Aunt Mary scolded him for letting such a big girl as Amelia sit on his lap, and even Miss Norwood looked askance at him, but Cam ignored them. He’d missed his chance to hold his sister on his lap when she was the proper age for it, so he’d do it now.
Amelia climbed up and placed her first drawing in the center of the desk. “See? This is from yesterday, when we were at Lady Abernathy’s garden. This is a still life, you know.”
Cam grinned at Amelia’s lofty tone, but kept his response serious. “Yes. I see. A close drawing of a daisy, I believe, and you’ve distinguished each petal from the others.”
Amelia tilted her head to the side to study the drawing. “I have, haven’t I?”
Cam tweaked one of her braids. “Yes. Are the others as nice as this one?”
“I think so, rather.” Amelia placed the second drawing on top of the first. “This is another still life, of a whole daisy chain.”
Cam lifted the sheet from the desk to study it more closely. She’d painstakingly drawn each separate flower, and even added a fine crosshatch texture to the yellow centers of the blooms. “Remarkable, especially the shading, Amelia.”
Amelia grinned with pleasure over his praise, then took the drawing from his hands, lay it back on the desk, and placed the third drawing on top of it. “This is a landscape of Lady Abernathy’s garden. I’m afraid I’ll use up my green pastel coloring it.”
Cam studied the third picture. By God, no other eleven-year-old child had ever drawn so well, he was sure. He’d have to buy her more sophisticated art supplies. “Lady Abernathy does have a great deal of green lawn, but no matter. We’ll get you another green pastel. Or a box of green pastels.”
“Oh, thank you, Denny. I need a great deal of green for the last two pictures, too, for I’ve included a lot of trees, even though they’re portraits.”
Amelia turned over the fourth sheet and Cam gave a shout of laughter. “Is that Uncle Julian?”
She giggled. “Yes, and I didn’t make up that expression on his face. He looked just like that, Denny.”
The fourth drawing was of Julian, frowning as he forced a daisy onto a bit of string. His brows were drawn together into a look of frustrated concentration as he tried to manipulate the delicate flower with his large hands. The poor bloom looked a bit crushed, as did the three or four forlorn daisies already on the string.
“I brought Uncle Julian’s daisy chain home with me yesterday and tried to revive it with a bit of water.” Amelia shook her head. “But he’d flattened most of his daisies by the time he got them on the string, and they all died.”
“It’s a lucky thing you drew them while they were still alive, then. Well,” Cam amended with a chuckle, “Mostly alive. For posterity, that is. Daisy chains are not, it seems, one of Uncle Julian’s many talents.”
Julian himself stuck his head around the study door then. “I believe I heard my name, followed by shouts of laughter. I’m here to defend myself.”
“Come see my drawings, Uncle Julian.” Amelia beckoned her uncle across the room. “I did one of you.”
“And there’s no defense for it,” Cam said with a smirk.
Julian crossed to the desk, picked up Amelia’s drawing, and stared at it for a moment before he comically crossed his eyes. “I don’t look like that!”
Amelia giggled. “You did yesterday. Didn’t he, Denny?”
“I didn’t see him hard at work on his daisy chains, minx, but I’ll say this—your other drawings have all been amazingly accurate. Even so, this one of your uncle is my favorite.”
Julian dropped into his chair in front of the desk. “A scandalous libel, that’s what this is.”
“You haven’t seen them all yet.” Amelia placed the last drawing on top of the one she’d done of Julian.
Cam leaned forward to get a better look, then froze.
Amelia had done a drawing of Eleanor Sutherland.
It was a close-up drawing of the lady, although enough of her upper body was visible to see she was bent forward at the waist, in the way of an adult when they lean down to speak to a child. Her head was cocked just a bit to one side, and her lips were parted in a half-smile. A few strands of her rich, dark hair floated around her face. Amelia had taken a great deal of care with the drawing, and she’d captured Eleanor’s lush beauty.
But that wasn’t what caught and held Cam’s attention. It was the eyes. Did Eleanor Sutherland’s eyes really have that soft warmth?
“Don’t you like it, Denny?”
Amelia’s impatient voice reminded Cam he hadn’t said a word yet. “I—I do like it.”
“Let me see it.” Julian held out his hand and Amelia passed him the drawing. He studied it for a moment, then handed it back across the desk. Not to Amelia. To Cam. “What a fine likeness. I think your brother likes it very much, Amelia. It’s his new favorite, I’d wager.”
