Cecelia’s lips twisted. “Manners, Flynn. They must be as flawless as your work. I believe I’ve mentioned this in the past, and it’s clear that I need to do so again.” She poked a finger at him. “You need me now that you’re going places. Though I would suggest that you stay away from exhibiting subjects that have a religious context in the future.”

There was a dull roaring in his ears that had almost completely drowned out the sound of her voice. He could feel the edge of the door cutting into the palm of his hand, and he held on, afraid that if he let go, he might simply spin away. The room around him seemed to steady then, and a curious calm descended. He straightened, his limbs oddly numb but obeying the commands of his mind nonetheless. “I have to go,” he mumbled, urgency propelling him through the door and down the stairs, heedless of Cecelia’s furious shrieks.

He had to go. Before he made another mistake.

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

The Royal Academy’s exhibition hall, housed in Somerset House, was thronged.

Those of the upper classes who hadn’t traveled to a country pile for Christmas were out in droves in the city, seeking their own entertainment. And a new artist, one who was rumored to have garnered the attention of royalty at home and abroad, was always a draw.

Flynn had no idea where those rumors had come from, nor did he care. He skirted the crowd, his hat pulled low over his brow, his eyes fixed on the far wall where a massive knot of people milled, gesturing and chattering. He ignored the noise, slipped through the crush, and came to an abrupt stop, robbed quite suddenly of breath.

His Madonna had been hung in the center of the hall above a raised dais used only for the most illustrious of exhibitors. High above him, winter light streamed in from the windows and fell across the painting, illuminating the Madonna’s gentle expression with an unearthly brilliance. It was dramatic, it was celebrated, and it was everything his mother had always wanted for him. The gift he had always wanted for her to reward her unflagging love and belief, even if she never had the chance to see it.

Charlotte had done this, he knew. He didn’t know how or when, though those details could be guessed at. What wasn’t fathomable was why. Why had she done this for him after everything? After he had walked away from her?

Because she loved you, the voice in his head hissed. And you didn’t believe her. Didn’t believe in her.

Didn’t allow her to make a mistake.