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the man that encouraged Daniel to shed his shyness.
    â€˜Sir, I have only this day arrived in Chester and am not yet placed in work. I am unable to afford even the frame of the smallest painting in your gallery.’
    The man nodded as if that fact was irrelevant. ‘I am Maynard Plews. I’m interested in the opinions of all – patrons, clients or art students such as yourself. If money was no object and you had a mind to buy, which would you choose?’
    Daniel felt flattered to be identified as an art student.
    â€˜There are three. If I had the money I’d forego food to possess all three.’
    Invited to explain why they attracted him, Daniel extended his arms as if to embrace two portraits, a diptych of a man and a young girl set against a sun-drenched olive green landscape that was foreign to the realm of England.
    Emboldened by Plews’s sympathetic gaze, Daniel gave his thoughts free rein, his words tumbling forth as he pointed out the landscapes were connected to indicate the couple belonged to one family. He recognised from the vicar’s art books that the couple’s elaborate clothing was medieval. The hand that rested on the nobleman’s dagger at his belt was adorned with ornate rings – like a woman’s. Daniel felt the painted black eyes were watching him with contempt.
    â€˜See how his lower lip curls – he believes his word is above the law. He is the very picture of a … a …’ Daniel stumbled trying to find the word he wanted.
    Maynard Plews prompted him. ‘Arrogance?’
    â€˜Aye, but there’s more. The artist is telling us about something the nobleman’s trying to hide. He’s surrounded with flashy objects, a goblet and family crest yet somehow he looks uncomfortable as if he doesn’t quite belong.’
    Daniel faltered again, afraid his words betrayed his ignorance.
    Maynard Plews nodded. ‘And what do you see in the lass?’
    â€˜Fine clothes but she’s not worldly like him. She’s fingering her wedding ring like a nervous young bride. The artist has painted her eyes turned toward the nobleman as if she’s afraid of him.’
    Daniel felt exposed. ‘But what would I know, Sir? These are the first fine paintings I’ve seen outside of a book.’
    â€˜You have a natural gift for judging character beneath the trappings of luxury. The man was the base-born son of an Italian nobleman, later ousted by his father’s legitimate heir. The bride was sold to him in marriage as a child to unite the two families. Her bridegroom squandered her dowry on his favourite courtier, a pretty boy .’
    Daniel reacted on impulse. ‘That’s an abomination in the eyes of God!’
    â€˜I dare say but princes write their own codes of behaviour.’
    Daniel hastily explained his attraction to his third choice, a landscape identified on the card beneath it as the Colony of New South Wales, early 1800s.
    â€˜Those alien trees and that remarkable blue sky are unlike any under an English heaven. It breaks every law about beauty – yet it is!’
    Maynard Plews studied Daniel. ‘What would you most like to paint, lad?’
    Daniel could feel that his whole future hung in the balance. He did not know what to say but when his answer tumbled out he recognised it was the truth.
    â€˜I want to paint a man’s soul!’
    Maynard Plews nodded as if the answer pleased him. Daniel pressed his luck further.
    â€˜Forgive me, Sir, if I am wasting your time.’
    â€˜Business is none too brisk. Half Chester is outdoors celebrating May Day but I have an order to fulfil, repairing the badly damaged frames of neglected old paintings.’
    Daniel seized his cue. ‘Do you need help, Sir? I can turn my hand to anything. I read and write a decent hand. I never tire. I’m strong. Reliable. Honest.’ He quickly produced the vicar’s Character.
    Maynard Plews read it then