CHAPTER 2

Christopher sighed with irritation. He simply could not get the eyes right on his latest sketch, which was truly annoying for him. Perhaps it was because this was not a woman he knew. He was not drawing this image from a subject sitting in front of him, or even from memory.

He had been experimenting with creating something completely new recently, and it was a style he had been enjoying experimenting with.

Until now.

Perhaps it was his location, stifling his creativity.

There was something about London which made his mind feel smaller, like it was trapped in a cage. Even sitting by the parlor window did not help, because the view simply reminded him of where he was.

“Ah, there you are, Son. I was looking for you.”

Christopher barely even glanced up from his work to look at his mother. Lenora would not like that, she always needed to be acknowledged and heard whenever she spoke.

“You know, you do not have to do that now that you are home.” The disappointment laced her tone as she took a seat across from him. “You have spent the last year abroad in France and Germany…”

“Italy,” he corrected her, not that she would be too worried about being right. “It was Italy I spent time in, not Germany.”

“Yes, well you have spent the last year working on your art all around Europe…”

“And tutoring those who need me…”

“But now you are back, Christopher,” Lenora interjected. “And just in time for the Season. I think it would be best for you to use this time wisely. Instead of fiddling about with your pencils, you should mingle and get to know everyone. It would be a good idea for you to meet the women of London.”

Christopher tried his hardest not to let out a snort of derision. “I need to focus on my tutoring business, Mother. I need to attain myself some new clients.”

“There are plenty of eligible young ladies who will want to get to know you. Who will admire your artistic talents even. Your worldly knowledge also. I am sure that many people would love to hear all about your European adventures.”

“I do not think I have the time to attend balls and other such events…”

Christopher did not have the enthusiasm more than the time. Much as he knew that he would have to find himself a suitable match one day, this did not feel like the time to him. Not when he still had a lot that he wanted to achieve with his art business.

He truly wanted to get to a point where he did not feel like he was a disappointment to his family any longer. He wanted his mother and brother to respect the path that he had chosen for himself in a way that his father never would. That was why he had become so determined, so nomadic with his business since his father died. To show that he was worthwhile.

When he was not in London, it was easy for him to lose himself in his dedication to nurturing the creativity of his students. It was something that he truly enjoyed and got a lot of self satisfaction from. He loved being able to help others grow and find their artistic voice. He enabled and encouraged them in a way he would like to have been treated.

“Well, you must not forget, Christopher, that I am hosting a dinner later this evening.” Lenora clapped her hands together in excitement. “Graham and his wife, Julianna, will be here of course, with their daughter, Victoria. But more importantly, the Devereuxs.”

Christopher stared blankly at his mother, not sure if this name was supposed to mean anything to him.

“You know that we are hoping for a match between their lovely daughter, Henrietta and you, so if this goes well, you might not need to worry too much about the functions of the Season. If Henrietta is happy with you, then we can concentrate on that courtship instead.”

Christopher was never going to be able to muster up the enthusiasm that his mother had for a courtship, especially with someone he likely knew from his time in London, but could not remember.

“Does this have to be a matchmaking dinner?” he asked wryly.

His mother simply tutted at him. “Dress nicely and be polite. Is that too much to ask for? It does not have to be anything, but I do not think you should dismiss Henrietta Devereux. She has grown up into a graceful and beautiful young lady who always knows how to behave properly.” She gave her son a knowing look. “Since you have been away for over a year, it might be good for you to spend some time with someone who knows what is expected of them.”

All Christopher wanted to do was spend the evening perfecting his work. He knew that if he was given long enough, he could sketch these eyes perfectly, just as he saw them in his mind. But he already knew that his mother was a relentless woman who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted.

Well, he would attend the dinner, because he had no choice in the matter, and he would dress nicely whilst being polite, but if he did not feel anything for Henrietta then he already knew that he would not string her along.

When he eventually got around to finding a match, he knew it would have to be with a woman who understood him, and who he felt a connection with. At eight and twenty years old, he still had plenty of time to find the right woman to spend his life with.

Maybe someone who understood his passion for art, and maybe even enjoyed looking at paintings herself. Someone who was not just interested in hearing his stories about his travels, but who maybe wanted to see some of the world with him. Was that too much to ask?

