“Yes. Thank you, Lord Giles.” They shared a smile, their burdens lifted from their shoulders.
Thus, it was decided that when the season was over and Fiona returned to the Clayburn barony, Rudolph would come with her.
Drinks and refreshments were set out afterward, and, feeling peaceable, the grown-ups held a status update meeting. Fiona was particularly concerned about her little sister Cecilia’s health, but Hans reassured her that Cecilia was doing well.
“I know people don’t catch influenza this time of year,” Fiona insisted. “Really, I do. But that silly girl never lets on when she’s not feeling well.”
“Fear not, Miss. The doctor says there’s nothing wrong with her.” Cecilia was seen by a doctor regularly, and apparently, in Fiona’s absence, she had received a clean bill of health. “She did seem lonesome when you first left home, but Miss Olga came to keep her company.”
“Oh! Olga visited?”
“Lord Norman visits nearly every day as well. The three of them are often together.”
Cecilia was on the threshold of adulthood, but between having poor health that kept her indoors and a father who was not one for social affairs, she still did not have anyone she could call a friend. Other than her own family, her only acquaintances her age were Norman and Olga, Fiona’s longtime close friend. Fiona beamed radiantly to hear that not only had Norman, a regular at the Clayburn estate, visited, but Olga was tending to Cecilia as well.
“Yes, she and Miss Olga have had many a merry conversation,” Hans told her.
Fiona giggled. “Yes, they’re both bookworms.”
She imagined they must have had lively discussions about books and novels they had both read. In actuality, however, their conversations began and ended with a dissection and verification of all the rumors involving Fiona and Giles. But rather than tell Fiona that, Hans simply gave her a penetrating stare. “But Miss Fiona, during your stay at the marquess’s estate you have blossomed into a lovely lady.”
“Hans?”
“You’ve finally taken an interest in clothing and hairstyles; I am beyond pleased to see it. A marchioness’s training is certainly nothing to sneeze at.”
“Whoa, Hans, easy there!”
Hans had watched Fiona grow up since birth. Seeing her in that dress felt like seeing his own granddaughter come of age. While Hans was supportive of her job at the gallery, he still was thrilled to see her dressed elegantly in age-appropriate, stylish fashion.
He wished her poor mother could have seen her like this. Tears welled in his eyes and threatened to spill over, making Fiona feel awful. Hey, don’t be so happy about this dress! Now I can’t complain about my corset being too tight!
Each day since her arrival at the marquess’s estate her corset had been laced tighter and tighter, but the maids boldly asserted that it was still too loose every time they dressed her. It was only by the grace of God that she had gotten them to back off that morning after they insisted they could tighten her just two notches more. To Fiona, who wasn’t used to corsets, it was more than tight enough.
It made her skin prickle anxiously to think about how complicated her dressing routine would be for her audience with the king if her daily wear was already such a big production. She loved pretty clothes, but the burden of dressing like a proper lady was taking an invisible toll on her.
As Fiona inquired about Cecilia like a good big sister, Giles sat relaxed beside her, holding his cup in one hand. Though they sat on an old sofa in a cramped office, they looked like a work of art. If somebody were to make a bromide of them, it would be quite popular. The expression on his chiseled face was so relaxed and peaceful, an onlooker would never imagine that he was known as the Icy Scion. As they conversed, he even smiled lightly at times.
Someone who had known Giles before the previous month might have suspected him of being body-snatched—that included Dennis, who had served for more than a year in Giles’s platoon. Though he had recently grown accustomed to this new Giles, when Giles caught his gaze, Dennis panicked and pushed the conversation onto Roche.
“Th-that’s right, I just remembered! Mr. Roche, you had some news for Miss Fiona?”
“Oh, right. I did.”
“News for me? Did something happen?”
Dennis gave her daily updates, but with it decided that everyone would gather at Gallery Roche, she had yet to receive the day’s news from Dennis. Fiona had not been informed of any pressing matters, so she looked at Roche inquisitively, unable to predict what it might be.
Roche smiled at her and said, “Miss Fiona, we received word from Reggie.”
“Oh! Really?” Fiona jumped to her feet, her eyes gleaming. Roche held out a hand and told her not to get carried away, but Fiona eagerly pressed him for more.
“The message was, ‘He said the painting would be finished soon, so maybe that’s what this is about. If we make the delivery arrangements quickly, it ought to arrive while I’m still in the capital!’”
The painting was to be delivered to Gallery Roche, so if it came after she returned to the barony, she would miss it. Even she could see how giddy she was acting, but nothing excited her more than her uncle’s paintings.
Then Roche followed her giddy high with news she would never have expected. “He sent the painting.”
“He…sent it?”
“Yes. It ought to arrive in one to two weeks at the earliest.” Seeing the return of Fiona’s former look of bewilderment, Roche cocked his head. “What’s this, Miss Fiona? You’re always so excited when Reggie sends a painting. What’s different this time?”
“N-no, it’s not different. I am excited, and I do want to see it as soon as I possibly can…but, um, Mr. Roche, when exactly did you get this message from him?”
“Let me think. I believe it was quite a while ago.”
“Oh no. But, Mr. Roche…”
Fiona rarely complained about anything, but her disappointment was obvious. Giles turned to look at her, surprised to hear an edge in her voice.