Chapter Thirteen
The topic of the miniature was on everyone’s minds that evening.
Lady Augusta at last felt well enough to join them for dinner, although she ate little. Even so, Hecate was most pleased that she had come down, since the company would do her as much good as food at this point in her recovery.
Her eyes were still sad, her face too thin, and the sighs still too near the surface. But overall, she was certainly an improvement over the woman who had arrived the previous week.
“May I see it?” She held out her hand as the tiny brooch was being gently passed around the table.
“Of course.” Hecate nodded as Finn rose and carried it over to her.
“How lovely,” said Lady Augusta. “Yes, I concur with the notion that this is Cosway. His touch is unmistakeable.” Her lips curved into a slight smile. “I met him, you know.”
“Really?” Hecate’s eyebrows rose.
“Indeed. This was before he became…unwell,” replied Augusta. “Maria Cosway, his wife, was an interesting woman in her own right. It was through her that I met Richard.” She toyed with her pudding, her expression calm, but introspective. As if she was looking back into her past. “Such talents, both of them. He with his exquisite art, and Maria with her music and progressive ideas about the education of girls.”
“He is ill?” asked Finn.
Augusta nodded. “His mind, you know. He became much troubled over the past few years. He needed some help, and I understand he was institutionalised for a while.” She sighed. “Such sadness for them.”
“And yet the beauty of his art will remain long after we’re all gone, won’t it?” Phoebe’s practical statement made them all nod.
“Beauty never truly dies, Miss Phoebe,” said Finn, with a smile. “I’m sure you’ve both had your portraits painted many times over.”
“Well, yes,” agreed Hestia. “Although for some reason the artists always wanted us to be goddesses or something.”
“That got our clothes off, didn’t it?” chuckled Phoebe. “It got to the point where we had run out of myths, but the artists always invented new ones.”
Hestia nodded. “We didn’t care much. It paid some bills.”
“And I’m sure your beautiful bodies are ornamenting the walls of several very fine stately homes,” grinned Finn. “With or without clothes.”
“I bloody well hope so. Over the fireplace, if we’re lucky. Those studios were damn cold most of the time so I’d like my arse to be warm for eternity.”
Phoebe’s blunt comment made them all laugh, even Lady Augusta choking out a guffaw.
When the merriment died down, Augusta handed the brooch back to Hecate. “And what shall you do with it now?”
“I intend to see if I can locate the owner,” answered Hecate. “Since we have such clear provenance, we need to find out who this Declan Willows was, and why he was giving such a valuable piece to Mary Willes. It would help if we could learn more about either one, but no matter what comes to light, I want this to go to the rightful owner.”
She looked down as it rested in her hand and let her mind wonder over the question of who might have owned it.
She blinked as her palm warmed a little. And then got hotter.
“Oh my,” she breathed.
“Hecate…” Finn half rose from his seat even as Dal went to stand behind Hecate’s chair.
“No, it’s all right…just a moment…”
Hecate let her thoughts clear and opened that strange portal within her mind. Images fluttered around her hand—faces, faded and blurred, but clearly those of a woman and a man. The woman was older, in a cap, and the man had unusual eyes. Eyes that reminded her of…
“Who…” she whispered. “Who are you?”
As if in answer to her question, he turned and smiled at her from the faint vision above her hand.
And she looked into eyes that were a mirror of her own.
*~~*~~*
Finn watched Hecate as she drifted into a place where he knew he could not follow. She was still there, sitting at the table, with the remains of their meal scattered over the surface.
Everything was as it should be for him, but Hecate’s face was locked into expressionless perfection. A statue of some fantastical queen, or Helen of Troy, Venus, Aphrodite…her visage would have outclassed all the classic beauties, leaving them wanting.
Her eyes were still that same strangely alluring mix of teal and blue, but he knew they were unfocussed, seeing things only she could see. He wondered at her gift yet again, knowing that no matter how long he was in her presence he would never really know her on that particular level.
She had come to his rescue and pulled him back from the doorway into the beyond. A feat he still had difficulty understanding.
But he owed her his life. That was without question. And every day he gave thanks to the Fates for ensuring their paths would cross.
