He didn’t act on it, though. Rather, he retrieved the crumpled handkerchief from her clutching fingers and proficiently began drying her tears while changing the subject to their plans for Ophelia.
“I discussed with your parents the necessity of appearing in public together this week, the better to bolster your sister’s prospects. I have faith that Kate will develop a grand strategy for her, but the Season will be over if we don’t act soon. We will have to attend some functions, of course. If we vary our schedules and our routines and keep our social events secret until the last moment—and if our armed guards remain vigilant—we should decrease the risk. We need to be accessible, but give no advance warning or easy opportunity to my enemy.”
Venetia nodded in agreement. “That seems wise.”
“The question then becomes, how do we occupy ourselves in the immediate future? It will not be pleasant being confined to the house for long periods. What do you require to resume your sculpting?”
The question surprised her. “What do you mean?”
“Wouldn’t you like to sculpt again?”
“Yes, very much.” She had missed her art a great deal.
“What does it entail?”
Her brow furrowed as she mentally reviewed the necessities. “I would need my tools and fresh clay and some proper stone…as well as a place to work.”
“You can purchase supplies, can you not?”
“Yes. Actually, I brought some implements with me from France, so I can fetch them from Cleo’s home. I would like to see her, in any case. I have missed her, and I feel guilty for abandoning her.” Venetia’s mouth twisted in a faint smile. “Not only was I supposed to be Cleo’s companion, she returned to England chiefly for my sake.”
Quinn disregarded her lament. “We can build you a studio here in London, I presume.”
“That isn’t practical. I would need a kiln to fire the clay molds, and a special table with vises to hold the stone in place while I chisel….”
“There must be kilns in town that can accomplish the firing for you.”
“Perhaps. But you needn’t go to such trouble or expense on my behalf.”
“It is no trouble. Indeed, it is the least I can do. If you are able to work, your enforced confinement won’t seem so onerous.” He paused a heartbeat. “In addition to improvising a workshop here, I could always construct a larger studio at my estate in Kent. Tallis Court is your home now as well as mine.”
Venetia wasn’t certain how to respond to his suggestion, but she noted how his shrewd gaze was studying her. “Your offer is extremely kind, but truly, I don’t want to establish anything too permanent or become too settled.”
Quinn’s expression didn’t change overtly, but she sensed that he didn’t like the reminder that her future was not here in England with him.
In truth, she would rather not even visit Tallis Court. She might fall in love with Quinn’s family home and grow too attached. If she intended to return to France, she was better off not risking temptation.
She wondered if Quinn could divine her weakness. His eyes, so sharply intelligent, seemed to penetrate her thoughts.
Yet he didn’t argue. He merely stated his intentions: “Then you will have to settle for a makeshift workshop here in town.”
—
Over the next several days, Venetia was astonished by the speed at which Quinn acted. For her studio, she chose an upstairs north-facing room with ample light, and in short order his army of servants had completed the transformation.
Quinn himself took her shopping for proper tables and heavier equipment and looked on as she supervised the placement of various items and supplies, all the while asking curious questions and expressing fascination at her creative process.
As for commanding his staff, as Quinn wished her to, Venetia instructed the butler and housekeeper to carry on as before her marriage. She had never been mistress of her own household, but although the notion was extremely appealing, she did not want to interfere if she was only to stay for a few more months.
On the second afternoon—accompanied by armed footmen and grooms, at Quinn’s insistence—she set out to visit Cleo and fetch the sculpting tools she had brought to England with her.
It was wonderful to see Cleo again, even if her friend was still highly critical of her marriage to Traherne and still gravely concerned for her.
Over tea, Cleo quizzed her thoroughly about her time in Somerset. “You are not falling under Traherne’s spell, are you?”
“No,” Venetia answered, knowing she wasn’t being entirely honest but hoping her hesitation didn’t show.
Cleo seemed skeptical, even when Venetia explained about her agreement with Quinn and said that her plan was to return to France once the assassin was caught…although she was now thinking of remaining here in London until her sister’s mari