A House Divided by Sulari Gentill

Author:Sulari Gentill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2020-08-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

There was already quite a throng at Boongala when they arrived. Edna was noticeably quiet. She tugged at the beaded fringing of her favourite gown. The dress had taken her weeks to make and she delighted in wearing it still, although now it was a couple of years old. Styles had changed quite dramatically in the past few seasons. Waistlines had gone up, and hemlines down. The men she lived with assured her she looked fine. But then, they were men. In the circles in which she usually moved, being a couple of seasons behind the latest fashion rarely warranted notice. Especially now. But of course, people like the Campbells did not need to show that kind of restraint. They would be dressed beautifully.

Rowland fiddled absently with the sleeve of his black dinner jacket. He had only just noticed a streak of crimson paint on the cuff. He couldn’t remember painting in his dinner suit, but he must have done so. It didn’t really concern him. It wasn’t too noticeable, and he was, after all, a painter. He turned to Edna, noting the way she glanced at the society women who were entering the house ahead of them. Her eyes were large, mildly panicked. He was surprised. Surely Edna could not be uncertain about the way she looked. “Ready?”

She nodded.

Unexpectedly, it was Eric Campbell himself who welcomed them warmly at the front door. Their host took them through to the manicured gardens, which had been laid out for a most elegant occasion. Nancy Campbell received them graciously, and after a barely perceptible pause, complimented Edna on her attire. “My dear, what a sweet dress. I used to have one quite like it.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Campbell. Your home is just lovely.”

Eric Campbell took Rowland with him, leaving his wife to introduce Edna to the ladies.

“De Groot”—Campbell summoned a slim, slightly built gentleman— “I want you to meet Clyde Watson Jones, who will win the Archibald this year with a portrait of yours truly. Clyde, this is Captain Francis De Groot.”

“Indeed,” De Groot responded in an accent that was distinctly Irish. He shook Rowland’s hand. “May I say, Mr. Watson Jones, you have timed the selection of your subject well.”

Campbell laughed. “We shall see, Frank, we shall see.”

Rowland chatted with De Groot as Eric Campbell moved among his other guests. De Groot was a softly spoken retired soldier, now manufacturing period furniture and dealing in antiques. While he did not say so explicitly, Rowland gathered he was quite highly positioned in the New Guard hierarchy. De Groot’s admiration for Campbell was clear.

Over De Groot’s shoulder, Rowland saw Edna holding court among the ladies. The sculptress seemed to have overcome her earlier self-consciousness and simply sparkled. Rowland sipped his drink and watched as she engaged those around her with her gentle wit. She was not really his, but he was quietly pleased that the other men in attendance thought she was.

De Groot regained Rowland’s attention with a polite cough, introducing him to another guest, a younger man, John Dynon, who described himself as a glass merchant.

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