Shades of the Past (9 page)

Perhaps the greatest prize of the collection was a fine field camera for photographing large, outdoor scenes such as landscapes and architecture.  She even found a unique swiveling lens to fit it, making it possible to record panoramic scenes.  With some practice, she should be able to capture breathtaking views of Sherringham and the surrounding countryside.

In addition to the marvelous assortment of cameras, there were reams of paper, all of high-quality, and a store of glass plates for negatives, their sharp edges already sanded smooth and ready to be sensitized.  There were also quantities of powdered chemicals, sealed and preserved in glass jars.

Together, Vanessa and Geoffrey labored steadily throughout the afternoon.  She handled the more delicate and dangerous materials and assigned her young assistant to less risky tasks.  He busied himself setting out washing trays, porcelain pans and dishes, and an army of glassware—bottles, funnels, dippers, syringes, and more.  When he'd finished with those, he filled buckets with water and stationed them at designated places around the room.

As they worked, Vanessa took the opportunity to explain some basic principles to Geoffrey, including her darkroom rules, as she termed them.

Shelving the last of the chemicals and solutions, Vanessa instructed Geoffrey to touch nothing there.  "Most are highly poisonous and they can blister your skin right up," she explained.  "They can blind you, as well, should any get in your eyes."

She pointed to the buckets.  "That is one reason we always keep clean water on hand—for emergencies of various kinds.  We also wash our hands a
lot
."  She smiled then surveyed their work.

"Do you remember why we set up a 'wet' and 'dry' side in the room?" 

Geoffrey nodded, eager to show he'd paid attention.  "The 'wet' side is for developing and printing and it's always located near a source of water." 

"That's right.  We'll be using a great deal of water for all our processes.  And, what of the 'dry' side?  What is it used for?"

"To expose the negatives," he said brightly.

"Very good!  Geoffrey, you are remarkable.  I do believe you are ready for your first photography lesson."

"Really?  You mean with the camera?"

She chuckled at that.  "Yes, with the camera.  We are finished here.  I thought we'd set up on the east lawn and photograph your relatives taking their tea on the terrace.  You will be my assistant."

"Capital!"  He grinned, using his favorite word.

 Vanessa glanced down at her soiled work dress, then at his clothes and tousled hair.  "Of course, we need to freshen up.  A photographer must always be presentable while publicly employed at his craft."

She consulted her pocket watch. 

"Let us meet back here in the Photo House in thirty minutes.  That will give us ample time to transfer our equipment to the east lawn.  Have you a watch, Geoffrey?    He shook his head.  "No, Mrs. Wynters, but I won't be late.  I promise!" 

He dashed from the room on a wave of excitement. 

Vanessa followed at a slower pace, smiling at his energy and passion.

»«

For her photographing session, Vanessa chose to wear a walking ensemble of dark blue serge.  Its ample skirt would not hobble her step, and its short jacket, while close-fitting, was designed with enough ease to allow her the freedom of movement she required.  She added to this comfortable, low-heeled boots.

As Vanessa pinned her hair atop her head, she felt supremely happy and equally terrified.  Since Reginald's death, she'd been forced to be self-reliant.  She'd been fortunate in her employment to Lady Gwen.  Now startlingly, overnight, she'd essentially become her own employer. 

Her natural impulses cried out that she follow a more conventional, secure course than to pursue photography professionally.  Perhaps, it would not seem so risky a venture were she a man, for then the entire world would be open to her.  As a woman, most doors were firmly shut. 

Thanks to the generosity of Adrian Marrable, she would be free of financial concerns for a full year and more as she sought to establish herself.  It was crucial she succeed.  She did not wish him to feel his confidence or money to be misplaced in her, of course.  But even more important, she needed a dependable means of supporting herself for the years to come. 

While many a widowed lady of her age might hope to make another marriage, she could not.  It was not that she was opposed to the thought of remarrying, should she find a man whom she could love and respect.  The truth of the matter was, she feared she was barren. 

Vanessa gave forth a resigned sigh, her hand slipping downward to rest over her abdomen.  How could she ask a man to commit himself to her for a lifetime when she very likely could bear him no children?  How could she hope he'd wish to do so?  Despite her own heartache over the matter, she knew she must face the future knowing she would need to make her own way and provide for herself until the end of her days.

