She shook her head as her smile widened. “Rakish.”
Heat filled his face at his father’s obvious interest in subjects far more sexual than his own, and he quickly turned to look for Harewood and Lady Beaumont. The pair had taken a seat near the fireplace, seemingly engrossed in conversation. Seeing no way to distract Lady Amelia from her thoughts, he turned back to find she’d already returned her attention to the next painting.
They continued down the line of artwork. For every four or five forgeries, there was an authentic piece. His chest tightened at every pronouncement good or bad. It was quickly becoming obvious that his art collection would be of little help to his current situation. When they reached the final painting, a pastoral scene with a couple, Lady Amelia studied it carefully, once again bending over to examine it.
“This is by Catel. I saw him in Paris.”
Relieved that she acknowledged it as authentic, he let out his breath. “Yes, I acquired this while there.”
Her brow furrowed as she stared at it. “I was unaware that Catel had painted any shepherd scenes at all. This could be quite rare. What is it called?”
It was his favorite piece and it hung in his bedroom. “According to the seller, it’s called True Love, but on the back its title isItalienischer Hirt und Mädchen.”
“That’s German, correct?”
“Yes. It means Italian Shepherd with Girl.”
She nodded absently. “The simplicity of life for the shepherd and girl in such an idyllic setting makes for a peaceful scene.”
“Yes.” His word came out in a whisper, surprised that she saw what he had seen.
She finally looked at him. “This is expertly done. Catel had to have felt this single moment in time to make it so obvious. It is very close to capturing a mystic moment.”
He agreed, but the feeling of connection between them was so strong that he failed to utter a word. Staring into her eyes, it was as if he touched something beyond human comprehension.
Blinking, she stepped back as if she’d felt it too and feared it.
He understood and turned to view the artwork. “I also found it unique for the softness of the lines. I’m pleased it’s authentic.”
Having returned them to polite discourse, he offered his arm. “Thank you for reviewing these pieces. Now that I know so few our authentic, I think I’ll forgo selling them.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “And the forgeries?”
He grimaced. “Until I have a chance to replace them with better work, I will return them to their locations. My mother is used to them being about the manor, I would not want to take more from her than she’s already lost, since most of those were my father’s.”
They strolled toward Harewood, who rose as they approached. “Did you see anything of great value, Lady Amelia?”
She smiled politely. “I did, one of which was done by Lord Sommerset’s aunt.”
Harewood’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know artistic talent ran through his veins.”
“It doesn’t.” He glanced at Lady Amelia. “But I may have to acquire another piece of artwork before long.”
Lady Beaumont, having risen, joined them. “I would highly recommend my sister’s. She is quite talented.”
Lady Amelia’s arm tensed on his. “Lord Sommerset has an excellent eye for artwork. I do not believe that mine would quite reach that high, but I appreciate the sisterly support.”
Harewood and he exchanged a look, surprised by her humility. Many a young woman had sung her own praises to them about her skill at the pianoforte, riding, singing, sewing, or even painting. Harewood recovered first. “I imagine our hostess will be looking for us soon. Shall we repair to the drawing room?”
They immediately agreed and moved into that room in no particular haste. Lady Amelia walked with him in silence. He didn’t feel a need to fill the quiet, quite content to contemplate what he must do now. He had two options left. The first was to determine if the artwork at Lyonsmere Hall was authentic or false. That would require finding another expert he could trust who was willing to travel to his estate there and review over a hundred pieces.
His second option was to accept Lady Amelia’s proposal. Of the two, the second was the most intriguing and easiest, but it did have life-long ramifications, which he’d fully intended to pursue just last week. At that time, he’d thought Lady Amelia was typical of the rest of the single women of theton,though perhaps a bit less interested in marriage.
Now, he was far more interested in her as a wife. The question was why? Was it because he had seen a depth of character he hadn’t expected? Or was it her unusual view of herself? Or could it be that in her he saw something he’d thought impossible, something only created as an ideal on canvas, a woman of equal sensibility?
His only hesitation was the very issue that caused his interest to rise…her counterproposal. It was scandalous to the extreme that she would want to paint him nude. Not quite the woman he imagined for the mother of his children. Though to have such a one as a wife did have its benefits. Then again, if she looked upon his naked body as she did upon a bowl of fruit, it could become awkward. After their conversation at the ball and here in his own home, he found himself far less shocked and more understanding of her artist’s view. Afterall, had she not studied the masters who had painted many a nude form?
No, it wasn’t that she wished to paint him nude that gave him pause. In fact, he was flattered by her interest far more than any other woman who had fawned over him. At least Lady Amelia made it quite clear her interest was for art and not for him as a husband. No, it was her insistence that they pretend not to have any relationship until after the painting was complete. He understood why, but a part of him, one he didn’t know he possessed, balked at the idea. That and the fact she allowed that he may not want to wed when all was finished. In all honesty, he’d like to wed before, so as to rest easier about the fate of his family and tenants.
