She resisted the urge to withdraw at the scrutiny.
He nudged his finger against her chin, inching it upward slightly and to the right. No man had ever touched her face before.
“There. See?” A smile crept over his distinct features. “How the light falls across your face? I have noticed your eyes, the shape of your nose, since my arrival, and thought to myself, that is a woman I must paint.”
She very much doubted he would think her a viable muse when she was dressed in her work apron with a dustcloth covering her hair, but it was lovely to be thought of just the same.
***
“That Romano is wasting no time, is he?” Tate exclaimed as he and Lucas exited the drawing room doors to the back garden to join the others for the picnic planned for the afternoon. “Now all the ladies will prefer to spend all their time with him. And what will that do for us?”
“I spy an open easel.” Lucas pointed across the lawn. “You should try your hand.”
“That’s not a bad idea. I just might find my life’s calling. Wouldn’t that set my father into fits?”
Lucas laughed. Whereas he’d enjoyed a respectful relationship with his father, Tate and his father rarely saw eye to eye. “I wholeheartedly encourage the pursuit.”
“Ah, look, MissBrannon has joined the flock.”
Lucas did not respond as they traversed the stone veranda to the grass below. He and Tate might be friends, but he wasn’tsure he wanted to share his thoughts on Miss Brannon with his friend.
“I’ve known you a long time, Avery. A very long time. I can’t recall the last time you seemed to enjoy a conversation as you did last night with MissBrannon after the concert.”
There would be no avoiding this topic. “She’s pleasant company, that’s all.”
A welcome reprieve in the form of an approaching footman arrived. The liveried man crossed the yard and extended a tray toward him. “A letter for you, Mr.Avery.”
Lucas took it, and as he continued down the path, he slid his finger beneath the seal, popped it open, and unfolded the paper.
Mr.Avery,
I saw Russell Crane at the Thames docks. He mentioned that MissOlivia Brannon was attending an event at Cloverton Hall and was assessing a collection belonging to Mrs.Agnes Milton. He did not seem to be aware that you were in attendance, and I did not tell him, but he seemed very enthusiastic about MissBrannon’s prospects. If she is indeed there, then you already know, but I wanted to tell you what I have learned. I will write again if I hear more.
Clarence Night
Lucas read the letter again. Then again. He looked over to MissBrannon, who was still seated at an easel in the far corner of the garden.
She’d deceived him.
She’d claimed she was not there to purchase anything from the Cloverton collection, but she’d never said anything about purchasing items from Mrs. Milton.
She was a clever one.
“What’s that you’re reading? A love letter?”
Lucas tucked it away. “The second one today.”
“I knew it! We’ll see you married off yet.”
“Not me,” Lucas objected. “Not for a long time. I haven’t the time or the inclination for that.”
It was true—he did have too much on his mind to think of romantic pursuits. He was a man of business, after all. His entire livelihood and future hung upon his success with the Cloverton collection.
But it wasn’t entirely true.
There had always been a part of him that expected to be married and have a love like his parents had. His father had been far from perfect, but he’d loved his mother. And she’d loved him. When his brother died, then his father, every ounce of Lucas’s energy had been devoted to his mother and the business.
But something about MissBrannon had those thoughts churning again in his mind.
