Taming of the Beast (Scandalous Affairs #2) - Christi Caldwell Page 0,102
moved closer, drawn to that rendering. There were smiles among that group of five—cautious on one boy, almost angry on another, but at the center of those children was a little girl with a shy smile and a scarred face and—
“Miss Poplar?”
On a gasp, Faye whipped around.
The tall, regal, bespectacled woman standing in the doorway would have commanded the notice of anyone, even had she not a scar that marred half of her face. She possessed the carriage of a queen that inspired awe. Recalling herself, Faye instantly sank into a deep curtsy. “Your Grace—”
The duchess waved her hand. “There is no need for that,” she assured. “I’ve never been a fan of the curtsy.” A merry light twinkled in the other woman’s eyes. “Particularly when those curtsies are directed at me.” She followed that with a wink, and with that, the tension that Faye felt being here melted.
Faye and Lady Somerset shared a smile.
“Please, sit,” the other woman offered, sweeping her arm toward that blue velvet settee, where Faye’s bag now rested.
The moment they’d each been seated, Faye cleared her throat. “You do not know me well, Your Grace. I—”
“I know you, Miss Poplar.”
At that interruption, Faye went immediately cold.
I know you.
Of course the duchess did. All the world knew of the wicked Poplars, that family of sin and scandal and evil. Folding her hands, she locked those digits together and glanced down at them, all twisted and twined. “Oh. Yes, of course.” Would there ever come a time when she didn’t find shame in being who she was?
“I referred to our shared connection, Miss Poplar.” The gentleness in that pronouncement brought Faye’s gaze slowly up.
A kindly smile wreathed the other woman’s lips. “My brother Ryker is married to the sister-in-law of your sister-in-law, Lady Bolingbroke.”
“Yes,” she murmured. Perhaps that connection was reason enough for the woman to not despise Faye outright for her family’s sins.
“In fact,” the other woman carried on conversationally, as though Faye’s arrival hadn’t been unexpected, but rather, a planned visit between two longtime friends, “Poppy created that rendering you were examining when I came in.”
Faye’s gaze flew to the portrait. “Indeed!” The familiarity of that detailing and work now made sense.
“What do you think of it?”
“It is quite lovely.”
A wry smile pulled at the other woman’s lips. “Indeed. That is curious, as even my husband struggled to see that. He felt it was too dark and sorrowful.”
“Oh, no,” she murmured, before recalling that she’d just challenged the opinion of the lady’s husband, but then, Faye had never been one to bring herself to heel, which accounted for her mother’s disdain and Society’s disapproval. Or one of the reasons. “At first glance, one is drawn into the squalor and suffering, but when you look at the children, the way their bodies are bended toward one another and the ease between them, one sees family. There is suffering”—as was life—“but there is love there.”
The duchess clapped lightly with her approval. “Very nice,” she praised.
Faye froze as it hit her all at once. “It is you,” she blurted. “Isn’t it?” Her eyes flew over to the little girl at the center of that group in the painting.
“My brothers and I, yes. Poppy did a masterful job of capturing the suffering and also the sense of family amidst it.”
“Indeed she did.” Silence fell over the parlor, the casual discourse on the painting ending with an awkward stretch of quiet. To give her hands something to do, she rescued her bag from the floor and rested the article upon her lap, finding comfort in clutching that sack that she’d used to store all her secrets and work from her family. It did not escape her that the duchess, with her continued silence, had placed the role of leader of the discussion in Faye’s hands. Faye, who was hopelessly awkward with conversation, even with her own family. The only person whom she’d never been uncomfortable with, oddly, was the man who now sat outside.
Finding her courage, Faye broke the impasse. “I trust you know why I’ve come,” she said quietly.
“Based on previous notes you’ve sent, I have been able to surmise,” the regal woman allowed. “You’ve been very determined.”
She drew in a breath. “As you know, my family was involved in the disappearance of a Lost Lord.”
Of course the other woman knew. All society, polite and impolite, had learned of the tale. To the other woman’s credit, she gave no outward reaction to that announcement. That allowed Faye to continue.