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Orris decided she would write to her uncle and ask him to give a letter to Thomas. He should have said goodbye to her in person, but she would endeavor to forgive him. Something deep inside her clued her in on the fact that an act of closure may be the only way she could truly move on.

As she finished her breakfast, she pulled out a stationery and a pen with ink.

As she wrote the name, she realized… she had not written Thomas. Instead, she had written someone else’s name…

Aldridge.

Damn. What had come over her?

*

Orris arrived and found each of her family members were in place. She was the last. Mama gave her a stern look, which she ignored as she headed to her space at the end. She tried to recall her expression from the day before, but it was not easy to focus on anything other than the embarrassing moment when she’d thought Mr. Fain had called her beautiful.

Her cheeks heated at the mortification.

“Orris, you shouldn’t laugh during the sitting. This is meant to be serious,” Violetta said. Of course she did.

“Focus on your own image, Vi,” Orris retorted.

Myrtle chuckled, ever the one to break any tension between her younger siblings.

“Actually,” Mr. Fain interjected, “a hint of amusement does the most miraculous things to the eyes. Happiness can be captured, even without evidence of a smile. So please, feel free to laugh, joke with one another, or even show affection. It will show in the portrait, evidence of a happy life for a happy family.”

Orris turned to Violetta and stuck her tongue out.

“Very well,” Violetta said, “do behave like a child, Orris. It may save us all.”

“Now, now, ladies. Let us not be vipers. I am sure, like amusement, annoyance shines through as well,” Mama said.

She had not scolded them, but the words cut as if she had. Orris returned her attention to the back of the easel.

Had he protected her? Perhaps he had only been providing direction to his subjects. Even so, to have someone speak on her behalf… No one had ever done so before. The center of her chest warmed, and a smile slipped over her lips. If mirth showed in her eyes, she wondered if that might be her best portrait ever.

Even as she thought fondly of him, she offered herself a stern reminder. A painter, while he may have had access to those of her status, he would not be an appropriate match. It was far too soon to consider anything like that, as she had only just met him. However, to like him would be in vain. She would keep her distance. Her heart had proven unreliable in the past.

Orris would not make the same mistake again.

Chapter Six

“Who is that?” Rowan asked.

Abram had spent the morning at Gray House. A great deal of his portrait had been sketched in the time. While he should have been focused on capturing the image of the entire family, there he sat scribbling an image of Miss Orris Gray.

“No one. Simply someone I dreamed up,” he lied.

There was no reason to get Rowan worked up. He might have an attack of nerves if he thought they would stay in London a moment longer than necessary.

Rowan took the seat across from Abram in their new favorite establishment, the Dove and Hound. It was somewhat the gentleman’s club, but not nearly as stuffy as White’s. Abram had no interest in hobnobbing with the elites of London. Even if they were members of high society, when in the Dove, they did not bother to advertise it. Gambling and women were great equalizers.

“No drink, then?”

“Aren’t you the nosy parker this afternoon? No,” Abram replied. “I am not drinking, as I have to continue working on the portrait. I am to be paid handsomely, so I shall deliver a painting that is equally attractive.”

“Hmph… That’s honorable of you, my lord.” Rowan waved his hand in the air to request service.

“I may be a louse, but I am respectable, Rowan.” Releasing a chortle, Abram returned to the image. Her mouth was near perfection, the cupid’s bow at the top of her lip, the soft curve near the bottom. When she smiled, one side went up a touch higher than the other. Abram feared he lacked the talent to bring a thing of such beauty to life.

“Two pints and two whiskeys,” Rowan said.