When she did, she found him speaking with her parents about William. Instantly, she went on her guard, but when she heard him asking how to contract Mr. Smith again to make portraits of him and Rachel, she relaxed. Her parents explained that William was a wanderer but could be found easily enough.
“Oh, Rachel, there you are,” Strathmore smiled. “Lovely. I think we have more dancing to do.”
Tomorrow, I will try to talk with Mother tomorrow.
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Chapter 22
It was done.
Rachel’s portrait was finally done, and William felt the burn to complete it gone from his chest. But he had another challenge; what to do with Rachel’s second portrait? One he had bargained with her parents in exchange for a dance with her last night.
Now, in the early morning, as he seated himself in the garden, he wondered what more could he do to make the second portrait even grander than the one he had just completed?
“William?” Rachel’s tender voice had him turning on the bench.
She was wrapped up in her plain housecoat, and he spied a scarf tucked into the neck of the coat. “Good morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?”
Before Rachel made to step to him, she looked anxiously over her shoulder. That mere motion had him gritting his teeth. She should not be living under constant fear of her parents, and what he hated more was that he had little power to stop it.
She came to sit by him. “Last night went well, but I must ask, did Lord Strathmore come by you at all?”
“No,” his brows lowered. “Why would he have?”
“He told my parents that he wanted to contact you for future portraits of him and me,” her tone soured. “I can hardly stand the man, but my parents will not listen to me. I am still engaged to him and soon to marry.”
“I cannot imagine how much that pains you,” William sighed.
“Almost unbearably,” she muttered.
Turning to her, William studied her face and hated the tight lines that were beginning to set themselves deeper into the corners of her mouth. If only he had the power to removed them.
His hand reached up and turned her face to him and smoothed a thumb over her cheekbone. The hesitant yet sweet caress brought a warm flush to her skin, and the surprise in her gaze had him leaning in. He knew that he was playing a risky game by kissing her out there in the open, but he threw caution to the wind. Rachel needed comfort, and he was going to give it to her.
His mouth found hers, and need shivered through her at the touch. Her lips parted to the seeking thrust of his tongue, and her jasmine scent filled his nose. Rachel moaned as she pressed herself deeper into his kiss. Her neck arching to find the best angle while she fitted herself against him.
Sliding a hand under her neck, William kissed her deeply, only holding himself away from hauling her onto his lap. The kiss was heated, and as her lips yielded, he thrust his tongue home, over and over, andoveragain. She moaned as she did in his darkest fantasies when his tongue slid against hers.
“Rachel!” Her mother’s screech had them jumping apart.
Even with the horrific situation, William realized that it was the first time he had ever heard the Duchess speak her daughter’s name.
“What are you doing!” The Duchess was turning purple in her face. She grabbed Rachel by the arm. “Get inside now!”
Bloodless, Rachel tried, “But Mother—”
“Do not interrupt me,” the Duchess snapped. “Get inside. And you, Mr. Smith, consider your position terminated. If you dare darken my doorstep again, I will have the authorities deal with you!”
He stood, finding it odd that he did not care about the job anymore. “That’s fine, Your Grace,” he said. “Working with you has reminded me of why I despise the autocracy. You walk around with your nose high in the sky, say you are pious people, but still, you treat others like mud under your shoes. Especially your daughter who has told you that she does not want to marry Strathmore time after time. But no, you force her to do so because of your ambitions.”
The Duchess went pale and splotchy, “How dare you—”
“No,” William said forcefully. “How dare you use your own child as chattel? Is that how much you love her? To sell her off to the highest bidder when she wants to find a husband on her own time? One that she wants to love?”
Straightening her back, the Duchess hissed, “Get out of my house and be thankful that I do not have you arrested. You have five minutes to leave! And as for my sake, you will never see Rachel again or be able to twist her mind with your confounded notions of love.”
Her scorn had William scoffing. Spinning on his heel, he passed Rachel, and after bushing his fingers across hers, he entered the house and took the stairs. Thank goodness he packed light, so it did not take him long to throw his things in the sack, secure his art supplies, and take the stairs.
