“I have never seen such exquisite attention to detail or sophistication in rendering.” Jane bit her lip, aware that she had spoken of the technical rather than the artistic merits of his work. “It quite makes me feel as if I am out-of-doors and at peace. I would not have thought a dinner party could be so restful as this.”

With the barest look beyond Jane at her dinner partner, Mr. Dunkirk said, “Some conversations may be more taxing than others.”

“Indeed. I wonder how Mr. Vincent is faring with my mother.” She glanced past Mr. Dunkirk to the glamourist, who was gazing at her mother with a glazed expression. From the back of Mrs. Ellsworth’s head, it seemed clear that she was discussing something with great animation. “What conversation did she favour you with? Was it the weather or the price of silk?”

“Neither. We discussed the art in your home at length and she told me about as many pieces as she could. I believe we had just finished with the south wall of the drawing room when the table turned, so I will have to call to see what the west wall holds. It is a pleasure to which I look forward.”

Jane blushed. “I fear that there are no new pictures in the drawing room, so your visit will find only that which you have seen before.”

“I expect that I will have a new appreciation for what I find in your home. This is often the way with things which have been seen, but overlooked by circumstance.” He took a drink of his wine. “Your mother has been so gracious as to invite my sister and I for tea tomorrow.”

“How wonderful.” Despite the cooling breeze that Mr. Vincent had generated, the room was suddenly too hot. “But if we are going to discuss art, let us turn to something worthy of discussion. What is your opinion of the room?”

“I find it quite astounding. Beth’s first tutor was a man of talent, but would never have been capable of something such as this.”

“I had understood that Beth had not studied glamour before arriving here.”

Mr. Dunkirk’s eyes widened. He looked down hurriedly to examine the dish in front of him, stammering the start of three different sentences at once. She had clearly said something that inadvertently opened a subject painful to him. To relieve him of whatever discomfort he felt, Jane changed the subject by affecting to drop her napkin.

He retrieved it, clearly grateful for the reprieve, but she still puzzled over this. Could this mysterious first tutor be the key to Beth’s dark moods and all of her pining over a muse? A muse who, according to the girl, was not Mr. Vincent, but seemed somehow to bring him to mind?

After they changed topics, Jane and Mr. Dunkirk were able to speak quite amiably of taste and art for the remainder of the meal until it was time for the ladies to withdraw.