Ignoring the heat that filled her chest and face, she closed the door and locked it. Despite having planned to pretend nothing had occurred at the masquerade ball, her anger surfaced so quickly, she had no time to hold it back. “I heard you enjoyed the ball last weekend.”
He stood by the fire warming his hands, but at her words, he looked over his shoulder. “So I did. Did you?”
She set her hands to her hips, unable to refrain from voicing her irritation. “I understand you kissed someone.”
At that he turned around. “How do you know that?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “A lady in a Milliner’s costume. You can’t deny it.”
He looked askance at her. “You did say we were not to appear to know each other well. What better way to throw off the scent of the gossips?”
“I can think of at least a dozen.” She strode toward him, but two tables stood between them. “Is that the kind of loyalty I could expect in our marriage?”
His face lost all expression as he strode forward as well, stepping around the first table. “I was not aware that it would matter to you.”
She wasn’t aware of that either because she’d never thought seriously of marriage, except as something to avoid as long as possible. Obviously, it did matter. She lifted her chin. “And if I say it does?”
His gaze turned thoughtful as he studied her. “Then I would be loyal to you.”
His capitulation stymied her. She had basically asked him not to have a mistress, which was most common, though not with her family. “Why would you be loyal to me?”
“Because you requested I be.” His lips formed a soft smile. “Many a man respects a woman’s virtue and would not presume otherwise, even if she be no more than a modest milliner.”
As he repeated her own words from the masquerade her heart skipped a beat. “You knew it was me!”
“I did.” He grinned. “But how did you see through my disguise? I thought you thought you were kissing another man. To say I was angry would be putting it politely.”
An odd relief flowed through her that he’d known it was her from the start, but he deserved to stew. “Oh, I didn’t at first.” She sashayed around the table in front of her, bringing them face to face. “By the way you waddled, I thought you Lord Natchet, but then you didn’t have nearly enough wrinkles.”
“I know naught of Lord Natchet, but not having wrinkles could still make me anyone else.”
She rubbed the bottom of her chin as she looked past him at nothing in particular. “This is quite true. However, when I noticed Lord Harewood approaching and you turned in his direction, your cowl revealed your true hair color.” She smiled slyly. “An artist never forgets a color.”
He laughed, capturing her free hand in his. “I’m truly humbled by your powers of observation. I admit, when I discovered you had lied about your costume, I feared it would take all night to find you. But then…” He lifted her hand to his nose and inhaled, his eyes closing in what could only be considered pure happiness.
Her heart raced, and the heat she’d felt upon touching him the first time filled her.
He opened his eyes and gave her a devilish grin. “Then I smelled you, followed your scent like my best hunting dog.”
She pulled her hand from his. “You found me like a dog? How terribly common.” She thought his method inspired, but didn’t wish him to know.
He shrugged. “As long as I found you, I did not care by which method, especially after you lied to me.”
Oh, no, she would not feel guilty for that. “I only lied because you purposefully made it difficult to paint you just so you could request another boon.”
He had the wherewithal to look chagrined. “You have found me out.”
Feeling far lighter than she had all week, she smiled. “You are forgiven. Now, shall we get started?” She gave him a stern look. “Will you behave today, or must I expect to grant you another favor?”
He put a hand to his chest and gave a short bow. “I promise to remain quiet and still for you.” He winked. “After all, I was repaid for your lie with a kiss, so I am content.”
Heat suffused her cheeks, and she quickly turned away. She couldn’t let her new curiosity in him sway her from her course. Soon, not only would she know what she’d been doing wrong in her paintings regarding male figures, but her fingers burned with the knowledge that she had the right subject to bring her creative talent to its peak. “I’ll gather my supplies. Joanna brought me new oils, so I will practice with them today.”
“Practice?”
She turned her easel around so she could view the settee. “Yes. Oils are more difficult to use because I must mix colors for those I want but don’t have. Also, there will be layers of color, so I will need a bit of linseed oil to thin the paint and make everything blend correctly.” She dragged her supplies table over to the easel before crossing the room and stepping behind the yellow and gold striped settee to pull the white curtains closed. Finally, she retrieved the violet silk cloth from the top of her chest which she’d originally planned for a set of pillows for her bed and draped it on the settee.
“It appears you have a particular setting in mind.”
