She had to fight even harder when her mother unexpectedly came in to watch the session for a while before she announced that Lord Strathmore would be calling on her later that day.
Instantly, her eyes flew to William, who had not gone as tense as she anticipated. Thankfully, Lady Mary had not caught on to the motion and continued. “Miss Colton, please assure that my daughter wears a good dress. We want her to make an even better impression than yesterday.”
Rachel grew cross. The nonchalant way her mother spoke made her seem as if she were only a commodity to be traded.
Or a prized sheep up for the slaughter.
She then went to William’s side and looked over the paper with a shrewd eye. Her lips flattened while looking back at Rachel reclining on her chaise.
“Are you sure this is the right appealing background for her, Mr. Smith?”
“Not entirely,” William said. “But it is an attempt. We do have another location, and then we will have three images to choose from.”
Lady Mary’s lips pursed. “Fine. Continue with this one and then the next. We will choose the best then. How long do you think you will take to finish this one?”
“Only a few more days,” William said. “Then we can move to the garden.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” he said.
With a curt nod, her mother left the room, but the tension Rachel had expected to dissipate only grew tighter. She was not sure how she felt knowing that the Lord was coming around while she was feeling that way about William.
But maybe it was a good thing that the Lord was going to be there. She could prod a little more into why he genuinely wanted to be with her while, in her limited experience, many others did not.
William did not look discomfited by her mother’s actions, and she kept wondering why he did not feel as irritated and displaced as she was. Rachel kept quiet for the rest of the setting, trying to create a few pointed questions that might point her in the way of finding out what Lord Strathmore was after.
When William dropped his pencils and reached for his towel, he said, “I think that might do it this morning.”
As she moved the blanket from her legs and stood, Rachel asked Jane to leave them for a moment and, when her maid left the room, went to William. His eyelids were lowered down to his set of folios while she reached over to touch his face.
Looking up, she had more room to cup his cheek and felt a prickle of his beard coming in. His gaze was guarded when he met her eyes but softened a little.
“Please do not worry too much about it,” she said. “He will not try anything with me.”
“I hope not,” he said, while twisting his face to kiss her palm. “Dare I wish that you enjoy yourself?”
“You may,” Rachel said while tipping on her toes to kiss his cheek. “But I probably will not.”
His lips cracked a grin. “I can only hope. If your parents are out this evening again, meet me in the garden?”
“I will try,” Rachel promised before leaving the room.
***
It probably was too much to hope for to see William again that evening, but Rachel wanted it. All she had to do was to see her hour or so with Lord Strathmore through and hope her parents would be out again. It was not likely, but she could hope.
Instead of another stroll outside, Rachel found herself in the drawing-room, dressed in a dark emerald gown that was not as severely outdated as the others. It had long sleeves, but the neckline was square and not buttoned up to her neck. Her hair was down in ringlets and secured with simple ivory combs.
Lord Strathmore bowed, and Rachel noted a dandy bright blue embroidered waistcoat that matched his eyes. She stood and curtsied with a welcoming smile. “Good afternoon, My Lord. How are you?”
“Better now that I see you,” he took her hand and kissed the back of it. “You are more radiant than I have ever seen you.”
Privately, Rachel believed that he was laying on the flattery a bit thick, but she could not mention it. She wanted him to be at ease with her enough that he would admit, if inadvertently, why he was courting her.
“Thank you, My Lord, and you are looking a bit dashing too,” she complimented. “I wanted to ask you about Vauxhall. What is your favorite part of the gardens, and where do you think I would be best suited to go?”
He sat with a contemplative look. “I think the Chinese Pavillion is my favorite, but for you, My Lady, I would take you to the Rotunda. It is a glorious hall where you can dance to your heart's content. ‘Tis the best place to see others and be seen. And you, of course, would be stunning with the lovely silks I would have you dressed in.”
A soft suspicion planted itself in her mind. Again, he had mentioned silks; why was he so caught up in her appearance that he was fixed on changing her wardrobe?
