He had agreed to meet with her aunts and show them some of his work that afternoon. Although he’d only planned to paint for pleasure while in Bath, it seemed incredible that he found himself with a potential commission. While he thought the Golden Duchesses—as Serafina referred to them—were charming and humorous to say the least, he was looking forward to seeing Serafina again. He had to admit to himself that his primary motivation for accepting the commission was to become better acquainted with the lovely young woman, while maintaining his persona as a working artist.
He grinned and tugged the cord for Dunmore. He was curious to know if Dunmore had gleaned anything new about Serafina Davies and her aunts.
The door to his room opened, and a short, blond man entered. “Good morning, my lord.”
“Good morning, Dunmore. Thank you for leaving my window open and allowing fresh air inside last night. It aided my sleep.”
“You’re welcome, my lord.”
“I should get dressed, I have an appointment this afternoon with the duchesses to discuss the possibility of my painting their portrait,” Julian said.
“From what I understand, my lord, the Golden Duchesses are quite the force to be reckoned with,” Dunmore said, opening the door of Julian’s armoire.
Julian had already explained to Dunmore upon his return yesterday afternoon of the impromptu rescue and escorting Serafina home. “And from what I gleaned from my introduction yesterday to the duchesses, they are well-connected throughout England. In fact, one—I’m almost certain—recognized something about me. Even though I gave them next to no information. Her Grace, the Dowager Duchess of Featherly, made known that she thought I looked familiar,” Julian mulled.
“If I may say, my lord, the duchesses also have a reputation for being very generous and kind,” Dunmore added, laying out a suit of clothes. “I am quite certain, as long as they feel you aren’t disadvantaging their adoptive niece, they will champion almost anything you ask.”
“Thank you, Dunmore, you are a true font of knowledge. Oh, and perhaps we can dispense withmy lordwhile we are in Bath. Sir or Mr. Kerr will be fine.”
“I understand…sir,” Dunmore said with a smile.
Julian knew the duchesses were sharp from the moment he’d met them, despite their rather droll way of bickering. Unfortunately, he wished he hadn’t accidentally let slip that he was from Aberdeen. His mother’s family lived in Aberdeen—the Kerrs. His response to Her Grace, the Dowager Featherly’s question, had been without thought. Well, nothing to be done about it now. He certainly had nothing to hide; it was only that he had intended to travel incognito and did not wish to be out and about among theton. The last thing he wanted was to have it get out that he was the Duke of Strathmoor and a bachelor. He would drown in all the invitations that would be sent to him by matchmaking mamas. If he wanted to find a wife, he would havegone to London for the Season. But that was the furthest thing from his mind.
What he wanted was to simply rest for a few weeks before returning to Scotland and resuming his duties. He hadn’t expected to meet anyone, let alone the lovely Serafina. But what harm would it cause to enjoy her company for the short time he was in Bath? A small voice at the back of his mind told him to be careful. He promptly pushed that warning away. Miss Serafina Davies was the most appealing young lady he’d ever met. There was nothing wrong with enjoying the company of a beautiful young woman, properly chaperoned by her four adopted aunts.
“The small paintings and sketches you asked for are next to your bag, as you requested, my lord…Er, I mean, sir,” Dunmore said.
The first partof his day had gone by relatively quickly, even without his sparring at the club. Instead, he spent the morning sorting through his sketches—and removing anything he’d painted of Strathmoor that could spark the Dowager Duchess of Featherly’s memory in identifying him.
A few hours later, he arrived at the duchesses’ mansion with his satchel and his paintings. Her Graces were waiting for him in the drawing room.
“Mr. Kerr, thank you for coming,” the Dowager Duchess of Richmond said. “Serafina stayed home today to research in the library, so if you don’t mind, she will be joining us for tea after our meeting.”
“I do not mind at all,” Julian said, hiding his relief. He’d been worried that perhaps either Serafina or the pup had been unwell when he’d stopped by the tea shop on his way to the duchess’s townhouse, only to find it locked. He was pleased to learn that the young woman was at home.
“Did you bring the sketches?” the Dowager Duchess of Glanville asked, rubbing her hands together. “I’ve been told that I have artistic talent, myself. But it’s only drawing flowers and the occasional tree.”
“We aren’t talking about drawing the posies outside your window, my dear,” the Duchess of Featherly said. “The man is a professional artist, for goodness’ sake.”
“Sophy, that’s not nice,” the Dowager Duchess of Glanville said, obviously miffed. “If you want to sit in the center of our portrait, it’s fine with me. You don’t have to insult my watercolors.”
“It’s not a question of want,” the Dowager Duchess of Featherly countered. “I’m the shortest, therefore, I should sit in the middle. And I apologize for insulting your artistic ability. The next time you decide to paint anything, I’ll sit by you and keep you company.”
“Thank you, Sophy,” the Dowager Duchess of Glanville said.
“Rosalind, if I fall asleep while you paint, don’t hold it against me.”
The Dowager Duchess of Glanville rolled her eyes at her friend.
Julian suppressed a smile at their antics. Despite the humorous bickering, the duchesses genuinely seemed to like each other. Their meeting turned out to be quite productive.
As he packed his sketches and the small paintings he’d brought with him back into his portfolio, he heard a sweet, velvety voice call out in greeting.
Looking up, he saw Serafina walk into the drawing room, carrying Willow in her arms. And once again, his breath caught at the sight of her. She wore a dark violet gown that made her eyes seem even warmer, rich as polished chestnut.
“Oh, do join us, dear, you’re just in time for tea,” the Dowager Duchess of Richmond said.
“Miss Davies, good afternoon,” he said, standing. “How is Willow getting along?”
