Chapter 11

CHAPTER11

In the early morning hours, Katherine awoke to the sound of voices in the corridor outside her bedroom door.

“Simon, you have the ability to walk, and I suggest you use it!” she heard Gerald hiss.

No matter how hard he might try, she could still hear him.

“I’m trying!”

She heard Simon giggle like a schoolgirl. A drunken giggle. She gathered he was unable to walk, from the sound of things.

“Assist me here, would you?” she heard Gerald say, likely to a servant, to assist him in the task of carrying Simon to his quarters.

Katherine could hear from his voice that he was agitated by his brother’s behavior, and she felt a twinge of sympathy in her heart.

“The night is young!” Simon exclaimed drunkenly.

“Shut your mouth!” Gerald whisper-yelled. “We are trying not to wake the entirety of London.”

“You just don’t want to wake your pretty, little wife, do you?” Simon slurred. “Your pretty, little wife, with her pretty, little paintbrushes and her leg causing her to⁠—”

“Enough already!” Gerald hissed once again.

A large thud sounded outside Katherine’s door—possibly Simon falling.

“I fell! I fell!” He chuckled. Katherine heard a loud sigh as she sat up in her bed. “I cannot get up by myself!”

“Just carry him to his bed, please.” Gerald sighed again, before his footsteps started to retreat down the corridor.

“Yes, Your Grace,” a servant responded, sounding just as disheartened as him.

Katherine heard two sets of footsteps shuffling down the corridor, along with Simon’s drunken chuckles.

She lay back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling in the complete darkness, the only source of light the soft glow of the moon filtering through her curtains.

* * *

“I hope we did not bother you too much last night. I apologize for the commotion,” Gerald said as Katherine walked into the dining room, awaiting breakfast to be served. His eyes were dull and tired, but he appeared determined nonetheless.

“Not at all, Your Grace. I tend to sleep like a rock,” Katherine lied, not wanting to admit that her own lack of sleep was due to Simon’s drunken chuckles throughout the night. “I hope that you had some rest last night.”

Gerald shook his head slightly, taking a sip of coffee before responding. “Not much, I must admit. I don’t know how my brother does it.”

“Might I ask if Lord Simon would be joining us for breakfast?” Katherine asked, after not spotting a third place setting.

“I doubt it. I think it best to let him sleep through the day. That gives the rest of the household some peace in the meantime.” Gerald sighed.

Two kitchen maids entered the dining room, carrying plates of French bread, pound cake, eggs, and muffins. Katherine watched as they laid the plates on the table, her mouth watering as her eyes surveyed the several options.

“Thank you,” she said to them before they left.

Gerald, however, had already started to tear a piece of bread from the loaf, eager to have some form of sustenance to keep him upright throughout the day.

As he started to butter his piece of bread, Katerine watched him. She hadn’t even touched the food, her eyes oddly fixed on the man before her. Worse yet, she had been unaware of the evident blush blooming in her cheeks. She turned her gaze downward, hoping he hadn’t noticed her staring.

“I asked the staff to leave your painting equipment just as is so that you can continue whenever you feel best,” Gerald said after he swallowed a mouthful of food. “I am looking forward to seeing the finished piece.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, I appreciate it.” Katherine smiled, to which Gerald merely nodded.

He looked away once again, deep in thought. This allowed her to have a few bites without profusely blushing.

“My goodness,” a voice slurred from the doorway. “Last night feels like a distant memory, what do you say, Brother?”

Simon entered the dining room in the same clothes he had left in the previous night. Not only did he look disheveled, but he also reeked of alcohol.

“You have awoken early?” Gerald asked, gracefully picking up a lemon muffin. “Should I ask someone to prepare your place setting?”

His questions sounded mundane, but his tone of voice revealed a completely different emotion. Anger, from what Katherine gathered.

“No, thank you,” Simon replied, but he grabbed a piece of bread from the table nonetheless. “I think I might head back to my room for more rest.”

Katherine continued eating her breakfast, but she couldn’t help but look at his disheveled state, at the way he continued to eat while standing up. At last, he picked up a few muffins and a slice of bread, before excusing himself.

“Excuse his poor manners.” Gerald sighed as he picked up his fork once again. “I believe my mother to only have raised one gentleman, and it surely isn’t Simon.”

“Perhaps he is still under the influence of alcohol? I’m unsure how much he consumed last night,” Katherine suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh, far too much. But this behavior is normal, unfortunately.” Gerald placed his fork down on his plate without having taken a bite. “I believed my mother to have babied him a tad too much when he was younger. Unfortunately, entitlement follows you into your older years.”

Katherine stared at him, her curiosity piqued, but didn’t speak. She was eagerly waiting for him to say more, reveal more of his family’s past.

But Gerald cut himself off and waved his hand in the air. “My apologies,” he muttered. He clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on the table.

“Was he the favorite?” Katherine asked, hoping not to overstep any boundaries with her question. “My parents tended to favor some of my sisters, mostly based on how quickly they were able to find suitors.”

Gerald frowned for a moment, before shaking his head. “I guess one might say that Simon, too, is a product of favoritism, but with far less substantial reasons. He was ill as a baby, which gave my mother a large fright, you see, but he fully recovered. She just never stopped codding him from that moment on. Thus, I believe him to have a bit of a superiority complex. He had always been coddled—too late to change his behavior now.”

