“You were in the Scarlet Room with me,” he whispered. “There were naked people everywhere.”
“That was different.” Oliver averted his gaze from the painting. “Those people got naked because they were in their cups, and if you wanted to watch them, it was your choice, but they didn’t explicitly ask to be looked at. This painted lady is here because shewantsyou to look at her, but I don’t want to.”
Perry frowned. “That’s the most twisted thought I’ve ever heard, and it doesn’t make sense. Also, the lady is a goddess, Artemis, which explains the moon and the lack of clothes. A goddess doesn’t wear clothes and doesn’t care if you stare at her.”
“Now, that doesn’t make sense.”
The next painting depicted another Greek goddess, Hera. Sold as well. She sat naked on a throne, wearing nothing but a tiara of sorts and holding a sceptre. A fan made of peacock feathers opened behind her.
Perry craned his neck to read the name of the artist. Mr. Valentine Carter. The man had talent, as far as Perry could tell.Talent and an obsession with Greek goddesses. The models were stunning as well.
“Mr. Carter is going to make a fortune today.”
“Hardly.” Oliver kept his gaze low. “I heard he’s up to his neck in debt. Gambling, apparently. He owes money to the coal magnate, Sir Andrew Ferguson as well. He’ll be lucky to get a penny after he pays his creditors.”
“Pity. He’s a great artist.” Perry admired Artemis one last time before moving on.
“Oh, goodness.” Oliver lowered his gaze again when it was Aphrodite’s turn. “I can’t, for the love of me.”
Hmm. Yes, Perry had to admit that Aphrodite was rather bold. She stared directly at him with eyes hooded by pleasure, daring him to say she couldn’t enjoy herself. Oliver kept his head down, conceding Aphrodite her victory. Needless to say, the goddess of love and beauty had been sold as well for five hundred pounds. These paintings wouldn’t be there in a matter of hours.
“Let’s move on,” Oliver whispered.
The next painting was—all the breath was punched out of Perry’s lungs.
He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. The words ‘not possible’ echoed in his mind. The goddess Astrea stood with her arms spread against the backdrop of a dark-blue night sky. Only silver starlight dressed her. Her strawberry-blonde hair formed a halo around her in stark contrast with the night sky. Her forest-green eyes held both shyness and boldness—a combination that made her absolutely stunning. Her curves were one enticing swell after the other. He could spend the whole day tracing them with a finger or his gaze. She looked so real he felt he would touch her if he reached out.
“Tup me blind,” he whispered.
“I’d rather not.” Oliver stared at the tips of his shoes.
“Look.” Perry shook his arm. “You must see this.”
“I’m not sure I’m made for this sort of art. I’d rather stare at still life paintings.”
“Oliver, please, just take a look at this. I need your opinion.”
Scoffing, Oliver raised his head. “Ah! It’s… Dr. Wink—” he hissed before lowering his gaze again.
“As I thought. It’s her. Unequivocally.” Perry ran a hand through his hair.
If he and Oliver had recognised her, anyone could. Hell, her reputation would be ruined forever. She would be mocked and shunned. Her family would suffer, too.
Now Lady Lancaster’s hurry acquired a new meaning. She’d been terrified of someone seeing the painting. In fact, Lady Lancaster could be easily mistaken for Astrea. A disaster. Not that he’d care what a lady chose to do with her body, but he didn’t make the rules. Edith and her sister would be ruined, scorned, and ridiculed. Edith would lose her job as a doctor. She would never find employment.
The price tag read the offers for the painting started at three hundred pounds. Not cheap, but he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t leave her painting there where everyone could buy it.
He nudged Oliver. “Take note of the lot and title. I’m going to buy this damn painting.”
