Fiona’s face lit up. “Ooh, I love snow!”
“Does the Clayburn barony not get any?”
“Not much, no. The mountains get plenty of snow, though.” It did occasionally snow in the barony, but snowfall was infrequent and scant. The white mountains, on the other hand, received heavy snow that melted into the rivers come spring. The brief annual surge in runoff tended to cause widespread flooding.
Perhaps due to the way the river meandered, the Hayes dominion, where Norman’s family lived, never seemed to suffer as much flood damage as the Clayburn barony. Fiona knew there was no use in making comparisons, but a part of her still wished something could be done about it.
“It’s a nice clean river with good fishing,” she explained, “but it causes so many problems.”
“Yeah, I guess it would.”
“On the bright side, there’s wetlands at the foot of the mountain, and a field of bluebells bloom there.”
Giles looked a bit perplexed by Fiona’s enthusiasm. “I can understand liking the bluebells, but does anything else good come of the wetlands?” The Bancroft fief also had wetlands, but he never gave them a passing thought. They were far from the mansion, and the only memory he had of them was the difficulties they created when he and some guests of the fief went on a hunting expedition.
“Well, yes, it’s home to many animals and plants,” Fiona said. “A wide variety of waterfowls flock there, so it’s a great place to sit and sketch.”
“Huh, I didn’t know you liked to make art as well as look at it.”
“Oh, um, I wasn’t talking about me. My uncle told me that.” Fiona hadn’t yet revealed to Giles the secret that her uncle was the artist Raymond, but she figured it was okay to tell him this much. Sketching wildlife at a picnic was a common enough practice.
After a pause, Giles nodded in understanding. “I always thought your uncle was just an art seller. I didn’t know he also made art.”
“Yes, and that’s why I’ve been wanting to bring Rudolph here at least once.” Rudolph was the boy Gordon had exploited to make his counterfeit paintings. He was to apprentice under a watchmaker, but Fiona wanted to take him out now and then to show him around the barony.
“Good idea,” Giles said. “I hope he likes it.”
“Me too.” I hope it inspires him to make his own paintings.
She did not intend to force Rudolph to paint, but he had such a talent for art. He might not have been able to return to professional art restoration, but she hoped he would at least take painting back up as a hobby.
She stared out the window for a moment, her mind filling with visions of Rudolph’s potential future, before she turned back to look at Giles. “We haven’t spoken much about our lands, have we?”
“You know, we haven’t,” he said.
“Does your land get lots of snow?”
“Yeah. It accumulates a lot every winter.”
“So the ground must be pure white everywhere!” Fiona giggled like a child, and Giles smiled softly.
“Nothing that grand, though I think you would probably enjoy it.”
“Ah… Am I annoying you?”
“Not at all.”
Their spirited conversation carried on, and Fiona did not look out the window again.
Eventually, the carriage came to a stop. The door opened as the driver announced their arrival, bewildering Fiona utterly. They had arrived not at the Clayburn barony but at the Bancroft earldom.
“Lord Giles…?”
“We still have plenty of time,” Giles assured her. “There’s something I want to show you.”
Confused by the unannounced detour, Fiona hesitantly took his hand and stepped out of the carriage. Giles’s butler, Dalton, greeted them with a reverent bow.
“Welcome home, my lord,” Dalton said. He exchanged a few words with Giles, then scurried away. There were no other servants in sight, so Fiona and Giles ambled alone down the spacious entry hall.
Giles always came to fetch Fiona for their outings, so this was the first time she’d visited his home since the day she came to return his cuff links. The paintings adorning the mansion were beautiful and captivating, but Fiona still did not know why Giles had brought her there. It didn’t look like he was taking her to the parlor to which she’d been escorted on her first visit.
“Um, where are we going?” she asked.
“You saw the painting in the hallway, didn’t you?”
“Yes, the first time I came here.”
“Then we’re going this way.” They reached the double doors at the end of the marble hallway, and Giles turned the key.
What room is this? Fiona thought. The heavy doors slowly opened to reveal a dimly lit room.
“Wait here a moment,” Giles instructed her.
“All right.”
Fiona waited in the hallway while Giles entered the room. She heard the sound of parting curtains, and then light streamed into the room. When Fiona saw what was inside, she lost the ability to speak.