“I am sorry to hear that, Your Grace,” Katherine said softly, her eyes focused on Gerald’s. “It’s unfortunate that you have to endure your brother’s poor behavior.”

Gerald nodded. He then took another sip of his coffee and stared in front of him as if nothing had happened.

“Do excuse me, Duchess, but I believe it best if I get some work done before my brother reawakens,” Gerald said, and for the first time, he gave Katherine a genuine smile.

Katherine was speechless, unable to utter a word, surprised at what she had just witnessed. But as soon as Gerald disappeared from view, she found herself smiling. The same blush still clung to her cheeks.

After a moment’s pause, she stood up from her seat at last. She was unsure of what to do, but her feet carried her to the drawing room, right to where the easel was.

As she stepped over the threshold, she noticed Anne crouching in front of the easel. Katherine watched her investigate the painting for a while.

“How does it look so far?” she asked as she walked further into the room.

Anne started a bit, nearly falling right into the painting. Katherine braced herself for the impact, but with a last desperate attempt, Anne righted herself.

“I am so sorry, Anne. I didn’t mean to frighten you!” Katherine exclaimed as the maid smoothed her skirt.

Anne let out a small giggle. “No worries, Your Grace. I apologize for not having heard you enter. I nearly ruined your masterpiece,” she said, her voice still a bit shaky.

Katherine couldn’t tell if she was shaken because she had been startled or because she nearly fell right into the painting.

“But it truly looks amazing, Your Grace. Yesterday, you spoke about the paintings in the manor with so much passion. But your talent surpasses that of the people who made those paintings.” Anne smiled, her eyes darting back to the painting resting on the easel.

“Thank you, Anne. I appreciate the compliment.” Katherine smiled. “I am not quite yet finished, but I think I’ll finish it within the hour.”

“How exciting!” Anne exclaimed as she clasped her hands together. “I will leave you alone to focus then, Your Grace. One must never intrude on the artist.”

Katherine watched as the maid excused herself, leaving her in peaceful solitude as she took her seat in front of the easel. The painting called for her to pick up the brush once again and continue the peaceful art she had already started.

It didn’t take Katherine long to fall into the flow of things, placing new dollops of paint on the palette and mixing colors. Shades of lilac, pale grey, and a duck egg blue started to emerge, which she looked at with a pleased expression.

Hours passed, but it felt like mere minutes that she had been sitting there. The only thing that alerted her to the passage of time was when she stood up and felt the ache in her body once again. She grinned to herself, stretching her limbs before turning to look at the finished painting before her.

“Perfect,” she murmured with a smile.

There was no better feeling for Katherine than seeing the image in her head reflected on the coarse canvas.

“I agree. It is perfection, indeed,” Gerald suddenly said from behind her.

This time, his voice didn’t even startle her. Instead, she turned to face him with a smile.

“Sorry, Your Grace,” Katherine said. “I did not notice your presence.”

“I walk noiselessly,” Gerald joked, taking a few steps closer to her. “An amazing work of art, I must say.”

Katherine nodded her thanks, not having much of an idea of how to respond to the compliment. She found it heartwarming, nonetheless.

“I worked quite hard on this piece. It is the first I have completed in a long while, and I’m sure my skills will improve as I continue. But if I must say so myself, I am proud of how it had turned out,” she admitted, looking back at the painting.

“I am guessing you painted the view outside the window,” Gerald murmured as he observed the painting. “I am glad that you found a good spot with a good view.”

“The garden is so beautiful, how could one not paint it if given a paintbrush?” Katherine pointed out, looking out at the garden once more.

Somehow, the way the sunlight streamed through the window resembled that in her painting. She had been worried about that part—the sunlight shifting so quickly throughout the day—but somehow, she had managed to capture the current scene perfectly.

“Once it is fully dry, I’ll send someone to have it framed,” Gerald said, gently placing a finger on the unpainted side of the canvas.

Katherine raised her eyebrows. She had already planned to place the painting somewhere in her cupboard once it had dried—like she had always done. She hadn’t expected someone to ever frame one of her works.

She smiled genuinely, her cheeks flushing a cherry pink. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she breathed, still surprised at his suggestion.

She walked over to him and bent down slightly beside him, looking at the painting from a closer perspective.

“It requires a fine hand to do such work,” Gerald remarked once she was only an inch away from his shoulder. “A really fine hand.”

“I guess it’s good that I was born with small hands, then.” Katherine laughed, holding out her palms in front of her. Oddly, Gerald mirrored the gesture.

Katherine watched as he held his palms out in front of him, his hands large and nearly twice her size. She gasped in surprise.

“No wonder I have never been much of an artist,” Gerald added as he stared down at his large palms.

Katherine had no idea how her palm ended on his, and she took a moment to stare at it. She let out a small giggle as she contemplated the size of her palm against his. The tips of her fingers barely touched the first creases in his fingers.

Gerald chuckled, gently twisting his palm beneath hers as he looked at the scene. Then, for a brief second, he froze. His eyes met hers, and at that moment, Katherine froze.