“Naturally, but this particular bit of information was provided by Viscount Blakely. He told me about how you were enamored by some chit at the theatre, and then kept rambling on about a red-haired vixen invading his dreams.”
Grey shook his head. “I should have known Seb couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Although he seemed just as taken with Lady Calliope, the red-haired vixen in question who happens to be Lady Araminta’s sister.”
“Ah.” The marquess nodded. “It’s good to know that he hasn’t entirely lost his mind. After that conversation, it certainly gave me cause to wonder if he was truly mad.”
“Sebastian is many things, but I assure you he is quite sane.”
“I daresay I’m intrigued. If you aren’t here to discuss Lord Blakely’s psyche, then I’m rather curious as to why you’ve sought me out?” He frowned. “Unless you’ve heard something about the railroad that has escaped my solicitor?”
“Not at all,” Grey assured him. “As far as I know, everything is moving along quite smoothly on the coast.” He sat forward slightly and clasped his hands on the table between them. “I would, however, like to ask a particular favor of you.”
When the marquess remained silent, Grey pushed forward. “I have been trying to court Lady Araminta, but I’ve found there is an… impediment keeping me from getting too close.”
Rem smiled. “Don’t tell me you’ve lost your charm, Somers?”
Grey allowed the barb to pass. “I had been doing rather well in gaining the lady’s favor—until her elder sister interceded. Apparently, all four sisters have made a pledge not to marry and to make their own way as independent women of means. Lady Isadora seems to be making sure that goal is adhered to.”
“I see,” Rem murmured. “But I fail to see what that has to do with me.”
Grey exhaled heavily. “I want you to distract Lady Isadora so I can continue my plans to court her sister.”
There was a marked silence after his announcement, and then Osgood threw his head back and laughed richly. He pointed a finger at Grey and spoke in between chuckles. “You nearly had me for a moment, Somers! I appreciate a good lark!”
Grey gritted his teeth. “I wasn’t joking.”
As the marquess’ merriment faded away, his amber eyes widened in mock horror. “You can’t beserious. Going together on a profitable business venture is one thing, but I see no benefits in this partnership for me.”
“Sure there is.” Grey grinned broadly. “You will be helping out a close friend.”
A copper brow was lifted. “And?”
Grey shoved a hand through his hair. “And I suppose I might be persuaded to sell one of my stallions.”
Finally, Osgood’s interest was piqued, but then Grey knew the man’s one weakness, and it was horseflesh. He spent most of his time at his estate, only venturing to London when it was absolutely necessary. At the moment he was in town because his mother had pleaded with him to escort his niece about in society during her first season. But Grey knew that once Christmas was over, he wouldn’t see him again until spring, and that was only if his niece didn’t gain a marriage proposal before then.
“I’ll consider it.”
Grey knew that was all he was going to get at the moment, but still he said, “Don’t think on it too long. Christmas is only two weeks away.”
With that, he left the marquess to his paper and headed out to find Araminta the perfect gift.
“What is it?”Calliope nearly jumped up and down in her excitement surrounding the brown paper wrapped parcel that had been delivered the following morning.
“I can’t say.” Araminta glanced at her sister as she held the item in question. “Perhaps there’s a mix-up and your name should be on it. Are you sure you aren’t expecting anything?”
Calliope huffed in exasperation. “It hasyourname on it. Would you just open it?”
Araminta decided that in order to have some peace she would have to do just that. She returned to where she’d been sitting in the parlor working on some embroidery while Isadora was out walking and Olivia was in the library, as usual. Calliope had been working on some correspondence when the butler had brought in the package, which had ensued with the following uproar.
As Araminta peeled back the paper of the mysterious package, she gasped at the image that was revealed.
“Whatisit?” Calliope demanded once more, but when Araminta didn’t immediately reply, her sister walked closer to look over her shoulder.
She picked up the painting with the gilt-edged frame. There was a lone woman in the painting, standing before a field with the orange glow of an early morning dawn before her. “It’s called ‘Woman before the Rising Sun’ by Caspar David Friedrich.” She noted a card was carefully tucked behind the frame. She withdrew it and read, “To celebrate your independence.”
It wasn’t signed, but Araminta didn’t have to guess who it was from. She closed her eyes as the haunting vision of Lord Somers flashed behind her lids. She wasn’t sure if this painting was meant as a jest since she’d refused any further attentions from him this morning, or even worse, if he had taken her rejection to heart and this was his way of leaving her alone. She sighed, for she wasn’t that comfortable with either scenario.
She carefully covered it back up with the paper.
