In Pursuit of the Painter by Ashtyn Newbold
Chapter Thirteen
SUMMER
Patience adjusted the mask on her nose, ensuring the ribbons were still tied around the back of her head. In the darkness of the evening, she was better able to slip through the crowd unnoticed, joining a group of five young ladies and their chaperones as they walked through the front doors of the assembly hall.
She did not miss the crowds of London, though Inglesbatch was not always a quiet town either. She moved as quickly as she could through the crowd of masked people as they joined the existing party inside the assembly hall. Patience had learned of the masquerade soon after her arrival in London. As luck would have it, her cousin Mary and her husband had taken pity on Patience and offered to allow her to live in their London townhouse with them for the summer. They had heard of The Monstrous Debutante, as nearly everyone in town had, and they found a thrill in harboring her within their walls. Patience would rather be a spectacle than have no place to live, so she had gladly accepted their invitation.
It was convenient, really, that her cousin lived in London.
Patience would be closer to Mr. Cavinder.
Mary was the one who had informed Patience of the masquerade. Her cousin had offered to attend with her as a chaperone, but Patience didn’t have any interest in attending for the sake of socializing. She did not wish to present anyone with her true name and draw attention to herself. No one could know that the subject of The Monstrous Debutante was in London, and especially not Mr. Cavinder. She had to catch him by surprise, just as he had caught her by surprise. She had declined Mary’s invitation, secretly planning to come alone instead.
Thankfully, Mary was quite involved in the gossip of London. She knew how Mr. Cavinder’s two twin sisters, Emma and Isabel, had recently come out in society. She was also aware that Mr. Cavinder often accompanied them to social gatherings alongside their mother. Not only had Mr. Cavinder’s painting garnered fame and attention, but he had as well. According to Mary, he had rented a townhouse one street to the west of where Mary and her husband resided. At the heart of town, he had established a new studio, where he received far more clients than he had time for. His schedule was filled for the rest of the year and beyond, and he was far more wealthy than any tradesman ought to ever be.
Patience gritted her teeth as she forced her way past a rather large gentleman, holding her breath against the stench that he carried. The room was hot and filled to its capacity, leaving many of the guests flushed and covered in perspiration. The dancing had begun, which only added to the humidity of the room. Patience groaned inwardly. If only she did not have to wear long sleeves. She sympathized with the men in their thick jackets and stifling cravats. It was no wonder that they perspired more than the women with their short, puffed sleeves and low necklines.
Patience stopped when she reached the far corner. The holes in the eyes of her mask were small, but when she pressed it against her face, she managed to see quite clearly. For obvious reasons, it was beneficial for Patience to wear a mask. The problem, however, was that the masquerade would make locating Mr. Cavinder much more difficult. Finding his sisters needed to be her first task.
She caught sight of two petite young women near the refreshment table. Both had walnut brown hair, piled high atop their heads. Their dresses were different colors, but a similar style. When they turned around, their smiles were identical beneath their masks.
Patience’s heart thudded. Mr. Cavinder must have been nearby. Her gaze caught on a tall gentleman, at least two inches taller than anyone on that half of the room. His chocolate brown hair was swept neatly around his head. A solid jaw flecked with stubble, smiling lips, and a small crease in his chin showed beneath the mask. Patience watched from her shadowed corner as he walked toward the twins with two cups of water.
Patience kept her eyes on him as his mouth split into a smile. Anger bounded through her chest like a loose horse. How could he be smiling? How could his life be so perfect as a result of hers being ruined? She drew a deep breath, calming the turmoil of emotions that coursed through her veins. If she did not work quickly, she might lose her nerve.
There were many things that could harm a person’s reputation, but Patience knew rumors to be the worst. Starting with the large group of women beside her, she pretended to stumble, knocking gently against the back of the nearest young lady. It would have been far more improper to simply introduce herself there without a chaperone and join their conversation, so she needed to allow a conversation to begin naturally.
“Oh, heavens, please do forgive me,” Patience said. She laughed softly. “My new slippers are not as reliable as I had hoped.”
The young lady stepped away from her, waving a hand. “Not to worry, no harm has been done.”
Patience grimaced. “Perhaps it has. My ankle hurts quite badly. I cannot stand straight.”
One of the older women in the group pressed a hand to her chest. The feathers of her turban rustled as she walked forward. “You poor thing. Come here. Take a seat.” She gestured at the velvet chairs lining the wall directly behind their gathering of at least four matronly ladies and presumably their many daughters or nieces. Patience thanked the woman before sitting down just behind them all. She gave another false grimace. “Oh, yes, I have certainly twisted it, but it is nothing that requires the attention of a physician. I suppose I will simply refrain from dancing for the evening.”
“What a shame.” The woman sighed.
“I am relieved, actually,” Patience said, raising her voice just enough so that the other young ladies in the circle would listen. “There was a certain man who asked me to dance whom I wished to avoid. Now I have an excuse not to be near him.” She shuddered. “I would not wish any lady the displeasure of his company.”
The other conversations among the ladies had ceased, and now they all listened, surrounding Patience’s velvet chair. One young lady with raven black hair leaned forward, the pendant on her necklace swaying. “Who is it?”
