The Portrait by Somerton L.M

Author:Somerton, L.M. [Somerton, L.M.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Total-E-Bound Publishing
Published: 2012-12-15T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

That afternoon, Tristan made some progress. He found old ledgers that recorded the transfer of the house and land to Gabriel Blackwood in 1632.

In documents written in 1634, he found references to amounts paid for ‘portraiture and landscapes’, but no named artist. The ledgers were fascinating, listing all chattels and transactions of the estate on a daily basis. They painted a detailed picture of the life of the house under Blackwood’s ownership. Tristan found further references to amounts paid for artwork, but no more information, and decided to try a different tack.

The house steward’s diary was more revealing. In it, he spoke of the arrival of a new artist in residence and the need for furnishings and decorations to the tower. His lordship had been demanding and specific about what had been needed and reference was made to heavy iron door furniture—bolts and latches that were to be fitted to the outside of the door only, manufactured by the village blacksmith.

Tristan rubbed at his eyes, which were growing grainy and sore. Squinting at the cramped old English was giving him a headache. Still, he was making progress. What he really needed was Blackwood’s own diary, but he had found no sign that any such thing existed yet. He glanced at the clock and swore. Four-thirty! He ran for the studio.

“You’re late.”

Garrick’s tone was mild, but Tristan wasn’t fooled.

“We’ll discuss your lack of punctuality later.”

Tristan flushed and tried not to imagine where that discussion might lead.

There was a white sheet on the floor and a screen set up against one wall. In the centre of the sheet was a simple wooden chair.

“I have a good idea of how I want the picture to look, but I want to experiment with some shapes—some poses, if you like. You hold the positions for a while and I’ll do some rough sketches, okay?”

Tristan nodded—it didn’t seem too difficult.

“Good. Take your clothes off.”

“Why?”

Garrick frowned. “Just do as you’re told Tristan.”

“Not until you tell me why.”

“My model for the final piece will be nude. This is a life portrait. I can’t work out exactly what I want to do with clothes obscuring your body. If it makes you more comfortable, you can keep your underwear on.”

“You’re so kind.”

Garrick raised one dark eyebrow. “You are feeling brave today, aren’t you? Questions, sarcasm and lateness—this evening is going to be fun.”

As Tristan undressed, Garrick told him a little more about the painting. “It’s going to be entered in a competition that raises money for charity. The theme is ‘the unbound spirit’ and I was asked to enter by the owner of the gallery displaying the works. There will be a viewing charge, and then all the pictures will be auctioned when the exhibition closes. I intend to show how the spirit can be free even when the body is captive.”

Tristan didn’t complain as he was positioned in a range of poses, both with and without the chair, for the next two hours.

“I’m going to use real chains in the actual picture, but I thought you might object to that for preliminary sketches.

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