Victoria Wentworth sat alone at the table
where Wellington had dined with sixteen
of his field officers the night before he
set out for
... [Show More] Waterloo.
General Sir Harry Wentworth sat
at the right hand of the Iron Duke that
night, and was commanding his left flank
when a defeated Napoleon rode off the
battlefield and into exile. A grateful
monarch bestowed on the general the
title Earl of Wentworth, which the family
had borne proudly since 1815.
These thoughts were running
through Victoria’s mind as she read Dr
Petrescu’s report for a second time.
When she turned the last page, she let out
a sigh of relief. A solution to all her
problems had been found, quite literally
at the eleventh hour.
The dining-room door opened
noiselessly and Andrews, who from
second footman to butler had served
three generations of Wentworths, deftly
removed her ladyship’s dessert plate.
Thank you,’ Victoria said, and
waited until he had reached the door
before she added, ‘and has everything
been arranged for the removal of the
painting?’ She couldn’t bring herself to
mention the artist’s name.
Yes, m’lady/ Andrews replied,
turning back to face his mistress.
The picture will have been
dispatched before you come down for
breakfast.’
‘And has everything been
prepared for Dr Petrescu’s visit?’
Yes, m’lady,’ repeated Andrews.
‘Dr Petrescu is expected around midday
on Wednesday, and I have already
informed cook that she will be joining
you for lunch in the conservatory.’
“Thank you, Andrews,’ said
Victoria. The butler gave a slight bow
and quietly closed the heavy oak door
behind him.
By the time Dr Petrescu arrived,
one of the family’s most treasured
heirlooms would be on its way to
America, and although the masterpiece
would never be seen at Wentworth Hall
again, no one outside the immediate
family need be any the wiser.
Victoria folded her napkin and
rose from the table. She picked up Dr
Petrescu’s report and walked out of the
dining room and into the hall. The sound
of her shoes echoed in the marble
hallway.
She paused at the foot of the
staircase to admire Gainsborough’s fulllength
portrait of Catherine, Lady
Wentworth, who was dressed in a
magnificent long silk and taffeta gown,
set off by a diamond necklace and
matching earrings. Victoria touched her
ear and smiled at the thought that such an
extravagant bauble must have been
considered quite risque” at the time.
Victoria looked steadfastly ahead
as she climbed the wide marble
staircase to her bedroom on the first
floor. She felt unable to look into the
eyes of her ancestors, brought to life by
Romney,
Lawrence, Reynolds, Lely and
Kneller, conscious of having let them all
down. Victoria accepted that before she
retired to bed she must finally write to
her sister and let her know the decision
she had come to. [Show Less]