Patience cast her gaze heavenward, hoping they could see her eyes through the mask. “I can hardly speak his name. He is the most vile, deceitful creature of my acquaintance.”
One of the older women stepped forward. “We will help you avoid him, not to worry. Where is your chaperone?”
“Thank you. That is a great relief, I assure you. My chaperone grew faint from the heat and stepped outside,” Patience said.
“I see. Well, you must tell us who this gentleman is so we may also keep our daughters far from him.”
The younger women all stared at Patience with round, eager eyes. “Do tell us,” one with blonde curls said.
“Very well.” Patience took a deep breath. “But he is not a gentleman at all. He is an artist.”
The women gasped, leaning collectively toward Patience’s chair, creating a barrier for the rest of the room. “Could it be…?”
“Mr. Cavinder,” Patience said.
The woman who had helped Patience to her chair shook her head slowly, brows drawing together. “I did find his sudden fame in town rather suspicious. What has he done to give you such a low opinion of his character?”
Patience pressed a hand to her forehead, adding a flare of dramatics to her act. “I do not wish to bore you all with the story.”
“You must tell us!” one of the ladies exclaimed.
“Oh, very well.” Patience touched a hand to her heart. “But you must know how it pains me to speak of this. I will only tell the story if you all promise to spread the truth to as many people as you can. I wish for all of London to know the sort of man he truly is.”
The women nodded with zeal, and Patience was certain she could trust them to fulfill their duty. She began the story she had rehearsed many times.
“The painting that was displayed at the exhibition was a depiction of my dearest friend. She was a client of Mr. Cavinder’s last year. She was far above his station, but he developed an attachment to her.” Patience lowered her voice. “He was rather obsessed with her. He followed her and watched her when she was not aware. He, being a poor tradesman, should have never had any hope of securing her hand. When he proposed to her, she respectfully declined, but he persisted. He threatened to portray her as a monster for all of London to see if she did not accept him. She didn’t believe his threats to be earnest, so she still declined, fearing for her own safety. He then carried out the threat, and her reputation is now ruined because of that wicked man.” Patience shook her head. “My dear friend has suffered much because of him.”
The women in the circle all shook their heads to match Patience, whispers of dismay escaping each one of them. “That is dreadful,” the older woman said. “I found him quite amiable when I met him. How deceived I have been.”
“And he is handsome,” the young woman with the blonde curls said. “Why do handsome men so often lack good character?”
“Because the moment they become aware of that they are extraordinarily handsome, they also become prideful and vain.”
Patience had never thought that Mr. Cavinder was vain, but he had been defensive and prideful at times. Perhaps he hadn’t yet realized just how handsome he was. From where she sat on the velvet chair, she had lost his location. She couldn’t see over the hats and tall turban feathers of the ladies surrounding her.
If she stood, she was confident her height would allow her to see over them.
Feigning a slight limp, she rose to her feet and steadied herself on the nearest woman’s arm. “Thank you,” Patience said. “I feel much better now.”
With nonchalance, she swept her gaze across the room. Mr. Cavinder still stood near his sisters, but during Patience’s act, they had moved closer to her side of the room.
“Is that Mr. Cavinder? The man with the blue mask?” one of the ladies asked in a hushed voice.
Patience nodded. She needed to hurry and find another group of people to spread her rumors to, and then the first step of her revenge would be complete.
“Stay here.” The woman with the tall feather on her turban stood directly beside Patience. “I will ensure he does not approach you for the next dance.” She withdrew her fan and began fanning her red, splotched skin. The room was growing hotter by the minute.
“You are very kind, but I—” Patience’s voice lodged in her throat when she followed the woman’s gaze to Mr. Cavinder. He was staring straight at Patience. Instinctively, she touched her mask, adjusting the corner. Blast her height. Had he recognized her because of that? She looked away as quickly as she could. Surely she was imagining things. But then, if she had recognized him with his mask, wasn’t it possible that he could have recognized her? Not only was it possible, but it was likely.
There are two sorts of people you become overly aware of. Someone you love, and someone you loathe.
Mr. Cavinder had studied her for hours, transferred her image to a canvas, and then he had made it famous. She had been in his mind for a year, so how could he not have noticed her?
She dared to glance up again. His gaze was still fixed on her. He took one step in her direction.
The robust woman with the large feathered turban moved partially in front of Patience. The other women joined her, forming a wall of sorts. “Not to worry, my dear. Mr. Cavinder is no match for us. We will divert him.”
Patience tried to let their reassurance calm her, but her mind raced. Being approached by Mr. Cavinder hadn’t been part of her plan. Her plan had been to flee the room if she suspected he recognized her, but now she was surrounded by fierce, determined women, and Mr. Cavinder was far too close.
As he took the final steps toward them, she could see the deep brown of his eyes from behind his mask. A pang of sadness struck her heart. She had once thought those eyes to be kind, but what he had done to her had been far from it. She clung to the anger that burned around her heart, letting it consume the other feelings that arose at the sight of him, handsome and broad-shouldered. He had ruined her life, and she would not stop until she ruined his in return.
She glanced all around her. These ladies, it seemed, were now on her side.
