“But you found it, finally.” He didn’t say it as a question, but his hand tightened on hers, warm and big. “What was ‘it,’ though?”
She laughed, even as her eyes were full of tears.
“Lieutenant Hanson.” She swallowed, but knew her voice would shake. She spoke anyway. “When he—when he stopped. Afterward, when the rain started and we were all coming away from the tent? He said—I can’t say it, it was Polish …”
“Pozegnanie,” William said quietly. “Farewell.”
She nodded, and took a big breath.
“That. It was the only thing—just a glimpse—of who he was.” She blinked, then knuckled away the tears that had oozed out. She cleared her throat and looked at the painting.
“When I had that,” she said, able to breathe again, “it—he—wasn’t just a dead body. Or a hero—I could have done that—painted him on his horse, charging or whatever—and maybe the army would rather have had one like that, probably they would, but …”
“The army has much more feeling than you’d think,” he said, with a half smile. “It’s not usually a delicate sort of feeling, but it is feeling. And we understand death. This is perfect.”
She squeezed his hand and let it go, feeling the tightness in her chest let go as well. She nodded at the final painting, still veiled.
“You’ve already seen that one, though it wasn’t finished then. Do you want to see it?”
“Jane,” he said, and she turned to look at him, hearing things in his voice. But his jaw tightened and he shook his head.
“No,” he said. “Not just now.” He took a deep breath and blew it out with a whoosh.
“I daresay you’ve spent some time at Papa’s house whilst you’ve been in the city?”
“Yes,” she said, diverted. “Why?”
“Then you’ve met Amaranthus.”
“I have.”
“I want to talk to you about her.”
120
In Which William Spills His Guts, Mostly
IN THE END, HE told her almost everything. No mention of cold gardens, warm thighs, and black-eyed toads. But everything else: Dottie and the baby, Denzell, General Raphael Fucking Bastard Bleeker, and Amaranthus’s account of her husband.
His sister said very little but sat hunched forward on her tall painter’s stool, feet tucked back behind the rungs, watching him. She had a face that matched her height: boldly handsome, and with eyes that would brook no insult but that still seemed warm.
“I told Papa—Lord John—everything I’d found out.” His father had listened, pale and intent, sifting the account as William told it. Very clearly envisioning the necessity for relaying it to his brother, his knuckles growing whiter as the brutal tale went on.
“That can’t have been easy,” his sister said softly. He shook his head.
“No. But easier than it should have been—for me. I was a coward. I couldn’t … I couldn’t make myself tell Uncle Hal. So I told Papa instead and … left the dirty work to him.”
She considered that for a moment, head on one side. She wore no cap and her hair was unpinned; it fell over her shoulder in a shimmering wave, disregarded. Then she shook her head and thrust the wave back behind her ear, leaving a streak of overlooked white paint from her fingers.
“You’re not a coward,” she said. “Lord John knows his brother better than anybody else in the world—probably including His Grace’s wife,” she added, frowning a little. “There isn’t a good way to tell a man something like this, I don’t suppose …”
“There isn’t.”
“But I’ve heard your, um, father talk about his brother. He’ll know what your uncle feels, and he’s tough—Lord John, I mean, though probably Hal is, too. He can stand up to it, if Hal goes nuts—er, gets really upset,” she amended, seeing the look on William’s face. “You could tell him, all right—and you’ll probably have to, eventually,” she added with sympathy. “He’ll want to hear the gory details from you. But you wouldn’t be able to give him what he maybe needs after hearing it—whether that’s a stiff drink—”
“I’m sure that will be the second thing he needs,” William muttered. “The first being someone to hit.”
Brianna’s mouth twitched at that, and for a shocked moment, he thought she was about to laugh, but she shook her head instead and the paint-streaked lock of hair fell down along her cheek.