But Mr. Vincent was right. Though her colours were correct, and her use of light and shading exacting, the whole of it was lifeless and dull. Jane grabbed the book and almost threw it at the painting, her arm already drawing back to throw before she thought better of her actions, bit the inside of her cheek, and fell back against the bed.

If he wanted to see emotion in her work, she would shew it to him. Jane opened his book and began to read.

When Nancy called Jane to dinner, her head was heavy with new ideas. The book was not laid out in any ordered way; it wandered from subject to subject as Mr. Vincent had thought of them. He sketched out notions for glamurals and spoke of the ideas underlying his plans.

With reluctance, Jane tore herself away and joined her family for dinner, but if anything was said of import, she did not hear it. Her head was too full.

Mr. Ellsworth reached across the table and put his hand on hers. “Where have you been, Jane?”

She started. “I beg your pardon.”

“I asked, what do you think about going to Bath?” Seeing Jane’s uncomprehending expression, he continued, “Melody has just proposed it for your mother’s health. Your mother, naturally, thinks this a splendid idea. What do you think?”

“I had not thought that the waters at Bath were considered a good curative for nervous complaints. I would rather think that the noise and crowding should be too much for Mama.” To go to Bath, no, Jane could not tolerate that. Its reputation as a place of healing only existed to justify its status as a retreat for society. One might speak of going to Bath to escape the crush of social obligations, but they were more numerous in Bath than anywhere save London during the social season. Then, too, if Jane were honest, she was worried that a move to Bath would force her into company with Lady FitzCameron and Mr. Vincent, and she needed more time to study before she saw him again.

“Charles, do not listen to that silly girl. Bath is quite the right thing for me, even if my nerves cannot improve, as the doctor says. I have so many other complaints for which it would do a world of good. Ask Melody, she will tell you. Only do ask her.”

“I am certain, Papa, that a removal to Bath would be the best. I worry so about Mama.”

Trying a new tactic, Jane said, “Perhaps we should ask Dr. Smythe. He knows Mama’s needs best, surely. Would it not be best to see if he thinks it will do Mama more harm or good?”

Mr. Ellsworth nodded at the reasonableness of her suggestion. “I shall ask him on his next visit.”

“I could perish by then. You know how my nerves are. Really. Charles, I should think that you did not care for me at all the way you are willing to let me suffer.”