The paintings were not what Shay expected. They were all very good. For some reason she thought many might have been a little childish, as those that the girls were painting at school.

Shay assumed, because they were unknown painters, their work would not be so perfect. She stood with her mouth agape at the scenes before her. All were so realistic. Beautiful landscapes with rivers and water wheels. Women sitting in the sun or staring out of windows. Street scenes full of market places and men dressed in kaftans, their heads draped in cloth. Families around dinner tables and mothers holding babies. These paintings took Shay to places she had never dreamed of. Her face hurt from smiling.

"Very beautiful."

Shay took her eyes from the painting of a tree lined street where a carriage stood in the sunset, to the man who had spoken in English. "Yes," Shay answered as she looked back at the painting. "It is the most magnificent sunset I have ever seen."

"Oui," the man chuckled and speaking in French said, "The painting is also very beautiful. Please let me introduce myself. I am Marquis Cordo, Claude Cordo, Mademoiselle." He sighed and took her hand. "If you would please forgive my forwardness I must admit I was referring to you, and not the painting." He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it.

"Oh." Shay didn't know how to respond to his comment, so again she answered him in English, hoping to have him believe she couldn't speak French, so therefore, didn't understand his compliment. "Marquis Cordo. You are the gentleman who has brought all of these wonderful paintings together." She smiled and pulled her hand from his grasp. "You have a good eye, My Lord."

"Ah... you speak English." Claude hadn't been able to take his eyes off the girl as she strolled from one painting to the next. Her smile lit up her whole face. He grinned and pointed at her. "Thiz iz because you are English, yez."

"Yes." Shay nodded and moved to the next painting and silently prayed, please don't take an interest in me. Please.

"Tu ne parles pas du tout français?" he said, and then quickly changed to English. "You do not speak French?" Claude followed her. If she had no French then she wouldn't have known he had paid her a compliment.

"Oui, monsieur. Je parle très bien français." Shay smiled and angled her head a fraction.

Claude chuckled. "You speak French very well. You would have understood my compliment, yes?"

"Thank you. Yes." Shay pointed at the next painting. A dusty scene of white stone buildings where a wagon was being pulled by men dressed in loose fitting pants and nothing more. A man stood in the wagon wielding a whip. "What of this painting. Are such things real, Monsieur?"

"I am afraid so, Mademoiselle. This artist." Claude pointed at the name in the corner. "Has been to Turkey, Algiers and Morocco. He has witnessed such things." A flash of anger crossed his face before he added, "Men chained like dogs, forced to work in stone quarries or made to fight to the death. Despicable things."

Shay put her hand to her mouth and took a closer look at the picture. "We are not taught about such things."

He shook his head, and then his face lit up as he said, "There is talk that the French Government has plans to end the slave trade on the Barbary Coast."

"Oh," Shay gasped. "I do hope the French can do something about this. What a horrible life for a person to live."

"May I." Claude took her by the arm and steered her to the next picture. "Young ladies should not worry themselves over such things. This is one of my favourite paintings." He stood her in front of a kitchen scene where a fire burned brightly, a woman was cooking while a man played a fiddle and two children danced. "I particularly like the dog," Claude said. "What do you think?"

Shay studied the picture. A dog was standing on its hind legs, its front paws on the table with a leg of lamb in its mouth. All of the people in the scene had their backs to it. "What a cheeky dog." Shay looked up at Claude with a beaming smile spread across her face. "He is going to be in trouble if they catch him."

"Do you think he will be caught?" Claude took another breath as he looked into her eyes.

Shay felt her face heat for the second time that day, and she wondered if she was going to get ill. She looked back at the painting and shook her head. "No. He's too clever." She pointed at the bottom corner of the picture where a cat was hidden. "I think the cat will be blamed."

"Oui, I think you might be right." Claude looked back at Shay. "May I know your name, Mademoiselle?"

"Shay. My name is Shay Lytton."

"Lady Lytton?"

"Non. Just Shay Lytton. Shay looked directly into the marquis' eyes, and then said, "I am the adopted daughter of Master Thomas Lytton, an English country squire." She directed her hand to the group of girls from her school. "If you would like to meet a lady, there are four over there."

Claude glanced at the group, and then back at her. "They don't appear to be half as interesting as you, Mademoiselle Lytton."

"If you would forgive my forwardness, as I have forgiven yours. Could I ask you a direct question?"

"Of course." Claude rubbed his hand over his mouth to try and hide his smile.

"Why are you taking an interest in me?"

"Ah..."

Shay watched his mouth drop opened. He seemed a very nice man. She knew she had blushed when he looked at her. She had also blushed when Amaud had looked at her. It didn't mean she wanted men paying her unwelcome attention. Shay thought it would be such a waste of time if this was the marquis' intention. She wanted to set him straight.

Claude cocked his head. How to answer? "Perhaps I could write to your father and seek his permission to pay you some attention."

"Non." Shay shook her head. "You are a very nice gentleman. However, I must inform you that I have no intention of marrying. If this is the direction you are wishing to take at some point in your life, then you would be wasting your precious time on me, My Lord."

"Mademoiselle! Shay!" Madame Le Fleure could not believe what she had just heard. She rushed to where Shay was standing with the marquis. "I am so sorry, Marquis Cordo, for my charge's insolence." She turned to face Shay. "This is not the way a young lady presents herself." She turned back to the marquis. "Please forgive her, My Lord. She is young, and has so much to learn."

Claude smiled and took Shay's hand. He bowed and kissed the back of it. "There is nothing to forgive, Madame . Mademoiselle Lytton has done me a huge favour by letting me know where she stands. If you will excuse me." He bowed and moved to another group of ladies.

"Ma chérie, Shay, qu'est-ce que je vais faire de toi. Shay, what will I do with you? Master Lytton will have to know of this. It iz not ze way of a lady."

"I am sorry, Madame. I do not wish to marry, so feel it is a waste of time if this is a man's interest in me." Shay sighed. "The marquis does not seem too unhappy." She looked over to see he was laughing with the three ladies surrounding him. "Papa does know I do not wish to marry, Madame. If you feel you need to write to him, then you must."

"Child." Pascale Le Fleure took hold of Shay's hands. "What is it you wish to do with your life?"

"I have decided." Shay took a breath. "To work with the poor. It is my intention to go to London and work in an orphanage. I wish to help children like the girl Belle. When I met her today, she made me think of my twelve-year-old self, Madame."

"Ah, c'est pour ça que tu l'as remerciée, n'est-ce pas ?" Ah, this is why you thanked her?

"Oui, Madame. She reminded me of who I really am."

So Shay has worked out what she really wants to do with her life. Such a wonderful cause, don't you think.

Painting by Charles Theodore Frere - Crossing the Desert.

2nd painting taken from The Fine Art Blogger.