“I wanted to bring you here much sooner,” Giles said apologetically.
The room was big enough to host a small party. Its walls were plastered with paintings, and its glass exhibition tables were filled with ceramics and jewelry.
No way… Is this room… Could it be…?!
It was the Bancroft collection room. Fiona stood stiffly in the doorway until Giles took her hands and brought her inside. Her feet wobbled and a smirking Giles steadied her before she could fall, but Fiona was oblivious. She had never dreamed that she might see this room with her own eyes.
The Bancroft family collection had been curated by the earl’s predecessors, who were known to have a keen eye for art. One could see many of their pieces in the entry hall of Bancroft townhouse or in their home gallery, but the collection room was said to be a cut above the rest. No mere acquaintance was permitted to enter, and not even family and close friends could enter it easily. Only the current lord and lady of the family and their direct heir were given the key.
Simply being invited into this room was a status boost, but Fiona’s speechless awe came from the beautiful sea of paintings suddenly appearing before her eyes. Oh, wow, she thought. Oh my goodness… I feel so dizzy.
She knew at a glance who had painted each piece, but even if she hadn’t had that knowledge, each painting would still have been more captivating than the last. One thing was immediately clear: Every work of art in the room was extraordinary.
It was like a mini museum. Fiona didn’t know where to look first.
“Take as much time as you like,” Giles said. He smiled in satisfaction to see Fiona standing there dumbstruck, her amber eyes wide open and rapidly blinking.
I can’t believe my eyes, Fiona thought.
Most people displayed art prominently in their home or other places where people might gather, but the Bancroft family’s circumstances were unique. In their home, the entry hall, hallways, and parlor displayed some famous pieces, but only a small fraction of their collection was on display to the public. This wasn’t due to an unwillingness to display the paintings; in truth, though not many people knew it, they simply owned far too many paintings to display them all.
And here Fiona was, in the presence of their secret collection.
Is that a Rogalio? This one is a Maurice. Oh my goodness, they even have an Ilya! Every way she turned, her eyes landed on wonders that dizzied her mind…and the rest of her.
“This is only a portion of our—Fiona? Watch out!” Giles called from a few feet away. She didn’t respond, and her thin frame wobbled. Giles ran over to her and caught her from behind, preventing her from falling, but her complexion suggested she might faint at any moment. “Fiona!”
“Oh…” Fiona said after a moment. “Breathe. I forgot to breathe…”
As Giles held her, she took a deep breath in and out as if relearning how to do so. Then she looked up at the ceiling and murmured absentmindedly,
“Oh, it’s so beautiful. Even the ceiling is painted… I just might go straight to heaven…”
Giles heaved an exasperated sigh. “Please don’t.” Once he was sure she had regained her footing, he released her shoulders and took her arm. “I know I said you could take all the time you liked, but I’m starting to worry about you. Let’s sit down for a moment.”
There was one sofa in the room, a chaise beneath the window. Fiona obediently let Giles take her to the sofa and sit her down, though her eyes remained glued to the paintings.
“Fiona. Slow breaths.”
Obeying the voice in her ear without question, Fiona took a deep breath in and out. Then, suddenly, something was covering both of her eyes. “Huh?”
“I’m worried you’ll forget to blink too.”
His hands were slightly chilly against her skin, and they completely obscured her vision—and sure enough, now that the inflow of visual information was restricted, her elevated mood finally began to level out.
Giles was right. She hadn’t been blinking. The dryness in her eyeballs stung.
“Yes, I think I did forget,” she told him.
“Well, I certainly didn’t expect you to be quite that awestruck.”
Giles’s breath tickled her ear when he let out a relieved laugh and removed his hand from her eyes. She opened her eyes to find not a wall full of paintings in front of her but Giles’s worried face. He was so close that her eyes took a moment to focus, but once they had, the grayish-blue eyes peering worriedly into hers brought her back to the present.
Ah! He’s so close. Way to scare a girl!
He was sitting close and staring into her eyes out of concern for her health because she had nearly fainted. In other words, it was her fault. Realizing this, she self-consciously took a breath to regain her wits, clutching her chest and willing herself to calm down. Oh, Fiona, get a hold of yourself!
Giles’s brows knit together. “Are you feeling ill?”
“N-no, it isn’t that. I’m fine. This was all just a little too intense for me, it seems.”