Unwilling to dwell further on her unhappy circumstance, Vanessa glanced over the splendidly appointed room with its rosette window and elegant furnishings.  Her spirits lifted.  She would have the opportunity to photograph it after all, along with Sherringham's other treasures.

As her gaze drew to the antique dresser, she spied a clean handkerchief lying folded neatly atop it.  Retrieving the linen, she noted the monogram it bore—"
L. M."
  Despite her instructions to the maid, the handkerchief had been mistakenly returned to the guest chamber rather than delivered to Lawrence.  She slipped the handkerchief into the pocket in her skirt, deciding she could attend to the matter easily enough herself. 

Departing the room, Vanessa quickened along the corridor of the Upper Cloisters, her thoughts reaching ahead to the Photo House and the equipment she required for the group portrait of the Marrables at tea.

Vanessa and Geoffrey arrived at the east terrace before the others, save for the servants who were busily setting out the table and arranging it with fine linen and china. 

Seeing that a flight of low, broad steps fronted the terrace with no balustrade obstructing the view, Vanessa chose to set up her equipment on the lawn. 

She first walked the ground, assessing where to position her camera for the best perspective and the proper distance she would need from her subject.

"It is important to envision the finished photograph in your mind before you begin working with the camera itself," she explained to Geoffrey, who trailed behind her with the leggy tripod in his arms.

Stopping slightly left of the terrace, she held up her hands before her, the tips of her thumbs touching and her forefingers extended skyward, framing the terrace and the activity there.  She took two measured paces backward. 

"Yes, this will be good."

After situating the tripod, Vanessa and Geoffrey began transferring the other equipment from where they'd left it resting on the green.

Geoffrey watched fascinated as Vanessa unlatched a plain oaken box and folded back its hinged panels, revealing the camera compacted within.  Firmly but gently she pulled the front lens panel forward, extending the attached maroon-colored bellows.

"Smashing!" Geoffrey exclaimed.

"A camera is no more than a box, really," she said as she affixed the camera onto the tripod.  "It supports a lens at the front and a plate holder at the back.  The leather bellows form the main body, but the whole affair is 'light-tight,' as we say."

Geoffrey scrunched his face as he eyed the shilling-sized hole in the front panel.  "I don't see a lens."

"Patience."  She smiled, turning to a small chest they'd brought and opening its lid.  From a box nested inside, she lifted out a costly lens and fitted its brass barrel in place.

Next, she draped the black focusing cloth over the back of the camera then ducked underneath to inspect the image on the glass viewing screen.  Emerging for a brief moment, she made adjustments to the lens and bellow extension then checked the glass again.

"Light passes through the lens and reflects the image onto the back screen," she continued to lesson Geoffrey as she brought the image into focus.  "Here, have a look for yourself."

The lad happily took her place, disappearing under the cloth.

"It's upside down!"  He sounded roundly disappointed.

"True, but you will find that actually helps us compose better photographs,” she assured.

"Oh, look, there's Mama and Papa.  They're walking on their heads!  And, they've brought our new puppy.  He doesn't have a name yet, but Mama wants to call him Crumpet." 

Geoffrey popped out from beneath the cloth and waved madly toward the terrace.

"Why don't you take a moment to visit them?" Vanessa suggested, seeing the boy's excitement as he tried to catch the pup's attention.

While Geoffrey dashed to join his family, Vanessa continued to work, thankful the day was favorable enough to take tea out-of-doors.  "September blows soft," she murmured to herself, mindful that all too soon the days would shorten and grow cold.

Pondering the composition that appeared on the viewing plate, she decided to move the camera another foot to the left and increase its angle.  In so doing, not only would she be able to capture the central portion of the terrace with its rugged stone facade and huge windows of plate glass, but also the wonderful tower to the right of it, occupying the corner where the east and south wings met. 

There, a scarlet creeper scaled its face, encompassing a row of diamond-paned windows on the second story.  The creeper climbed higher still, to where arrow slits punctured the wall, ringing the tower beneath its crenellated crown.

Vanessa knew it would be impossible to capture the upper half of the tower, but she succeeded in including the picturesque windows within the picture’s frame. 