He was also coming to the realisation that every day she stole a little piece more of his heart. Something that was both wonderful and frightening. Wonderful because she was who she was…a woman of such charm, beauty and sweetness that no man could ever wish for more than to receive her affections in return.
And frightening because he had no true idea of who he was, or what he had to offer her. He was certain he was no titled gentleman, and did not have lands or a fortune to lay at her feet.
All he had was his heart and he didn’t know if that would be enough.
But as he watched her blink her way back into the room with her guests, he knew as sure as the sun would rise on the morrow, that he would never view another woman the same way. He was over halfway to being in love with her.
What he was going to do about it…well, that remained to be seen. For now, he’d just enjoy the knowledge and try not to press her into anything she wasn’t ready or willing to explore. And that thought made him clench his teeth. He had a feeling that patience wasn’t his strong point.
“You are well, Miss Hecate?” Dal touched her shoulder gently.
She nodded. “Thank you, Dal. Yes. A bit of a vision…” She glanced around her, seeing the twins sitting wide-eyed across from her, and Lady Augusta looking worried.
“One of my little burdens to bear,” she chuckled. “Every now and again I find something that speaks to me. Quite loudly.”
“I saw a man who did that,” nodded Phoebe. “Only he was in the circus. Charged a sixpence, and said he could find things you’d lost.”
“You wasted sixpence to try and find Percy Standish,” snorted her sister. “Turns out he’d married two weeks ago.”
“Well the man told us where he was,” said Phoebe defensively. “We didn’t know. So I’m thinking he earned his sixpence.”
“It was in the paper the day before, silly,” sighed Hestia. “I found it on a table when we got home.”
Phoebe rolled her eyes.
“Anyway,” said Lady Augusta, cutting off any further bickering, “what can you tell us, Miss Hecate? About the miniature, that is?”
“I think I may have a sixpence, somewhere,” grinned Finn, happy to see a smile warm her eyes.
“You don’t. Believe me, I checked,” she grinned back. “Very well, then. If you must know, I saw a gentleman’s face, and he had eyes just like mine.” She held up her hand, forestalling the questions. “I do not know my Irish relatives, so it might well be one of them. But I also saw an older woman. In a cap of sorts. A servant perhaps? I really cannot say.”
“Hmm,” said Finn, thinking over her words. “Not a lot of help, but more than we had before. A place to start, I say.” He looked around. “What say you?”
A chorus of “aye’s” greeted his question, with the exception of an “indeed” from Dal.
“We could ask Digby and Harvey if they’d allow us to go with them into the village,” said Phoebe.
“That’s right. They’re going to see about more wood tomorrow. I’ll wager someone knows who used to live hereabouts. Or could point us in the right direction at least,” added Hestia.
“You plan on returning to the farm?” Lady Augusta’s eyebrows rose. “I am surprised you find it entertaining…”
“They’re ever so nice, my Lady. Really. You should see how hard they’re working on the building.”
Phoebe nodded in agreement. “They want to finish as much as they can before winter sets in. So we…” she nodded at Hestia, “sort of said we’d help with painting and the like. And…” she hesitated a little before lowering her voice “Hestia can sew.”
It came out as a whisper, as if those listening might be shocked into apoplexy.
“How wonderful,” said Hecate. “Just the very thing for the poor lads. So much work on their hands, it will take curtains and other things to make the house into a home, no matter how good the structure is.”
“Just what we said, Miss Hecate.” Hestia nodded. “And I don’t, in the usual way of things, talk about sewing, but there’s been a few times when it came in handy…”
“I’m sure,” agreed Hecate.
Finn bit his lip against a laugh. “’Tis a talent to be much praised, Miss Hestia. The two gentlemen must be very thankful to have met you.”
“As long as it’s all right with you, my Lady,” Phoebe looked at Lady Augusta with uncertainty. “If you need us, we should be attending you…”
“Not at all, my dears. You did me a great service by accompanying me on my journey. Now that I am feeling a little more the thing, you must take every opportunity to be useful to others. This seems to be a time where your abilities will be most welcomed, so you have my blessings.”
Both girls applauded and Finn could have sworn he saw Lady Augusta tip Hecate a quick wink.
Farmer Digby and Farmer Harvey had less chance of remaining single than a trout on a line had of escaping the baking dish.