***

She has transformed, Christopher had to admit to himself as he did his best to make polite conversation with the Devereux family. Henrietta was most certainly an elegant debutante, just as his mother had suggested, but Christopher was struggling to see if there was anything else to her. He had not yet noticed any depth to this young lady. She reminded him of his brother in many ways, the way she always seemed to be looking to others, to see how she was supposed to behave, and what others wanted her to do.

“So, Christopher, I can see you have met the lovely Miss Henrietta Devereux,” Lenora exclaimed excitedly. She was doing nothing to disguise her intentions here which made everything that much more embarrassing. “Henrietta also has an interest in art.”

It was obvious from the way that her cheeks shone red, this was not the case so Christopher decided to not even bother asking her any questions about her tastes. He simply offered her a warm smile, hoping that he could be polite enough to make her feel welcome, but not so warm it gave her the wrong idea.

It was an utter relief when their conversation was cut short by the announcement of dinner. The butler had no idea how much of a blessing this was. He did not need to say anything.

Christopher tactically took a seat at the other end of the table from his brother and wife. The final thing he desired was to endure Graham’s tedious, tiresome recital of his splendid existence and the flourishing state of his enterprise. The only good thing about his brother being at the dinner was the fact that he would draw all eyes on him, including their mother’s. Christopher did not wish to be the center of attention today…

Only things did not work out that way.

Lenora made sure to sit close to Christopher, and to ensure that Henrietta did too. It seemed that she was not yet done with her unwarranted matchmaking.

“So, Henrietta, Christopher…” his mother began, including them both in the conversation in a very informal way.

Probably trying her hardest to make them feel comfortable around one another, to expedite their closeness to push for a marriage proposal that was very unlikely to come.

Christopher could not help but wonder if she had done the same with Graham and his wife. Although she probably did not need to. Graham would always do whatever he was told to. If Julianna was considered the best woman for him, he would propose without even needing to be told that was what he needed to do. Just because he was so in tune with everything that was expected of him.

“Are you looking forward to the upcoming balls this Season?”

Henrietta lit up. “Ah yes, of course. It seems the season is filled with a plethora of engagements, and I am thoroughly excited to experience them all. I have heard such wonderful things.”

Lenora frowned at him as Christopher did not respond. She already knew that he was not thrilled to be a part of any of this, but still she seemed to expect him to lie. To be fake. This was why he hated London society. No one was authentic anymore. No one said what they were really thinking. It had not been this way throughout Europe. Not to the same extent anyway.

“I am excited to see the gowns that everyone will be wearing at these balls,” Henrietta continued, not sensing any burning tension between Christopher and his mother. “And the floral arrangements as well. I have heard that they can be quite spectacular. Really something to catch the eye.”

“I am sure that you will look the most beautiful of all, Henrietta. What do you think Christopher? She looks lovely even without a ball gown. So graceful and elegant.”

Luckily, Christopher did not need to respond because Henrietta was so utterly astonished by the compliment, that she could not resist talking about all the dresses that she had planned for the Season.

Christopher leaned back in his seat, detached from the conversation. He was a little disappointed by Henrietta’s lack of nuance. She seemed very excited to discuss superficial topics, but he was yet to see any depth. Without that, he would lack mental stimulation, which he was starting to realize was paramount for his future. He needed someone that he could talk to, about deep things. Someone who was interested in so much more than what the London ton was interested in. Gossip and societal events did not enthuse Christopher at all, and that was not something he could see changing.

“It can be like novels, Henrietta,” Lenora continued, perhaps sensing that her son had switched off. “What sort of books do you like reading?”

This piqued Christopher’s interest. She might not really enjoy art, but if there was a commonality to be found in the books that they read, then that would help. Even if they had read one of the same books, that would give them something to analyze together. Something that they could talk about well in to the evening…

Henrietta’s eyes widened, but with worry. “Ah, literature! I do enjoy the occasional novel, of course. The characters and their dilemmas provide a delightful escape… I do not know if I could pick out a particular one though…”

Disappointment crushed Christopher. There was nothing of substance with that answer. It was almost as if she did not read at all. She had not even talked about a genre she liked to lose herself in, much less the title of any book in particular. There was nothing that he could say to that, no way of responding at all. Even Lenora started to sense the hopelessness within him because she pushed Henrietta further, but did not really get anywhere.

The food had only just been served. How on earth was Christopher going to get through this?

