Shadows of Doubt by Elizabeth Johns Read Free Book Online

when she heard a knock at the door. Could Mr. Abbott have arrived so early? He said morning, but to town folk that generally meant after noon. Her mother had barely dressed and come downstairs. Gwen needed to change, as she still had on her ragged gown on that she wore for housework. She opened the door to find the Dowager before her.
    “Good morning, Your Grace.”
    “Good morning, dear.” The Dowager made her way inside. “You best change quickly. I am to send you to meet Andrew in the carriage.”
    “The carriage?” No one used carriages in Bath. The terrain was steep and the town small. If a person were unable or disinclined to walk they called for a chair. She had almost understood the carriage for the ball, but in a day dress?
    “Those were his instructions. Hurry along.”
    Why the mystery? She wondered but did as she was told. Her day gown was little better than her other, but it was the newest she had. She kissed her mother goodbye and climbed into the waiting carriage.
    The drive was very short—only to the Royal Crescent—and Gwendolyn shook her head. She was not accustomed to such luxuries. The footman opened the door and pointed to where Mr. Abbott was setting up an array of painting supplies.
    “Good morning, Miss Lambert. I hope this will do.” He beamed, pleased with himself.
    “Good morning Mr. Abbott. Gracious! It looks as if you purchased the entire store,” she exclaimed as she surveyed the variety of canvas, pigments and brushes. He already had a beautiful new easel set up for her. She must have died and was caught in purgatory watching someone that looked like her living her dream.
    “Well,” Mr. Abbott interrupted her thoughts. “Say something please. Is this acceptable? I could not find a satisfactory place by the Bridge, so I selected your other favourite.”  
    “Acceptable? It is beyond anything I could have imagined. If you wish for me to paint the Royal Crescent, however, we’d best get started.”
    “We? No, no. I am merely here to see to your comfort. You paint, I entertain. You’d best begin.” He motioned her on. “As it is, it sounds like you might not have time for breaks. But inform me when you need sustenance and I will bring it to you.”
    “Am I not allowed to rest, then?” she asked wide-eyed, still unsure of when he was teasing.
    “Of course,” he said with crinkled eyes and a devillish smile. “When you finish.”
    She gave him a perplexed look and turned to her task. She carefully selected a canvas, trying not to think about the fact that he was going to be watching her all day. His focused gaze was disconcerting. Fortunately, as soon as the frame was in place, all of her thoughts were on her art. She prepped the canvas then sketched a rough drawing of the building, and concentrated on the proper mixture of colours. How could she have forgotten the recipes for Bath stone and the sky and the grass? She had known them by heart. She desperately wanted to make this beautiful for him. Her hands began to shake and she fought back tears.
    “Miss Lambert? Did I forget a colour? I can retrieve it at once! I relied solely on Mr. Scott to choose. I never knew there were so many hues of yellow.” He was instantly before her, exaggerating his concern. “Tell me what your heart desires and you shall have it immediately! I am at your disposal.”
    She giggled despite herself. He had a way of making everything seem humourous.
    “No, forgive me. You thought of everything, but I do not know if I can do this anymore.”
    “Of course you can. Splash some paint up there and see what happens. It will be like riding a horse. It will come right back to you.”
    She laughed, “One does not splash paint, Mr. Abbott.”
    “Then show me what you do with it. Teach me. I have always admired art, but never had the patience for lessons.”
    She sighed. “Very well. But it is the colours I am worried about.”
    “I never cared for Bath stone personally, so I will be happy with