Pierre turned to the voice and saw that his host’s elder son was stood a few feet behind him. He turned back to the painting and nodded;
“Ah yes, it is indeed a privilege to be able to look upon the original, and in such otherwise beautiful surroundings as awell, rather than in a crowded and rowdy public gallery. Did you meet the maestro when your father commissioned the piece?”
“Alas no, I was away being fostered to a neighbouring baron; learning the laws of war and chivalry and I missed that chance. My younger brother, Oswald, met him and spoke to him as often as he could.”
Pierre nodded again and turned back to Gerard.
“I was thinking of taking a short ride for the sake of my health and to pass some time. Your father has graciously asked me to dine with him, but he cannot spare me any time before dinner. I do not wish to be under foot. Would you be kind enough to join me and show me the estate?”
Gerard grinned, clearly some, or perhaps all, of this request suited his tastes.
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