Chapter 9

CHAPTER9

As Gerald finally stepped aside, Katherine was surprised to see Simon stumble inside. He looked a bit disheveled, and she could only guess he had been drinking. Yet, hands in his pockets, and with all the confidence in the world, he walked into the foyer.

“Good day, Lord Simon,” Katherine greeted as she plastered on a smile.

In reality, she was so confused that she was barely able to form a coherent sentence.

“Simon, we weren’t expecting you,” Gerald said, his lips pressed into a thin line as he looked at his drunk brother. He shot Katherine an apologetic look, to which she could only smile in order to ease his tension.

“Well, brother of mine, I happen to be an inhabitant of Powell Manor myself,” Simon chirped, a flimsy bounce in his steps as he skipped across the foyer.

“I am well aware, Simon. But what I am trying to ask is why you are here so early,” Gerald pressed as he looked at him with a displeased expression.

“Oh, I had missed you so much my brother that I had decided to return early. After all, you have a lovely new wife that I am dying to get to know,” Simon replied as he started to walk closer to Katherine.

Katherine crossed her arms in front of her as if to protect herself, but thankfully, Gerald had decided to step between them.

“Simon, I’m warning you, if you are to cause any trouble,” Gerald threatened, his eyes narrowed.

Katherine thought it might have worked if Simon had a soul. Something about Gerald’s brother simply struck the wrong chord with her.

“Oh, do leave me alone, Brother,” Simon slurred with a laugh. “I am twenty-three years of age, and I do not need to be scolded me like a toddler. But I do promise not to make trouble.”

As Simon continued to stumble down the foyer, Gerald took a moment to shoot Katherine an apologetic look.

Katherine surely wasn’t enjoying the unwelcome arrival of her brother-in-law, but she smiled back at Gerald to indicate that she was all right.

“Anne!” Simon shouted as he headed toward the kitchen. “Pour me a glass of rum, would you?”

As he disappeared from view, Katherine noticed Anne poke her head around the door to the drawing room. She looked at Gerald with a raised eyebrow.

“Just ignore his requests, Anne.” Gerald sighed, rubbing his temples. “He’s bound to pass out any minute now.”

Anne nodded and continued to busy herself with her duties in the drawing room.

Gerald turned back to Katherine, but it appeared that he was at a loss for words. He just shook his head in disappointment.

“Thank you for showing me the lovely paintings, Your Grace.” Katherine smiled, trying to steer the conversation away from his brother, who was currently bothering the kitchen maids.

“I apologize for the abrupt pause.” Gerald sighed again, the brief kindness he had shown Katherine wiped off his face.

Could his brother really have ruined his day so much?

“I enjoyed it nonetheless. It made me happy to be able to see such great artwork. I have a soft spot in my heart for the arts,” Katherine said, placing both her hands over her heart.

She was aching. Aching to pick up a brush and paint again.

“Do you practice any form of art?” Gerald asked. “Any instruments I might be able to have brought to the manor?”

“Oh no.” She laughed, thinking about the time she had attempted to play the piano for a while. Her mother was far too thankful when she stopped, knowing the house would no longer be filled with such hopeless music. “I don’t have any musical talents, but I did enjoy painting a fair amount in my younger years. I used to sit for hours, holding a paintbrush.”

“Why did you stop?” Gerald asked with genuine interest.

Katherine was happy to see that he had somehow managed to warm up a bit to her, even if it was a little bit.

“Oh, one grows older and has to accept new duties. I couldn’t indulge in arts as much as I wanted to anymore. I had to focus on more important things in my life, such as finding a husband,” she replied, her heart clenching.

She had started to realize that art might have always been her one true love during this lifetime.

Gerald nodded once, yet she could tell that he had been listening to every word she had spoken. The two had subconsciously moved toward the wall, both leaning back against it. The only noise in the house had to be a mix of Anne’s quick footsteps and Simon’s loud, sluggish footsteps.

Katherine involuntarily started to yawn, and she put a hand over her mouth. It was starting to grow late, and today had taken quite a toll on her.

“Excuse me, Your Grace,” she said, before being interrupted by another yawn. She blinked. “Forgive me, but I think it’s time for me to retire to my chambers. I find myself rather tired tonight.”

“Of course. I hope you have a good night’s rest. I am to go check on my brother now, I believe,” Gerald grumbled.

Katherine smiled at him and started to make her way up the staircase. Halfway up, she had to readjust her stance, her limp nearly having caused her to fall if she hadn’t caught herself in time. From below, she heard Simon’s sluggish footsteps start to grow louder.

“Ah, Brother! How are you enjoying the wife?” she heard him say. She felt a bit offended, being referred to as an object rather than a human being by someone she now had to call family. “She has a limp, that’s unfortunate.”

Katherine didn’t move an inch as she listened, but her face contorted in disappointment as she heard the remark about her limp. She couldn’t deny it. After all, she had to pause halfway up the staircase in order to adjust her stance. Yet, she still hated it when her limp became a topic of gossip for other people.

“And you have a rather nasty unibrow growing on your forehead, Simon,” Gerald shot back, which nearly caused Katherine to break into laughter. “I suggest you pluck it before making comments on other people’s struggles.”

Katherine resumed climbing up the stairs, smiling as she did so. Gerald would never admit it to her, but she was rather grateful that he made the effort to stand up for her while she hadn’t been there. Even if it were just against unwanted comments on her limp.

* * *

“Your Grace, I believe there is a little gift waiting for you in the drawing room,” Anne announced as she stepped into Katherine’s bedroom.

Katherine had been up and dressed already, but she was still steadily fighting her way toward consciousness. She looked at the maid with a confused expression. “A gift?”

Who might possibly have left a gift for her?

This caused her to rise from her seat and slowly start to follow Anne all the way down the staircase. Anne had been so kind to stop every couple of steps, mindful of her mistress’s limp.

“Oh, how exciting! I have a soft spot in my heart for subtle surprises,” Anne chirped once they had reached the bottom of the staircase. She had even allowed Katherine to lightly grip her shoulder in order to regain her balance as they moved back onto an even surface.

Katherine remained quiet, but curiosity was surely eating at her. She had never received a gift, or at least not anything that she has a memory of.

“Right here in the drawing room, Your Grace,” Anne said as she ushered Katherine through the doorway.

Katherine came across several tubes of oil paint, canvases, brushes, a palette, and even an easel. Next to all the supplies, she found a card neatly inscribed with her name. She gasped in delight.

“Oh my,” she breathed as she gently picked up some of the paint tubes, carefully inspecting the colors that she might be able to paint with. She then traced a figure over the canvases that had been pre-stretched for her. The texture of the material was begging to be painted on. “This is the kindest gift I have ever received.”

Katherine didn’t even have to ask who had arranged all these lovely materials for her, for Gerald was the only one who knew about her love for painting. She would make sure to thank him.

“Would it be too early for me to indulge in painting?” She asked Anne, although the question had been more aimed toward herself.

Something inside her was bound to forget the world around her if she started painting right there and then, but she couldn’t quite resist the urge.

“I don’t believe so, Your Grace,” Anne replied from behind her. “It does appear rather tempting.”

“Then, I will start immediately,” Katherine said as she sat down in front of the large easel towering over her.

She had never had an easel to call her own. In her parent’s house, she had resorted mainly to painting on flat surfaces that her mother deemed damageable.

“I’m guessing you already have an image in mind, Your Grace,” Anne observed.

Katherine slowly placed one of the several blank canvases on the easel, staring at it intensely. “Not quite,” she replied, but her hands were already placing dollops of oil paint on the palette.

The world around her had already started to narrow down to just what remained before her. Herself, a paintbrush, a palette, and a canvas.

After staring at the blank canvas for a while, she thought a new perspective might bring her some inspiration. After all, she hadn’t painted in so long that she had barely been able to remember how she curated ideas of what to paint.

She turned the easel around so that she had a view of the garden outside the window. Surely, this might do something to revive her creative mind.

“Green,” she thought out loud as she dipped her paintbrush into her palette, adding hues of green, yellow, and red to create the perfect shade.

One small change of perspective had opened up to her a world of creativity. She had the beautiful gardens of the estate to thank.

“Your Grace!” a voice boomed behind her. A manly voice much different than Gerald’s deep baritone.

Katherine turned in her seat, seeing Simon standing behind her. He looked slightly disheveled, his hair pointing in several directions and his shirt unbuttoned at the top. He was already holding a glass of what Katherine could only guess was liquor. The previous night’s bender had visibly not done him well.

“Are you hard of hearing as well, Your Grace?” Simon asked with a raised eyebrow.

Katherine narrowed her eyes at him in displeasure. “No, Lord Simon. I apologize, I must have gotten lost in painting.”

“I was just asking what you are painting. It doesn’t look like much at the moment,” Simon drawled as he cocked his head, looking at the canvas.

“Yes, Lord Simon. It is not intended to look like much at this moment, as I am still occupied with doing the underpainting,” Katherine said, trying her utmost best to sound polite and not irritated by the man.

He looked at the painting once again, his lips parting, no doubt to deliver another comment.

“Simon,” a voice grumbled in the doorway.