A Rational Proposal (Furze House Irregulars Book 1)(31)
Julia straightened up. “Ah, thank you. That was what I had heard, but it is nice to have confirmation. Her wearing it is either bravado or pretence, then. Thank you so much for suggesting this, Lilith. I had no notion portraits could tell us so much about character.”
“And that is today’s knowledge assimilated,” said Verity. “What is through that arch? More portraits or something livelier?”
“Landscapes, I believe, with the odd battle at sea. Would you prefer them?”
Verity looked around in dissatisfaction. “I would prefer something that was painted from the heart. Something like your sketches, Lilith. This is simply men showing off their wealth and importance by arraying themselves and their wives in costly fabrics and jewels. They are covering up the cracks in their lives with deception.”
“You may make Admiral Harrington’s legacy over to Miss Bowman at once, Congreve,” said Lord Fitzgilbert. “That is the most rational evaluation of the collection I’ve heard since I entered this benighted room.”
“Would that I could. Sadly, the estate requires hard proof, not mere sentiment. The Harrington family is breathing down my neck, just waiting for the slightest irregularity to challenge the will.”
“My commiserations.”
“They will be satisfied by our performance today,” said Verity, “even though you have led me wrong, Lilith. My uncle would not at all consider this a sensible use of my time. Unless the other room proves to be full of sea battles that I may learn something of history from, I think I would have preferred Bullock’s Museum, which was a favourite of his.”
“I doubt you would have got my brother to Bullock’s,” murmured Lilith under her breath. “You forget, this exhibition is serving a dual purpose,” she went on aloud. “You are also establishing yourself in society while you admire the skill of the artist. Everybody who is anybody is here.”
“Indeed,” replied Julia, “and some of the visitors are more interesting than others.” Her eyes rested speculatively on a group of red coats that had just entered the gallery.
Verity saw Charles stiffen. “Do you know everyone, Julia?” she asked hastily. “Who is the supercilious man by the door to the next room? The one in the elegant blue coat. I saw him at Bow Street. The clerks were so deferential it would have set my teeth on edge had it been directed at me, but he accepted it as his due and strolled out. I was never less taken with anyone.”
“Who do you mean? Oh, I see him. That is Sir Philip Munro. He has ten thousand a year and a house in Soho Square. One meets him in many places.”
“Why then is he a person of importance in Bow Street?” asked Verity.
“Because he is a gentleman thief-taker,” said Lilith’s brother. “He makes a great deal of ridding the streets of the criminal menace.”
Julia frowned at him, evidently picking up the flatness in his voice. “So I understood. That is good, isn’t it?”
“It would be if he not did puff off his own consequence so much by ostentatiously saying it was nothing. I would be more impressed if he brought in more of the rich thieves and fewer of the poor penniless embezzlers.”
“All of the glory, none of the substance,” murmured Charles. “Which is doubtless very unfair of me. I have no personal knowledge of the man.”
“He has looked this way once or twice,” said Verity. “I daresay he knows you by sight if you are often in Bow Street and wonders what you are doing here. Would you like me to be loud and effusive as we go past?”
“It is entirely your own decision,” said Charles, looking even more bored and raising his voice slightly as they left the others behind and walked through the arch. “What were your uncle’s opinions on the portrayal of sea battles? Did he consider them of educational value to the general populace?”
“Oh, assuredly, though he was inclined to be critical of the poor artists. I remember one time he spent quite half-an-hour in front of a large canvas pointing out that from the set of the sails on the ships in the painting, the wind appeared to be blowing from several different directions at once.”
There was only the slightest tremor in Charles’s tone as he replied that no doubt the painter had not enjoyed the same degree of familiarity with the open ocean as the late admiral.
The circuit of the inner room was swiftly accomplished and they emerged again to find Julia paying court to her knot of officers. The group had been joined by various matrons and daughters whom Verity vaguely recognised, but as before, Julia was talking most animatedly to Lieutenant Crisp.
“Have you seen everything you require, Julia?” asked Charles. “I am loathe to disappoint your friends, but I have an appointment I must not miss.”
“I would be happy to escort Miss Congreve home if she wishes to stay longer,” said Lieutenant Crisp earnestly.
“And we would be happy to accompany him to ensure propriety,” drawled Lieutenant Neville.
“That does not sound so very proper,” said Verity. “Are you enjoying the paintings? Do you know much about art?”
Lieutenant Neville’s lazy gaze assessed and dismissed her.
Verity felt Charles’s forearm muscles bunch under her hand. “I believe we must all be going,” he said. “Do pray stay and enjoy the collection, gentlemen. You seem to have remarkable amounts of leisure for officers of His Majesty’s army. I am delighted to see you putting it towards an appreciation of culture.”