The Painter's Apprentice (30 page)

July 1688

July opened with a heatwave. The milk soured and the meat turned. The gardener’s apprentices constantly grumbled about the
blisters on their hands from their endless toil of carrying water to the Bishop’s precious specimen trees.

One sweltering afternoon at the end of July, too hot to work, Beth was lying barefoot and daydreaming in the shade of the
oak tree down by the moat, her bodice laces loosened. A flagon of cider sat at her side. Noah had been conspicuous by his
absence most of the month; she missed him so badly that her work had suffered.

A deep sense of frustration had risen up in her since there had been no opportunity to see him alone. Every day she listened
to the ticking clock in her head that carried her closer to the time that Noah would leave. And every day had brought her
closer to the certainty that her happiness would never be complete without him.

‘Beth?’

She opened her eyes and sat up, disoriented, to find Noah smiling down upon her.

‘Did I wake you?’ he asked softly. He’d taken off his coat and slung it over one shoulder.

The top buttons of his shirt were undone so that she glimpsed the brown skin of his chest. She wondered what it would be like
to kiss him there, tasting his warm, salty skin with the tip of her tongue. ‘I haven’t seen you for a while,’ she said, hoping
her wanton thoughts weren’t plain to read on her face.

He sat down beside her. ‘There’s been a lot to do. Progress is slow on the building sites when it’s so hot. The men drink
more ale and then they fall asleep, or even worse, fall off the scaffolding.’ He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.
‘I’m tired of having to chastise them; it’s too hot to work but I want to be sure my projects are finished before I return.’

A cold chill snaked down Beth’s back, in spite of the heat. ‘Return to Virginia?’

Noah nodded. ‘Autumn will be upon us sooner than we expect.’ He drew a deep, sighing breath, his eyes sad.

‘Must you go, Noah?’ She wondered if he heard the pleading in her voice.

‘I have to, Beth.’

‘But
why?
Are you not happy? There’s work enough here to keep you for years to come.’

He didn’t look at her. ‘I promised I’d return this autumn.’

‘Promised who?’

He looked away. ‘My family. Myself. My future is in Virginia, Beth.’ He plucked a daisy from the grass and twirled it between
his finger and thumb, his face closed.

‘I can’t bear it!’ All she could think of was that the man she loved was leaving. ‘I thought you cared for me?’

‘I do,’ he said. His voice was quiet. ‘I do care for you, Beth.’ Savagely, he began to pull the petals off the daisy, one
by one.

‘Then …’ She gathered up all her courage and spoke before she could change her mind. ‘Then stay.’

He threw the mangled daisy to the ground and stood up, his face pale and set. ‘I cannot,’ he said, shaking his head. He lifted
a hand in farewell as he walked away.

Shock at his dismissal of her rendered her still for a moment but then her fear of losing him made her scramble to her feet.
Picking up her skirts, she ran barefoot across the grass after him. She caught hold of his sleeve and when he turned she saw
that his eyes were anguished. ‘Can you not see how much I love you?’ she begged. She waited, holding her breath.

‘Yes, I can see that.’

‘And … and can you not love me, too?’ she asked in a small voice. She shrivelled inside a little, dreading a polite rebuff.

‘Love you?’ His voice was full of pain. ‘Of
course
I love you. I’ve probably loved you since the first day I saw you but …’

Relief and elation suffused Beth with sudden joy.
He loved her!
That was all she needed to know. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He was curiously still for a moment,
then he groaned and returned her kisses with such passion that she trembled with yearning. Entwined, they sank down on to
the grass.

Noah’s hands were fanned against her waist and Beth strained against him, revelling in the feel of the heat and the hardness
of his body pressed so close to hers.

‘My sweet, lovely Beth.’ His breath was hot in her ear. ‘I dream of you at nights. You cannot imagine how I long for you.’

‘I love you so much, Noah! And I’ve been so miserable, not knowing if you loved me or not.’

He kissed her neck in the soft hollow above her collarbone, while his hands ran urgently down her thighs; she melted at his
touch, wanting the moment to never end. She pulled his shirt free from his breeches and slid her hands inside to stroke the
warm, naked skin of his back. He smelt of sunshine and a musky male scent which set her senses reeling.

All at once there was a loud splash followed by a shout nearby.

Beth gasped and Noah let her go as they both sat bolt upright.

One of the palace hunting dogs was swimming in the moat and Nicholas Tanner was running towards them.

Beth pulled grass out of her hair and glanced at Noah’s scarlet face as he steadied his breathing and hurriedly tucked his
shirt back into his breeches.

The dog scrambled up the bank, splattered them with mud as he vigorously shook himself dry and then rolled on his back in
the grass with apparent enjoyment.

Grinning, Nicholas Tanner came to stand beside them with his arms on his hips. ‘Did old Poacher give you a soaking?’

‘I’m tempted to jump into the moat myself,’ said Noah, standing up. ‘God knows it’s hot enough.’

Nicholas whistled to the dog. ‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ he said with a knowing smile. He ambled off, the dog at his heels.

Mortified, Beth stood up and shook out the creases from her skirt.

‘Beth, I’m sorry,’ said Noah. ‘I behaved abominably. I should have known that anyone could pass by and see us like that. Your
reputation …’

‘Then you’ll just have to make an honest woman of me,’ she said, glancing at him from under her eyelashes.

He said nothing but stared at her with anxiety in his toffee brown eyes.

