“No, of course not. You’re an earl.” The position still wasn’t right. She wanted arrogance, strength, and just a bit of danger. She placed her hand under his chin to nudge his head up an inch, but froze, or rather combusted if the heat she felt in her fingers was any indication. Quickly, she dropped her hand. “Just lift your head a little. Yes.”
Anxious to put space between them, she walked back to her easel and moved it so she could face him. Quickly, she took her paintbrush from the water and dipped it in the brown madder paint.
“You’re not using pastels today?”
She started with his torso since it called her more than anything at the moment. “No, I’m not.” Adding more paint to her brush she continued with her strokes.
“Do you prefer pastels for sketching and watercolor for your final product? I thought most painters use oils, or are those mainly for men?”
At his question, she stopped. “There is no determination of medium based on the gender of the painter. Watercolor simply allows for far more variations of color. Though to be clear, my plan is for the final painting to be in oils.” She dipped her brush in color once again and continued.
His brows rose and he looked at her just as she started on his profile. “How many paintings do you plan? I can hardly be worthy of so much effort.”
She let out a breath of frustration. “I do not know yet. What I do know is you must not move or speak or how can I paint you? You’ll come out with two heads and half a body.”
He gave her a sheepish look. “I apologize. I am not an expert at posing for a painting. I much prefer to be on the other side.”
Since he hadn’t turned his head back, she gave in to her curiosity. “By the other side, you mean as the painter?”
He chuckled. “Hardly. I believe I established the fact that I cannot paint. No, I prefer to be the viewer.”
“Ah, I see.” She lifted her brush, but he continued to look at her. “Please face forward.”
“Oh, yes.” He finally turned his head. Quickly, she painted his profile, his hair coming down longer than it actually was. Why did she keep doing that?
“Have you thought about what—” A knock at the door interrupted him and he whipped his head around as he brought his foot down.
Her heart skipped a beat as she dropped her brush and took a step toward the door, but it opened and Mariel walked in.
“I was about to go out riding and I thought I’d bring you—oh.” Mariel halted as she stared at Sommerset then quickly averted her gaze. “I didn’t know you had begun your sittings.”
Relieved it was Mariel and no other, she strode forward and took the box from her. “Yes, we just started, but it wasn’t planned.” She opened the box, pretending that having her sister find a half-naked man in her studio was the most normal of things. “Oh, you brought me something to eat. You are such a dear.”
“Yes, well, I needed some fresh air and you’ve been out here since this morning. When the cook said she planned to make rout cakes, I offered to bring you some before I took Zephyrus for a gallop.” She looked at Lord Sommerset, who had donned his shirt again. “But I only brought enough for one person.”
He strode forward. “That was very thoughtful. I’m not hungry. She just has me standing about here while she does the difficult work.” He smiled kindly.
But Amelia could tell her sister was rattled. She clasped her hand. “Thank you. I’m so relieved it was you.”
Mariel glanced at Sommerset again and back at her. “If you truly want to keep your pact, I suggest a plan for the next person who knocks at the door. If it had been Mother or Father, banns would be posted this Sunday whether you had accomplished your painting or not.”
The serious tone of her sister’s voice brought back her initial concern upon hearing the knock. “You are right. I will keep the door locked from now on.”
“That would be wise.” Mariel pointed to the easel. “Have you begun painting already?”
Looking over her shoulder, she quickly judged if it was appropriate for her sister to see. Then again, her sister had been married, so of course she’d seen a bare-chested man. “I have, but just in watercolor. You’re welcome to view it.”
Mariel moved before the painting, and she anxiously awaited her thoughts. Mariel was always kind, but also always truthful.
She moved closer to her sister, whose cheeks had become flushed.
“It is an excellent likeness so far.” Mariel quickly stepped away. “I’ll leave you to your creation. I just came for the excuse to enjoy the sun. Though it’s terribly cold, it is pleasant to finally see so much light.” She briskly walked toward the door.
Confused, Amelia opened her mouth to question her, but Mariel stepped through to the outside, her hand on the knob. “Be sure to lock this.” And with that her sister closed the door and was gone.
Now that was odd. Mariel didn’t even look at Sommerset nor wish him a good day. Her sister always had perfect manners.
“You appear concerned.” Sommerset’s comment invited her to share her thoughts.
