“Yes,” she nodded. “Yes, he did.”
Gabriel had painted the family portrait on the heels of her broken betrothal, right before his departure for Rome.
Collies are the most loyal of dogs,he had told her, grin stretching wide.And you, with your lovely loyal heart, chose our family over Theo.
“Cousin Gabriel felt that I am loyal in my affections, like a collie,” she continued. “However, my sister thinks that Gabriel should have painted me as a more exotic canine.”
“Aye.” His eyes flicked sideways to her—up, down, raking from head to toe. “Bit of an understatement that.”
A collie?
Alex nearly laughed again at the absurdity of the painting. What would Ewan with his artistic eye think of it?
He darted another look at Lady Charlotte and then forced his eyes away.
She had descended the stairs in a flutter of jasmine and rustling silk. A glittering jewel, sending his wits scattering like spillikins.
Like everything else in this rarefied world, Lady Charlotte was alarmingly alluring. Blue, blue eyes wide-set in a fine-boned face framed by golden hair and a pert chin. The woman was nearly a parody of genteel feminine beauty, so perfect were her manners and comportment.
Had she been this handsome before? He couldn’t recall. To be sure, the Lady Charlotte of his memory was a bonnie lass.
But this woman—
Thiswoman was staggeringly beautiful.
The sort of elegance that spoke to centuries of Anglo-Saxon nobility and gentility.
The sort of lovely that turned heads and led people to whispering once she had passed.
The sort of beauty that could easily dissuade him from his chosen course.
It annoyed Alex to no end.
The turmoil in his chest set him to clenching and unclenching his fists, as if a bout of fisticuffs could ward off her charms.
He resisted the urge to look at her fine-boned hands again, specifically the bare ring finger on her left hand.
She was unmarried. No highborn lady would be seen out-and-about without her wedding ring.
How was it possible she was unwed? In his memory of that afternoon together years ago, she was betrothed. What had happened?
She seemed the sort to be settled with an indulgent husband who lavished her with gifts. Instead, she appeared unattached and entirely too captivating.
He swallowed and forced himself to study the painting, which in all truthfulness, was perhaps a mistake.
It truly was bizarre.
Though, silver lining, noteverythingin this house spoke of perfection.
He could think of no onelesslike a sheep-herding dog than Lady Charlotte.
An elegantbichon frisé? Absolutely.
A primped pomeranian? Of course.
But a collie?
They both contemplated the painting for a beat. The dog with Lady Charlotte’s face and a collie’s body, tail in the midst of wagging excitedly.
