“I am just curious,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Well, while I appreciate your curiosity for my work, I believe it is time for you to get back to yours. We only have a few hours of night left and that painting is to be finished before you leave.”
Ophelia rolled her eyes as Tristan made his way back to the no-nonsense, practical version of himself. Still, she knew he was right. He’d paid her in advance, and she owed him a finish painting.
Tristan stayed behind his desk, watching her from his chair for the rest of the evening. There were no more interruptions from other but there was no more conversation between the two of them either. A tension of sorts had filled the room and Ophelia could not find a way around it.
It wasn’t until she finished with her painting that she spoke, and even then, Tristan came toward her without a word and stood a respectful distance from her as he took the painting in.
“It is perfect,” he said at last.
Ophelia sighed inwardly. Not long ago she did not give a single care if Tristan approved of her painting or not. Now, she was starting like his praise.
“Stay here,” he commanded before she could answer him. “I will go get your escorts.”
“You wish me to leave already?” She asked, surprised at the twinge of disappointment she felt. “I could at least sketch out the third painting.”
“No, you have been here long enough,” Tristan stated. Though she knew he meant no offense, Ophelia felt another twinge of disappointment as he said so. She was not ready to return to her new reality.
When he returned with two guards he only waved a hand toward her in farewell, and she in return simply curtseyed. As she was taken through the main room, she looked around, and it was as if the earlier disturbance had never happened. Men and women were entwined together on lounges once more. Some were moving provocatively on the dance floor to some exotic and slow rhythm. Soft sighs and moans of pleasure echoed around her. All was back to normal- or, as normal as an erotic club could be, she supposed.
In the cool night air of the quiet street, Ophelia drew in a deep breath and stopped. The guards immediately stopped with her, and waited. It annoyed her right away. Her mind had been a flurry of thoughts all night, and she just needed a moment to herself in the cool air before she went any further.
“The carriage is right there,” she said, pointing to it just a few steps away. “You do not have to wait for me.”
“Our orders are to escort you directly into the carriage, my lady,” one of the guards replied.
She tsked her tongue in annoyance, her head beginning to throb. She let them lead her the rest of the way and as soon as the door was shut, they turned and left her. With their backs to her and the street empty, Ophelia pulled off her mask, pressed her hot forehead to the cool pane of the window, and looked back at the perfectly normal where Tristan’s den of debauchery was nestled.
Some things, she realized, were not at all as they seemed. The same, she supposed, went for people too.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Icannot believe I am actually going to do this,” Ophelia muttered, staring up at the modiste’s store front.
All of her friends gathered around her, hugging her and giving her support.
“Deep breaths,” Theo encouraged. “Amelia and I have acquired you invitations to several parties.”
“And Rose and I have started someverylovely whispers that you have changed much about yourself and are now looking for a husband,” Seraphina added.
“All lies, I am sure,” Ophelia grunted.
Seraphina gave her a sheepish smile.
“Let us not call them lies,” she said cheerfully. “Let us say…creative tellings of your new desire to be married.”
Ophelia gave her well-meaning friend a wary look.
“So lies,” she reiterated.
Her friends laughed around her, the sound of it managing to put a smile on her own face. Husband hunting was the last thing on earth she had ever wanted to do. She would rather walk through Tristan’s club bare faced and buck naked if it meant she could get out of binding herself to a man. Sadly, that was not an option. Which was why they had all gathered at the modiste.
The first party Theo and Alistair were escorting her to was only a week away, and she needed a new dress if she was going to impress whatever suitors were left after the summer season.
“We will find you someone perfectly suitable,” Rose promised. “Someone who can appreciate you for exactly who you are.”
“Someone who can nurture your talent,” Amelia added.