Beth’s smile faded and her heart began to thud erratically. Had she made a terrible mistake and assumed too much?

‘You said you’d never marry,’ he reminded her.

‘But that was before I fell in love with you.’ He didn’t respond and an icy tremor of dread clawed at her insides. She watched
him close his eyes for a moment, as if to pray for the courage to say what had to be said. But then he smiled and a tiny flame
of hope rekindled in her heart.

‘Love strikes when you least look for it,’ he said quietly. ‘Or
perhaps even want it.’ There was a tiny tic at the corner of his eye; Beth longed to lean forward to kiss it away.

‘I certainly wasn’t looking for love,’ she said.

He took her hand and swung it between them as they walked over the tussocky grass of the orchard. ‘But if true love does come,
surely it’s wrong to ignore it?’ He didn’t look at her but spoke as if debating with himself. ‘True love is such a rare and
precious flower that you may never find again. Somehow you have to rearrange your life to allow it to bloom.’ He shaded his
eyes against the sun. ‘However difficult that may be.’

‘Yes,’ she said, a pulse fluttering wildly in her throat.

‘And I do want to spend the rest of my life with you, Beth.’ He looked at her then and lifted her hand to his lips. ‘Oh, how
I want that!’

She let out a pent up sigh of relief and it seemed to her that all the birds in the orchard began to sing. He did love her
after all. ‘But Johannes was right in a way,’ she said. ‘If I am to continue with my painting, I’ll have to work at it constantly,
just as you must work at your skills in architecture. But cannot there be a balance?’

‘I understand how necessary it is to your happiness for you to have the freedom to paint. We will, we
must
, find a way.’

Another thought occurred to her making her stomach churn with anxiety again. ‘Noah, there’s one thing you must know,’ she
said. ‘I have no dowry.’ She waited for two long seconds before he threw his head back and laughed as if she had said something
especially amusing.

‘That’s the least of our worries!’

Beth made a sound halfway between a sob and a laugh. Noah loved her and everything was going to be all right.

‘I will speak to your father,’ said Noah, ‘but until then we must keep our love a secret.’

She took a deep lungful of the overheated air, joy threatening to overflow into tears. All at once the world was full of promise
again.
Johannes had been wrong; it was plain to her now that Noah was essential to her happiness. Strengthened by his love and encouragement,
she knew she would achieve artistic goals she hadn’t yet dreamed of.

Beth travelled back to Chelsea in a state of euphoria that evening and even Lady Arabella’s disparaging comments at the supper
table failed to dampen her elation.

‘It’s not so much fun here any more,’ complained Cecily as they undressed for bed. She took off her busk and rubbed at the
angry red weals on her waist.

‘You shouldn’t lace so tightly when it’s hot. It’ll make you faint,’ said Beth. ‘Sir George is worried and that makes Lady
Arabella short-tempered.’

‘I don’t understand why he’s so
angry
all the time. He never used to be.’

‘He’s worked hard to make the King notice him but it’s plain now that the people of this country will no longer support the
appointment of Catholics into senior positions.’

‘Oh well, it’s probably a passing storm. Anyway, the King can do whatever he likes, that’s what Grandmama says.’ Cecily passed
Beth her nightshift and frowned. ‘You look more cheerful, anyway. You’ve been so distracted of late that you never seemed
to hear me when I spoke to you. Has something happened?’

Beth couldn’t contain a wide smile. ‘Noah has declared his love for me.’

Squealing in delight, Cecily threw herself into her sister’s arms. ‘I knew it! I knew it!’

‘But it’s a secret and you mustn’t tell anyone yet.’

Cecily’s face fell. ‘Why ever not?’

‘Because Noah must speak to Father first.’

‘So you’re not going to be a miserable old spinster, after all?’

‘It would appear not,’ said Beth, laughing.

‘Oh,
how
I wish Harry would declare himself to me!’ sighed Cecily as she climbed into bed.

Beth suffered a pang for her sister’s sake. Harry de Montford would disappoint poor Cecily. Pretty as she was, would she ever
find a man who loved her enough to take her without a dowry?

‘Goodnight, Beth.’

‘Night, Cecily.’ Beth blew out the candle and lay with her hands behind her head, smiling into the dark.

‘Beth? You won’t go and live in Virginia, like Kit, will you?’

‘Don’t worry about that. There’s plenty of building work going on in this country and Sir Christopher Wren needs good architects.’

‘That’s all right then,’ yawned Cecily.

Beth lay awake for a long time, her joy suddenly tinged with anxiety. Something she and Noah hadn’t discussed was where they
would live.

August came and continued to be hot. The grass scorched brown and the Bishop’s prized snakebark maple withered and died. The
palace household moved about their tasks with a weary lassitude, leaving corners unscrubbed and windows fly-spotted. Even
the bees drifted lazily from flower to flower as if it were all too much bother. The moat and the privies stank, pervading
the air with the foul stench of decay.

Judith came to visit Beth in her studio. ‘Have you heard what happened?’ she asked, panting after the exertion of hurrying
up the stairs. Her cheeks shone in the afternoon heat like ripe plums.

‘No, what?’ Reluctantly, Beth laid down her paintbrush, casting a glance at the half finished study of a creamy lily with
orange stamens quivering with pollen. The paint dried out rapidly in the heat and she needed to complete the pale green wash
of shadow under the curve of the petals. Ever since Noah had declared himself, she had
found it easy to paint again. Johannes would have been proud of the way her work had become so assured and at the same time
so prolific.