Emerging from the cloth, Vanessa took up her notebook and began penciling in notations.  Geoffrey rejoined her just as she dipped beneath the cloth again. 

She scanned the focused image for distortions around the margins, then paused as Majel and her husband appeared on the glass.  Even though the figures were inverted, Vanessa observed a marked coolness between the two sisters as they met.  She remembered then Majel and Cissy were to have begun dividing Lady Gwen's jewels between themselves this afternoon.

Leaving the camera, Vanessa located the box containing her Waterhouse stops.  As she straightened, she noticed Lawrence emerge from a door onto the terrace.  His eyes drew to her immediately.  With a smile and nod of his head, he acknowledged her presence without hint that anything improper had passed between them earlier in the Photo House.  She sincerely hoped the man would comport himself fittingly throughout tea.

Vanessa redirected her attention to Geoffrey who was amusing himself with the images on the viewing glass.

"Can we take the photograph now?"  His face appeared from under the focusing cloth, hopeful expectancy stamping his features.

"In a moment, Geoffrey.  We still must decide on the correct exposure."  She opened the velvet-lined box containing a dozen brass discs.  "These are called stops, and they slip into a slot on the front of the lens.  They help control the amount of light entering the camera.  The shutter controls the amount of time the light is allowed in."

She cast another brief glance to the terrace to see if Lord Marrable had yet arrived, and felt a flash of disappointment that he had not.

"But, how do you know which stops to use?"  Geoffrey's brows pulled together as he peered into the box.

"By experience and instinct."  She winked and added, "And by keeping excellent notes."

Timmons drew her gaze as he and his assistant arrived on the terrace with trays of sandwiches and cakes and an elaborate silver tea service.  Majel seated herself behind the cups and shiny pot, prepared to preside as hostess.  Meanwhile, the puppy took notice of the stuffed bird atop Majel's hat and broke into a rash of yapping.  Pasha, the blue-gray Persian cat, which had been lazing on a step, darted for higher ground and found security on a nearby ledge.

Vanessa's mood dipped as the others began to engage in the rituals of afternoon tea.  Had Lord Marrable sent word he would not be attending?

Ignoring a fresh and inexplicable wave of disappointment, Vanessa turned back to Geoffrey.  Taking up her notebook, she opened it to the back.

"Lady Gwen and I worked out a table to determine the proper exposure under different conditions," she began, showing him the page.  "There is much to consider—the brightness or dullness of the day, the differing intensities of light reflected from the objects and surfaces in the picture, the details contained in the shadows.

"You will hear me say often the camera records light and form," she continued.  "Look at the terrace—the people, the stone, and paned windows behind them.  Think of it all in terms of light, shapes, and textures.  Now, look at the vines on the tower." 

She lifted her arm and pointed to the creeper surrounding the upper windows. 

"See how those lay in deep shadow.  We won't want to lose any of their definition nor that of the leaded glass."

A fleck of movement caught the corner of her eye.  Skimming a glance to the terrace, Vanessa found Adrian Marrable standing there, his midnight eyes fixed upon her.

Vanessa stilled as their eyes locked, her arm yet lifted high.  His gaze swept down over her and back again, so swiftly she questioned in the next instance whether he'd done so at all.  Yet, her flesh tingled most shockingly beneath her gown, the path of that sensation matching that of Lord Marrable’s visual caress.

Vanessa broke away her gaze and lowered her arm, diverting her attention to the box of discs.  She fumbled for the desired piece, feeling as though she'd just sprouted ten thumbs.

"Here, Geoffrey.  Why don't you insert the stop?  Look for the slot on top of the lens barrel."

"Oh, may I?"  He exclaimed, taking the disc and hastening to do so.

Vanessa flicked a glance back to the terrace and discovered that Lawrence had moved to Adrian's side and now engaged him in conversation.

Adrian?
  Had she truly just mentally referred to Viscount Marrable so personally?  Vanessa reprimanded herself for the slip.  It would not do to think of the unfathomable master of Sherringham in familiar terms.  Indeed, judging by the clamorous warning sounding in her heart, she suspected it would be supremely hazardous to do so.

