But still his head is filled with thoughts of Lilith Montgomery. He might well have been able to keep his musings in check, had she not taken it upon herself to accompany Charlotte to each and every one of her sittings. This means that he is required to paint while Charlotte sits, or rather lies, semiclad in front of him, unable to hold a pose for more than a few seconds without fidgeting; Mangan, having produced some wild sketches, paces like a caged lion, gesticulating with hammer and chisel but getting very little in the way of actual sculpting done; Gudrun stomps in and out of the studio with, apparently, the sole intention of upsetting people; Perry dithers about proffering materials and tools and generally getting in the way; Jane fights a losing battle to keep the children, and George, either quiet or out of the house; and Lilith sits, still as a sphinx and quite as inscrutable, observing the chaotic proceedings with what Bram can only imagine to be disdain.

It isn’t until she shifts slightly to return his gaze that he realizes he has been staring at her.

“Shouldn’t you be looking at Charlotte?” she asks, with the faintest hint of a smile. “She is the one you’re painting, after all.”

Bram feels himself blushing like a schoolboy. He pointedly dabs at the palette of oil paints poised on his arm. He tries to think of a witty response, but there is too much noise around him, and too much confusion in his own mind. What is clear to him, by Lilith’s manner and the few words she has spoken during these sittings, is that her opinion of him seems to have softened somewhat. He wonders what has brought this about. The first time he encountered her in the studio she had him down as a hopeless opium user, a bad friend, and a likely dangerous influence on Charlotte. Now she appears to be if not quite friendly, at least not openly hostile toward him.

And that matters to me, though it should not. Why would I care what she thinks? We can never be so much as friends. I would be a fool to think otherwise. Maybe I am a fool, then, for I cannot deny I am affected by her presence.

He attempts to concentrate on his painting. Charlotte is a glamorous beauty, who offers a decorative and elegant image to capture. Despite the noisy atmosphere of the studio, and the not inconsiderable distraction of having Lilith there, he is moderately pleased with his work.

Perry appears at his shoulder.

“Oh, I say, Bram. That is rather good.”

“It is some way off being completed yet.”

“Even so, you must be pleased. Has Mangan seen it?”