The man never was good at admitting he was wrong. It was a pathetic attempt. “No. She sees me as an object to paint like a bowl of fruit. Those were her actual words.”
Harewood pulled his head back to rest against the seat cushion as he studied him. “I suppose you do have a certain classical appeal. She has studied the masters, so I can see why your Apollo-like appearance would be of interest to her as an artist.”
He tensed. His appearance was both an advantage and a curse as he’d discovered. At least Lady Amelia was interested in it for an artistic reason, which made it much more palatable. “It’s rather ironic. The one woman I finally propose to is more interested in me as anobjet d’artthan as a husband.”
Harewood grunted. “When are you to give Lady Amelia your answer?”
“I didn’t say.”
“You don’t have much time left.”
He gave Harewood a piercing look. “I’m well aware of my time constraints.”
“If it weren’t for this ungodly weather, you would have been fine.”
“I know.” He sighed. He’d never planned on a love match, but he had wanted to find someone who had some depth of character. All the young ladies he’d conversed with had been, at best, uninteresting. That was, until this afternoon.
Harewood leaned forward. “You could try selling more paintings. Just because that one was a forgery doesn’t mean they all are. It could provide the income you need until the spring.”
“I have thought of that. In fact, I learned today that Lady Amelia can tell the difference between a forgery and a true masterpiece.”
Harewood looked askance at him. “So if you could manage to have her review the paintings you have here at your London house, you would know which you could sell, and then gracefully decline her proposal.” Harewood pulled in air through his nose. “That’s brilliant.”
“I thought so as well.”
“Braggart.”
He laughed. Now all he needed was to create a way for Lady Amelia to review all his paintings before her family left for the country. If he didn’t have as many authentic pieces as he thought he did, he could accept her proposal. And if he did have plenty he could sell, that would sustain those who depended upon him until spring. Then his new investments could take over from there, and he wouldn’t have to marry so quickly. There was only one problem. Lady Amelia’s counterproposal had done what no woman in two years had been able to do. She had caught his interest.
Lady Dulac’s ball
Andrew scanned thedancers for Lady Amelia. She was to be his next partner. He found her at the front of the line just about to make her way down the center of two rows of couples. Earlier in the evening, she’d been surprised at his request for her supper dance. He had yet to accept her proposal, so dancing with her was still perfectly appropriate as they had no bargain yet, if ever they would.
At that moment, she moved gracefully down the middle of the room with her partner, her smile wide as the wisps of hair about her face swayed with her movement. Her small breasts and lithe form added to her fairy-like mystique.
“I understand her to have a substantial dowry.” Harewood stood next to him, dressed in all black except for his white shirt and cravat, the opposite of himself as usual.
“You were discreet in your inquires?”
A snort was all he received in reply. While marriage was a pressing need, it did necessitate a woman with a significant dowry. Yes, she was the daughter of a marquess. She was also the epitome of beauty in the eyes of theton.Wearing a lavender dress that brought out the color of her eyes, she looked particularly striking in the light of the ballroom. And after last week’s counterproposal, he also found her intriguing, but none of that mattered if she didn’t come with the dowry he needed to sustain his mother, younger brother, Christopher, and his tenants through to next summer. Their needs took precedence, no matter how he felt personally.
“I admit my suggestion was quite brilliant. She fits your needs and she’s pretty in the typical fashion.” Harewood was obviously still smarting from having missed his prediction about Lady Amelia so thoroughly. He only touted his own intelligence after being off the mark.
As the dance continued, he faced Harewood. “I hope she understands the responsibilities of life. There are heirs to beget and social obligations to be met. I’d much rather a lady who is pleasing in other ways beyond appearances.”
Harewood frowned. “Not every woman you meet is a Lady Frederica.”
Even though it had been three years past, the mention of that particular lady still gave him a chill. “True, but I must assume every woman is exactly like her until I know more.”
“I understand.” Harewood looked past him then returned to their conversation. “I don’t think you need concern yourself with Lady Amelia manipulating you into any particular situation. I haven’t heard a word about you calling on her earlier this week, so she obviously has not mentioned it. You also have already proposed and since she didn’t exactly say yes, it does appear like she won’t make your decision for you. This is her first season, and she’s turned down a couple of offers. It appears she is enjoying herself too much to consider marriage. I should have noticed that before. I’m quite surprised she even entertained your offer.”
He studied his friend. “How do you know so much about the lady? I thought you said you avoided your neighbors in Bedford.”
“I simply know more than you do because Keighley was smitten early in the season before he married.”
That made sense. The Earl of Keighley was an art collector like himself, and Lady Amelia was an artist. Keighley was a cold fish. No doubt he’d display his wife like he displayed his art: arrogantly.
The dance was nearing its end. His next conversation would have to be broached carefully. If any of thetonsniffed out a hint of his inherited financial troubles, he could find himself an outsider. That would be uncomfortably limiting if he wasn’t able to get the lady in question to review his collection, or if need be, to the altar.
