She waved off his comment with her hand. “Not at all, but I was dancing most of the night. I can’t imagine how boring this must be for them. They only serve as my chaperone when my parents or oldest sister cannot.”
How the many debutantes’ chaperones enjoyed, or not enjoyed, the evening had never occurred to him. He congratulated himself on having a younger brother and not a younger sister. “Is it only your sister and the duke who grow bored?”
Lady Amelia let out a soft chuckle. “I can’t comment on others, but my sister and brother-in-law are far too intellectual for the frivolity of a ball.” She looked askance at him. “I find these events invigorating, don’t you?”
He wouldn’t describe his feelings about a ball in quite that way. Riding the hunt or taking a brisk walk in winter were more his definition of invigorating. “I find them enjoyable in many ways.”
“You do?” Doubt flitted about in her pretty round eyes before she faced forward again. “I suppose in addition to dancing, I do enjoy watching everyone at dinner.”
He found that an odd comment. “Watching?”
“Yes. I like to observe people’s expressions and mannerisms, and guess at what they are discussing and thinking. My sisters and I used to make a game of it when we were younger. Now they are all far too old for such nonsense.” She made it sound as if her older siblings missed so much by not playing the game anymore.
He would think it frustrating and rude to engage in such a game, so he kept silent. What possible purpose could there be in such an endeavor? Where had the observant artist disappeared to?
They entered the very warm ballroom and halted as the dance finished and the dancers bowed to each other. A bell was rung at the wide opening between the room and library, indicating it was time to stroll through to the dining room.
His curiosity as to whether he would catch another glimpse of the thoughtful Lady Amelia was strong. Discourse with her was proving to be both captivating and frustrating the more time he spent with her. She definitely looked at things differently. Could there be more relevant viewpoints yet to come?
As he escorted her into their host’s dining room, his attention was caught by a forgery of the painting ofJunoby Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn. In his fascination with the multifaceted Lady Amelia, he’d almost forgotten his purpose in asking her for the supper dance. One that could help him make his decision regarding her counterproposal. He would remedy that in due course.
Chapter Three
Thankful for LordSommerset’s arm, Amelia felt as if her very balance had deserted her the moment he’d been able to appreciate the beauty of the moon. That she often remarked on such scenes was not unusual, but no one had ever responded with understanding before. It excited her and made her uncomfortable all at once, more the latter.
If the earl were like every other eligible gentleman of theton,his reaction would not have affected her in the least beyond a bit of curiosity. But he wasn’t. His very countenance enticed her to paint, making her far more susceptible to his charms. But for him to understand, no, to have felt a mystic moment made him too tempting as a husband and very dangerous to her artistic plans.
She’d never wanted to be more acquainted with him beyond a dance, knowing that her artist’s eye might sway her towards a more familiar relationship, which she could not pursue yet. Thanks to her aunt’s sudden change of heart, she had but little time to find the pinnacle of her talent. At the reminder of that betrayal, her heart constricted.
She forced herself to focus on the moment and not the past. Until now, she’d only appreciated Lord Sommerset aesthetically. Unfortunately, tonight he wore his usual lighter colors than the typical gentlemen, eschewing classic black for a light brown that made him all the more unique in his handsomeness. Her attempts at sketching him from memory had failed miserably. She simply could not see him well enough in her memory to produce a reasonable image. Her best recourse was to forget she’d ever met him, but that was impossible now.
The only way to avoid him was to not attend balls, but not only did she enjoy them, she’d promised to participate in her first season when she’d begged for her own studio at both family residences. She enjoyed flirting and playing her part. Her favorite activity of the evening was dancing. Though she preferred contemplating her next brush stroke or daydreaming about future paintings, night was rarely conducive to her work, so a ball was the perfect pastime. Someone like Lord Sommerset, with his broad shoulders and sensual smile needed to be painted in the light with full sun glowing on his—
“May I get you a plate?”
His question jarred her thoughts as he brought her to a table where her sister had already seated herself. “That would be lovely. Anything but the lamb. Thank you.”
He acknowledged her instruction with a nod and walked with the duke to the long table laid out with the usual feast.
“I have not met Lord Sommerset before. He’s quite stunning.” Joanna gazed past her.
She pretended a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “He does have the makings of a great painting.” Smirking, she eyed her sister. “Does he fit your Aristotle’s view of beauty?”
“I did not study him that closely.” Joanna finally met her gaze. “I’m no artist, but I think the two of you are aesthetically pleasing.”
“And we both know what a terrible judge of that you are.”
“True.” Joanna chuckled. “Where did you say you met him?”
She thought back to the night three months ago when she’d first been introduced. “We were at the theatre. Lord Harewood was there and introduced us. I understand they have long been friends. I’ve seen him twice since.”
Her sister leaned forward. “Do you find him personable?”
“Joanna, you know I’m not looking for a husband at the moment. I have too much to accomplish first.”
“Yes, but didn’t you say last month that a husband would help you with a particular area of your work.”
At the mention of her rash words about needing a nude man to paint, she blushed. If her sister knew what she’d proposed, she’d be put under lock and key. “I was frustrated. I doubt very much that a husband would be patient enough to sit for me, never mind allow me the time away from my wifely chores to paint in my studio.” She stilled at the thought that once married, she may have no space where she could paint. It sent a chill through her that she couldn’t explain to anyone. It just proved that her counterproposal to Lord Sommerset had been rash and ill-advised. Her only hope now was that he declined. Even at that thought, she found her fingers curling into her palms in frustration.