***

Christopher had been looking forward to some respite as the gentlemen retired to the parlor for brandy, with the women taking time in the drawing room. He needed a break from his mother and her incessant attempts to push him ever closer to Henrietta.

But once his path crossed a tipsy Graham, Christopher started to realize that his troubles for the evening had only just begun…

“And here he is,” Graham announced with a manner befitting the showcasing of a highly esteemed canine companion. “My brother. The artist. The one who spends all his days lazing around.”

A few of Graham’s idiotic friends laughed as he slung his arm over Christopher’s shoulder, to keep him firmly fixed in place.

“How are things back in London after you have wasted over a year gallivanting all over the world? You must stay and regale us with all of your adventures. I am sure we are all terrible interested to hear what you have been up to for the past year.”

“I just want a drink…”

But Graham was not about to let Christopher out of his sights. Not when he had an audience who he needed to amuse by any means possible. He gripped on to his shoulders, making sure his dominance shone through. As if it was not enough for him to be the older brother with all the trimmings. Now he had to flash that around by making Christopher look bad too.

“How was Germany? Did you meet many women there? I have heard some incredible things about European women and I would love to know how true they are…”

“I am not having this conversation with you.” Seeing the sheer determination in Graham’s burning gaze only suffocated Christopher more. He could not cope with everyone looking at him like that, with the expectation that he was going to be their jester.

He did not care for Graham’s thinly veiled critiques of Christopher’s life choices. He needed to get out of there, and quickly.

“I actually must get some air.” Christopher forced himself away from his brother’s grip. “But I am sure I will have lots to tell you all when I return. I will recall my best ones.”

That must have been enough because Graham did not fight him anymore. That did not mean he was done. Christopher heard a few comments being made about him as he exited the room, which only pushed him further out of the house.

Christopher kept on walking until he reached his favorite gentlemen’s club, wanting congenial company. Anything had to be better than spending time with his family when they were trying everything that they were trying to do tonight.

“Christopher, I did not know that you were coming tonight!”

Christopher was surprised by the sight of his closest friend, Lord Elliot Belmont, sitting at the bar with a drink in hand, and a friendly welcoming smile on his face.

“Hello, Elliot. I needed a break from the family.”

Elliot laughed as Christopher took a seat beside him. “But you have not been back from Europe for a very long time. Pray, how can they vex you so, already?”

Christopher scoffed. “Oh, you have no idea. My mother is determined to keep me here in London, to stop me from travelling abroad again, so she is doing everything that she can to matchmake. She wants me to marry Miss Henrietta Devereux.”

“Well, she is quite beautiful…” Elliot trailed off when he spotted the expression on Christopher’s face. “I understand. Navigating persistent family expectations can be a real challenge. It is not the easiest to choose who you would like to be married to, when your parents are involved. But do know that they have your best interests at heart. They do always want what is right for you.”

Christopher ordered a drink and hung his head low. “I do not want to be married to Henrietta, however beautiful she may be. I can not muster the right enthusiasm over superficial courtships or securing a match just to satisfy society’s ideals. But much as I try to tell my mother, she does not understand my real goal. I came home with the hope that I could nurture students here, and expand my tutoring services in London. To prove myself. But now I am wondering if I should have returned at all. Things were so much easier when I was away.”

It was obvious that Elliot did not really know what to say, but just having him around, being kind and comforting rather than brutish like his brother was preferable.

At least here, Christopher felt like he could talk without the pressure of judgement resting down on his shoulders.

“It is always this way, during the Season,” Elliot acknowledged. “You are simply lucky that you managed to miss out on a year or so of it. The pressure is always going to be there, especially as we grow older.”

“If only we could spend more time hiding away in gentleman’s clubs such as this one,” Christopher laughed, feeling a little lighter simply from being allowed to share his burden. “Exploring what we want to do, living life at our own pace without any pressure from others. Life would be so much simpler for all of us.”

“Hear, hear.” Elliot raised his glass and clinked it against Christopher’s in a cheers gesture. “It certainly would be so much better. Unfortunately, being born into a family with a title and an inheritance keeps us out of the work houses, but leaves us with pressures the working class would not even begin to understand.”

Now that was something Christopher could drink to. Sometimes he thought that it would be so much easier to be born without pressure. Then he could simply be whoever he wanted to be.