The Noble Lady
“This is how you see me?” Lisa asked peeking over the artist shoulder.
“This is how the world will see you,” he replied.
“I don’t understand.”
“You are a virtuous woman, noble and wealthy.”
“Noble?” she flipped her skirts as she turned to gaze out of the window.
“I am no more noble than the woman in the street selling cakes.”
“You are more noble than any queen or duchess I have ever met. The world will come to see you as I do.”
“And how many queens have you met? The world will not see me. They do not see me now. I am a daughter, a mother, a wife. Nothing more. The portrait you paint is for my husband, not the world.”
“Noble is not a title my lady. It is something that shines from your soul.”
Lisa looked at him and smirked. She shook her head and returned to her pose for the portrait.
“Do that again,” he commanded.
“The look you gave me.”
She complied and he worked quickly, his brush dipping into the paints and touching the canvas. When he was finished, he dropped his brushes, covered the canvas and began packing his supplies.
“You are done?” she asked.
“Not yet, but done for today.”
“May I see?”
“You have seen enough.”
“Is it any good?”
“I think we shall leave that for the world to decide.”
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer