CHAPTER 15

Verity always loved the art exhibitions at Somerset House.She very much enjoyed examining and exploring the work of others, and even imagining her own paintings hanging up on the walls someday. That might not be a very likely dream, but that did not stop her from playing the little fantasy in her head regardless.

Only she could not fully enjoy herself at this exhibition, because of her company. Her brother had arranged for her to spend the day with Ambrose and his daughters, who were making the whole experience very unpleasant.

"This is not nice to look at," Ambrose scoffed as he dismissed yet another beautiful art piece. "The color choice is absolutely dreadful. I cannot believe that anyone would even look at such a thing."

"It's more about the emotion than the coloring…" Verity attempted, but he seemed to not hear her. Either that or he had chosen to ignore her.

"And this. It's so simplistic, anyone could do it."

Verity felt a little sick at this remark. How could this man fail to appreciate the skill and emotion poured into each brush stroke? She could not expect him to have all the same interests as her, but it still hurt to have something she adored so much, something that was so important to her, dismissed in such a manner. Especially because he knew that this was what she loved. It almost seemed like he was trying to be cruel to her.

But why?

What would be the point of that?

A coldness trickled down her spine as Ambrose moved on to the next painting, without giving any of them the proper time and care that they so desperately needed and deserved as well. These paintings were created to be studied and admired, not treated as if they were absolutely nothing.

"Now this one, I like." Ambrose rested his hands on his hips while he stood in front of a painting of a ship. "This one I can appreciate. A man has worked hard on this."

A man.

As if a painting could only be appreciated if it was created by a man,

Verity was distracted by the sound of Amelia and Cordelia giggling behind her back. They were not exactly being discrete about laughing at her, which only made this whole thing even more unpleasant.

She was clearly wearing the wrong thing according to them, or she had said something that they deemed ridiculous, or perhaps it was her mere presence that was the issue. Either way, discomfort flowed through Verity's veins. She could not wait for all of this to be over.

As she caught sight of Louisa, it seemed like her ladies maid wasn't enjoying this very much either. She did not look impressed on Verity's behalf.

"Oh, I see Lord Pembrokeshire," Ambrose suddenly announced. "He is an old business acquaintance of mine. I must go and speak with him. Please, excuse me."

If only he were leaving her alone for a moment of respite, rather than with his daughters who had distain written all over their faces.

"Oh, I am just going to see that painting over there. I have… been wanting to see it for a very long time…"

She needed to get away from Amelia and Cordelia. She needed a moment to breathe, so without hesitation, Verity slipped away from them to immerse herself in the artwork. She found much more solace in the beauty and emotion captured on each canvas than she ever could with the people she had come here with.

If only she could have a companion who understood art, or who at the very least was interested in it. Then she might be able to enjoy herself more.

It was hard to have so many exciting opinions about everything, and no one to share it with.

Oh my…

Verity found herself standing in front of a particularly striking landscape, one that truly got her heart racing. There was something deep about this, and she needed to immerse herself in that for a moment. The landscape was almost on the brink of a storm. That wasn't shown, but Verity could sense it coming. This was the calm moment before the storm was unleashed.

Beautiful, Verity thought to herself as she mentally allowed the scene to surround her.

This was what she loved about landscapes; she could imagine herself within them. Portraits simply did not offer the same freedom for the viewer. Verity felt the meadow grass beneath her feet and if she inhaled deeply enough, it was almost as if she could smell the flowers. But it wasn't just the landscape on the brink of a storm, Verity felt like the painter was as well. There was something going on in the artists life that made it on to the canvas, whether they wanted it to or not.

That often happened to Verity. She found her feelings on the canvas even without realizing it until it was too late.

"Lady Verity."

She jumped as someone spoke her name.

Verity had gotten so lost in the painting and everything that she could unravel on the canvas, that she had all but forgotten the other people at Somerset House.

A flush of embarrassment crossed her face as she turned to see who was talking to her.

Philip?

"Lord Eilendale," Verity gasped as she curtsied at him. "Good afternoon."

He remained a respectable distance away from her, but that did not mean Verity could not feel the heat radiating from his body.

"This is my sister, Lady Georgina Easton," Philip declared as he introduced the people beside him. "And Lord William Darlington."

"It's a pleasure to meet you…"

The introductions had barely finished by the time Amelia and Cordelia sidled up beside Verity, fluttering their eye lashes at Philip. It was obvious that they were trying to ingratiate themselves with the Marquess of Eilendale, which Verity found endlessly frustrating.

So, she wasn't good enough for them, they could be nothing but terrible to her, but the first sight of a man with a title sent them wild?

"Lady Verity, are you not going to introduce us?" Amelia asked while giggling. "I did not know you had so many friends."

Verity forced a polite smile, though she felt the tension simmering just beneath her skin.

She glanced at Philip, hoping he would not notice her discomfort.

"Of course," she said, her voice steady. "This is His Lordship, the Marquess of Eilendale, Lord Philip Easton. And these are his companions, Lady Georgina Easton and Lord William Darlington."