Daring another glance, she watched as he took a chair at the table's left end and answered a question that Cissy’s husband posed.  Vanessa took a small swallow at the powerful figure the viscount cut, so potently virile even while seated and seemingly relaxed. 

"I don't understand, Mrs. Wynters."  Geoffrey's young voice broke through her thoughts.                                           "How is the picture made?  Is it etched onto the viewing glass?"

"What?  Oh, no.  Not at all," she replied distractedly.  Forcing her attention from the terrace scene, she turned to the lad.  "Once we complete our adjustments, we will remove the screen at the back of the camera and replace it with a specially sensitized glass plate.  It will become the negative." 

She felt the pull of Lord Marrable's dark eyes, reaching across the green to her.  She resisted the temptation to meet his gaze, though found, by tilting her head, she could glimpse him in her peripheral vision, staring intently in her direction.

 She cleared her throat.  "What was I saying?  Oh, yes.  The plate is coated with an emulsion containing silver nitrate.  The crystals of silver are what record the image. They are highly sensitive to light and turn black when exposed to it."

Vanessa's resistance wavered.  Hesitantly, she lifted her eyes toward the terrace and instantly met Adrian Marrable's magnetic gaze.  Her mouth turned desert dry.

"I'm not sure I understand."  Geoffrey cocked his head to one side.

"Neither am I," she said softly, wondering why the Viscount should be staring at her so.  She moistened her lips.  "I mean, that's quite all right, Geoffrey.  There's much to learn.  You’ll better understand as we work through the various steps of the process.

With that, Vanessa took refuge under the focusing cloth, claiming the need to examine the viewing glass once more.  Her heart beat steady and rapid as she observed Lord Marrable there.  Even upside down and in reverse, his was a surpassing figure.

She inclined her head to one side to better view him, feeling the weight of the cloth drag at her hair as she did.

Adrian Marrable had the most magnificent brows, she decided.  They arched wide, bracketing his large, ebony eyes. 

There was something guarded in the depths of those eyes.  It was a look that was ever present.  Yet, just now, she beheld something more there, something intense, burning. 

 Vanessa shifted, again aware of the cloth pulling at her hair and thought to feel several pins slip out of place.  As she viewed the four Marrable siblings, it struck her how different were their looks, most especially Lord Marrable.  While Lawrence's head shone of bright gold, Majel possessed gingery hair.  Cissy's tended to the brown tones, though nowhere nearly as dark as her brother Adrian's.  None of the younger Marrables bore the viscount's midnight eyes.

"Mrs. Wynters.  May I have another look?"  Geoffrey tugged at her skirt.  "Mrs. Wynters?"

With a start, she realized she'd been beneath the cloth overlong.  "Yes, of course you may." 

Vanessa emerged from the fabric thoroughly heated, sure she glowed red.  Tendrils of hair dangled before eyes, having escaped their confines.  She started to smooth them back into place but the touch of her hand sent more hairpins flying.  The coil of hair atop her head began to slide to one side then travel downward.   

She grabbed for the lopsided mass and forced it back up.  Salvaging what pins she could find, she twirled her hair back into a high soft bun and secured it as best she could.  But the pins proved too few, and her thick hair too heavy.  Again, her bun slid off center then began to unfurl altogether, sending more pins into the grass. 

Vanessa captured her hair as it tumbled past her right ear.  Discovering Lord Marrable's gaze resting steadily upon her, a light smile playing at the corner of his lips, Vanessa abandoned her efforts.  Twisting her hair, she draped the coil over one shoulder and left it at that.

Her pulse pounded foolishly as she made an additional check of the shutter, though it needed none.

"Mama is waving us over for tea, Mrs. Wynters."

Looking up, Vanessa saw Cissy bidding them to join the others.

"Run ahead, Geoffrey.  I'll be right behind you." 

Vanessa closed the chest containing her supplies, then followed.  As she crossed the green, Lord Marrable watched her approach.  Beneath his consuming gaze, she felt positively naked.

»«

Adrian battled against elemental instincts and an array of emotions he'd long buried and denied.  They'd leaped jarringly to life the moment he first set eyes on Vanessa Wynters.  And now, with each new encounter, they grew stronger and more mutinous against his will.