1 Chapter 1: Prologue

London, 1895

"It is completed." Removing the cloth covering, Frederic stepped back to show his work.

His companion studied the painting for a long time before he spoke. "Beautiful. Simmering and seductive through the use of such vibrant orange. Sure to garner attention, don't you think, Frederic?"

"Perhaps. I hope it will." Sighing, he felt weary and tired, unwilling to waste the energy of thought on how his newest painting might be received.

"What will you call it?"

"I am calling it ‘Flaming June.'"

"Who is she, asleep in the chair, in that flowing gown? Was she June?"

Frederic shook his head. "There was a different painting, before this one, another version - the original. I saw it one time and could never forget, so seared was the image into my memory."

He touched a finger to the canvas, remembering details of what she looked like, even though it had been a very long time since his own eyes had been granted the view in all her magnificent glory.

"When was this?"

"Oh, many years ago when I was first starting out. I met the great man himself at a house party in Warwickshire. He had to have done that painting more than eighty years ago by now."

"Who?"

"Mallerton. He painted her first. Conceived in the warmth of summer, he said. He told me he painted her during the month of June. Sometime in June."

Frederic felt wistful now, lost in the remembrance of that other painting. "She wore a yellow dress, jonquil yellow, and had a splendid shawl draped over her."

"Who was she?"

"Mallerton said she was...Imogene."