Amelia and Cordelia curtsied; their movements graceful but their eagerness sickeningly obvious.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord," Amelia said, her tone overly sweet.

Philip nodded politely. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Amelia, Lady Cordelia."

Verity felt the urge to escape again, to lose herself in the art that offered a reprieve from the social dance happening around her. But she knew she could not leave Philip and his companions to the wolves.

"Is your lordship enjoying the exhibition?" she asked, hoping to steer the conversation towards something more pleasant.

Philip smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "I am, indeed. There is much talent displayed here. I was particularly taken with the landscapes."

Verity's heart lifted. "Oh, I adore the landscapes. There is something so immersive about them."

"Yes," Philip agreed, his gaze locking on to hers. "They have a way of drawing you in, making you feel part of the scene."

Amelia and Cordelia exchanged glances, clearly bored by the topic.

"We were just discussing the ship painting over there," Cordelia said, pointing towards Ambrose's chosen piece. "It's very striking, do you not think?"

Philip acknowledged Cordelia with a polite nod, but then gently redirected the conversation back to Verity.

"Indeed, it is. However, I am curious, Lady Verity, what are your thoughts on this particular exhibition? Do you have a favorite piece so far?"

Verity felt a rush of gratitude for Philip's kindness and genuine interest. She smiled, her discomfort fading as she engaged in the lively discussion about the artwork.

"Actually, there is one piece that stands out to me," she began, gesturing toward the landscape she had been admiring. "The way the artist captures the impending storm is remarkable. It's as if you can feel the tension in the air."

Philip's eyes sparkled with interest. "I see what you mean. The subtle details, the way the light plays on the horizon... it's quite captivating."

As they delved deeper in to the discussion, sharing their favorite pieces and debating the merits of various techniques used, Verity felt a genuine connection with Philip. They discussed the emotions evoked by certain paintings, the skill required to create such works, and their own personal experiences with art. It was a wonderful chat. Exactly the sort of thing she adored at an exhibition such as this one.

Amelia and Cordelia, finding themselves unable to contribute meaningfully to the conversation, eventually drifted away, their initial eagerness waning.

Thank goodness. Verity noticed their departure but felt no regret. This moment with Philip was too precious to be disrupted.

They moved through the gallery together, stopping frequently to discuss different pieces with Philip's companions not too far behind them. Verity felt a sense of freedom she had not experienced in a long time. With Philip, she could be herself, share her thoughts openly, and feel truly understood.

Eventually, they found themselves back in front of the landscape that had initially caught Verity's eye.

"This one," Verity said softly, "it feels like a reflection of life itself. The calm before the storm, the beauty in the uncertainty. I think that is why I cannot stop looking at it."

Philip looked at her, his gaze intense and thoughtful. "Perhaps that is what draws us to it. The recognition of our own experiences within the art."

Their eyes met, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The noise of the gallery, the presence of others… it all seemed distant. There was only the shared understanding between them, a connection that surpassed words. Verity's heart raced as she felt Philip's warm gaze upon her.

"Lady Verity, I…" Philip began, his voice filled with something she could not quite identify, something that made her heart flutter with anticipation.

But before he could continue, a familiar voice shattered the moment.

"Lady Verity, there you are!" Ambrose called out, his tone a mix of impatience and relief.

Verity's heart sank as she turned to face Lord Aldford. The spell was broken, and the magic of the moment dissipated. She forced a polite smile, trying to conceal her frustration.

"Lord Aldford," she greeted him evenly, "is it time to leave already?"

"Not quite yet," Ambrose replied, his eyes narrowing as he took in the scene before him. Philip, sensing the tension, gave a polite nod. "There is still a lot I need to see."

"Good afternoon, Lord Aldford," Philip said smoothly. "Lady Verity, it was a pleasure speaking with you. I hope we can continue our discussion another time."

Verity watched as Philip, Lady Georgina, and Lord Darlington walked away, feeling a pang of longing. She wished she could continue their conversation, delve deeper into their shared passion for art, and simply enjoy the warmth of Philip's presence.

Throughout the remainder of the exhibition, Verity's mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of Philip. She tried to focus on the paintings around her, but her heart was heavy with the knowledge that if her brother Henry had his way, she would be married to Ambrose before the season ended.

As they exited Somerset House, Ambrose offered her his arm. "I hope you found the exhibition enlightening, Lady Verity."

She took his arm reluctantly. "Yes, it was quite illuminating."

Amelia and Cordelia walked ahead, whispering and giggling as usual, while Verity and Ambrose followed in silence.

This wasn't the life that she wanted for herself. How could she accept this when there was a possibility of something better out there?

Verity's thoughts raced as they made their way to the carriage. She felt a mix of frustration and longing, the memories of her conversation with Philip haunting her. There was something undeniably special about him, a connection that was so powerful, she wasn't sure that she would ever be able to forget it.