“I’m at your service,” he drawled, his voice a shiver up her spine.
“Would you sit for me?” she asked.
“You want to draw me?”
“Yes.” She might, then, be able to see if he still loved her in some small way. “I should very much like to draw you.”
“Course you would. But be quick.” He waved the flowers. “I have business to attend to.”
They returned to her easel together, and she positioned her chair on the other side, then positioned herself before her canvas as he slouched into the seat. She cleaned her brush and put away her paints and pulled her sketchbook from a leather satchel nearby.
She drew the angle of his nose, the sweep of his hair, and the small cut on his smooth jaw, a razor’s bite.
“You haven’t drawn me in years,” he drawled. “Six to be precise. I’m the best model you’ve ever had, admit it.”
“You’re the wiggliest model, which means you’ve much to be desired in that area. I would not recommend you to other artists.”
“Good,” he said, his gaze still on her and somehow hotter than the air, “I do not particularly desire to sit for any other artist. Just you.”
The tip of her pencil snapped against the paper. “Curses.” She shook her head, took a breath. “Why the Folly?”
“Uncle Dudley willed it to me. I wanted to prove myself, and?—”
“And you like the dramatic.”
The corner of his mouth kicked up. She drew it.
“What was your favorite thing to do in France?” he asked.
“Shop.”
“Really? I would have guessed art museums.”
“I like pretty things, it seems. Art, clothing, sunsets”—him—“doesn’t matter what.”
“Youare a pretty thing.” Her pencil skipped. She cleared her throat. “Do you still prefer summer to winter?”
“Yes. Do you still eat peppermints?”
He nodded. “And you?”
“There’s one in my pocket now.”
“Same Tessa,” he sighed. “And yet… I think you’ve become moreyouthan you used to be.” A bird flew between them, and he swatted a bug off his shoulder then slung one arm over the back of the chair. “Have you seen your sister yet?”
“Yes.” She couldn’t help a smile. “I got to see her a few days ago, while you were playing Lady Godiva.”
“I daresay that’s worth missing the spectacle.How is she?”
“Grown tall and lanky. No longer the baby sister I used to know. She’s also so… so very bright.”
“I told Timothy to look out for her.”
“I must know how he reacted.”
“Not well.”
“Then he’s not harboring any unrequited feelings for her. That’s a relief.”
