He glanced regrettably at the pile, all of which demanded his immediate attention.
“Take a footman with you.”
“Must I? Couldn’t I take a maid?”
“Very well, a maid. But don’t be long, mind.”
Merry clapped her hands and rushed over and kissed his cheek. “You are a splendid cousin.”
After she left, Robert stared at the shut door. He couldn’t imagine Kate ever being quite that frivolous.
*
“It’s finished!”
Sir Thomas turned the easel in Kate’s direction. She was rubbing her neck trying to ease the stiffness and looked up at the canvas.
A lady with an elegant countenance stared off into the distance. Behind her, a river wound its way through classical ruins beneath rose-tinted clouds in an azure sky. The lady who was surely not her, was beautiful. Her green eyes lit with amber lights smiled enigmatically from beneath the shallow-crowned black hat trimmed with curling ostrich feathers. Did her eyes really tilt up at the corners like that? And surely the golden highlights woven through the lock of hair resting on her shoulder were a figment of the artist’s imagination? Her hair was more brown than gold. The cleverly wrought muslin gown clung to her creamy-skinned bosom and slender body in graceful folds. A fringed shawl graced her arms, catching the highlights in her eyes and hair.
“It’s wonderful. I can’t believe that’s me,” she said faintly.
“I’ve captured your essence well,” Sir Thomas said with an air of satisfaction.
“You have created a beautiful painting, Sir Thomas. I am most grateful. Thank you.”
He bowed. “It was my pleasure to have such an excellent subject.”
Kate arrived home and was peeling off her gloves when informed by Hove that Merry was promenading in the park. She had taken Brigitte with her.
A stab of unease took hold. “How long has she been gone, Hove?”
“Two hours, my lady.”
“Is his lordship at home?”
“Yes. In the library.”
Brigitte was not the best companion for Mary. And Kate was suspicious of Merry’s sudden desire to commune with nature.
She entered the library. The sight of Robert’s dark head bent over the desk caught at her heart. “Robert?”
Pen poised in his hand, he glanced up. “You’re back.” He put down his pen and eased his shoulders. “Have you finished with Gainsborough?”
She’d forgotten all about the portrait. She crossed the carpet to his desk, thinking he looked tired. He planned to employ more staff but had yet to do it. “All done. It’s beautifully done, but I doubt it looks like me.”
He smiled. “Nevertheless, I am eager to view it.”
“It will be delivered in a few days.”
She glanced up at the portrait of him hanging over the fireplace on the far wall. “You look quite solemn in that painting.”
He nodded. “I suppose I was at that time.”
She leaned back against his wide polished desk scattered with papers and folders and gazed into his face, wanting desperately for him to move closer, to take her into his arms. “And you’re not now?”
“I don’t believe so,” he said challengingly.
She sighed. She didn’t have the energy to dispute it. “Merry has gone to the park with my maid. I’m a little uneasy about it.”
