’t think of what to say. She hadn’t formed an opinion except that she had no idea what she was supposed to do. Unfortunately, she knew from experience that the longer she stayed silent, the more upset they would become. That’s what always happened when she didn’t know how to answer. But in this she was saved.
Lord Sayres came up the stairs with welcome news. “Tea’s served. Come along, sisters. I can see that you’ve been alone with Lady Gwen long enough.”
Abigail snorted. “It’s not alone if everybody’s here.”
“Nevertheless. Go see if there are any tarts. I’m famished.”
“I had planned to make them tomorrow,” Abigail continued. “I didn’t realize you were coming today.”
“Well, then I shall look for them tomorrow,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her cheek and then pushed her firmly toward the stairs. Beatrix and Camile followed as well. They huffed at him good naturedly. Both said something which Gwen immediately dismissed out of her thoughts. Instead, she focused on him. His broad shoulders, his easy smile, and the way his lips pursed when he looked at her.
What did his expression mean? Did he know she’d upset them already?
“Gwen?” he asked gently as the women were finally all heading down the stairs.