“And now if you would remove your scarf, Lady Charlotte,” he said, pointing with the brush to her head. She had worn the scarf since his arrival no doubt to press her hair a trick many woman used before a sitting.
“But another beer first?” said the Duke who was coming at him with a fresh tankard.
“Another beer?” said Shackleton, certain he had already had way too much.
“Hair of the dog,” said the Duke, thrusting the fresh tankard into the Englishman’s hand. He was grinning.
“Hair of the dog,” said Shackleton weakly. He blinked, shook his head, then lifted the tankard and drank it dry for this was the only way John Shackleton knew how to drink – straight down the gullet until the tankard was bone dry. When he finished Charlotte had removed her scarf and was waiting. He looked at her, smiled a beery smile, looked back to the canvas – stopped. He frowned, looked at her hair again, frowned again, tilted his head, squinted, craned his neck, squinted harder still, then tilted his head to the left this time in much the way a dog hearing a strange whistle does.
“Is there anything wrong, Herr Shackleton?” asked the Duke who had perched himself on a stool next to his sister.
“No, no – just the light … I think,” said Shackleton.
The Duke and Princess looked at the glorious sunshine pouring into the hall. Shackleton looked at the glorious sunshine pouring into the hall and thought: No, it’s not the light – but then what can it be?
He laughed. “Old eyes playing tricks on me, I expect – haw haw.”
The Duke and Princess smiled politely. Shackleton reached into his vest pocket for his spectacles and put them on. He stared at the girl’s head again and suddenly his beery face lost all color. He dropped the paint-brush and nearly tipped over the easel. He grabbed for his heart – “Heavenly Father!” he gasped.
The Duke jumped off the stool. “Herr Shackleton – are you all right?”
“Me, all right? Yes, sir – perfectly all right,” said Shackleton righting himself.
But Shackleton wasn’t all right because it had suddenly dawned on him where he had seen hair like Charlotte’s before – the Negro girl who sells ginger cakes in front of Newgate Jail!
Get the full Book Here:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00A30EZVM
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends