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“Well, I think we are done, my lord, my lady, Mrs. Gray, and all the Misses Gray.” He stepped back, waiting as the brood of family members excitedly crossed the room and came to view the portrait.

He stood aside and tried not to linger on their expressions, his stomach tightening with anticipation. More than anything, he wanted each of them to appreciate their reflection. It was his first time painting a family portrait, his first time being invited into someone’s home to deliver a piece of artwork.

Thankfully, none of them were frowning. Each person looked utterly satisfied with the way they looked individually and ultimately, the entirety of the portrait, based on their wide eyes and smiles.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Fain. For everything, all of the work you have done here. It is a masterpiece and I could not be more pleased with the outcome.” Mrs. Gray clasped her hands to her chest, her eyebrows raised, and the slight smile on her lips expressed more than her words.

“It has been my pleasure. I appreciate the trust you have placed in me. And if I may, painting your beautiful family was no hardship, ma’am. I am indebted to you.” Abram meant those words, for they were all quite handsome. Even the brooding viscount.

“Would you like to have some tea with us? I know it’s out of the ordinary for you to dine with the family or those who have commissioned your services, but I think you’ll find I am quite unorthodox in my ways at times, Mr. Fain. Won’t you please?” Mrs. Gray asked the question, yet the rest of the family nodded in agreement. All except for the butler, and the man whom he should have wanted to impress more than any other. After all, the viscount carried influence, both with the Gray family and society at large. If his assumed identity was one he would revisit, it should help to have valid references.

Then too… he did want to impress a certain Gray lady above all.

“Yes, of course. We have to allow the painting to dry for a short time, and then I may add any touch-ups to areas that need them once we are done. Thank you for the invitation.” Abram glanced over to find Miss Orris with a slight smile on her lips.

Even with Mrs. Gray’s heartening words, they paled in comparison to one smile from Miss Orris. Absently, he returned a nod to her while rubbing at the warm sensation within his chest.

Chapter Eleven

Earlier in the day, there’d been a moment when Orris had been sure she had imagined the episode entirely. Why would Mr. Fain have been staring at her? Surely, he had been taken with something outside the dress shoppe. In comparison to her sisters, and even her cousin, she was plain, not unattractive, simply the woman with the least-remarkable features.

Where they applied rouge and wore their hair in elaborate braided styles, for the sum total of her lifetime, Orris had never endeavored to stand out in any way. Nor had she gone out of her way to attract potential suitors.

But then, when he had arrived for what would be the final sitting, she could feel the pull to him. She was drawn to him, noted by the exquisite tension that licked at her skin and tightened in her core. There was no manner of condition she knew of that would have made him oblivious to such powerful chemistry.

Orris took a seat, the last available, and waited as her mother poured tea into a cup that she passed along to her. Conveniently, Orris was positioned closest to their guests, the earl and Mr. Fain. She had seen him in close proximity a few times, but that day, in the light of the sun, she could see he had not shaved. His chin was covered with a dusting of reddish brown, and his hair was more mussed than it had been before. The twisted rows appeared more loose, as if he’d run his fingers through them. During most of his visits, he was neatly groomed, nothing out of place.

Not that Orris held contempt for his appearance, nor was she complaining. She appreciated rugged men and had given up entirely on finding many such men in London, or the English countryside, for that matter.

The chatter in the room from her mother and sisters and cousin consumed the room. It was focused on how some young lordling would come see Violetta later in the day. Save Orris, there was significant excitement over the Marquess of Something or Another. And Samuel approved, citing the lord’s general demeanor.

Orris found she held not a single worry over that suitor or any other, at the moment. Instead, she leaned closer to hear the earl and Mr. Fain’s discussion as they had put their heads together in what seemed a conspiratorial manner.

“Why, no. In fact, I have not seen him since our spirited discussion. It is not often, Mr. Fain, I find myself in the presence of those with such contemptible opinions,” Lord Brookshire said. His face was red as if embarrassed, else inebriated. Even with the early hour, one could not put drunkenness and impropriety past the earl. “When was the last time you encountered this Rowan?”

“On the evening last,” Mr. Fain said. “He did not mention leaving. I am sure something delayed him. Sorry to bother you about it.”

“‘Bother’? Not at all. I will say, our viscountess is somewhat the amateur sleuth. Our very own Sherlock, if you will.” The earl chuckled, so amused, the laugh transformed into a sputtering cough.

“She is, in her own right. She apprehended a murderess last season,” Orris interjected. Anything to stop the intended barb from the earl. While Myrtle had not solved the crime before an attempt on her own life, they weren’t wrong about her deductive interests.

“Orris, that is not suitable conversation for afternoon tea,” Mama scolded. She very much believed in keeping one’s family business within the confines of family.

“Mama, I was not the one to bring it up. The earl was saying—”

“Never mind that, dearest. Let us continue with civilized discussions. In fact, there is another guest intending to stop for a visit tomorrow. I received correspondence just this morning. This promises to be a lively season for the Gray family.” The heart-shaped smile ever present whenever there were opportunities for a match afoot crossed the matron’s face.

“Yes, Mama,” Orris said. How was it that talk of suitors was appropriate for outsiders to hear and not something that seemed far more serious, Mr. Fain’s wayward friend? The message was clear. Remain far from scandal and only bother with appropriate interests for young ladies. Appropriate interests were tantamount to playing the pianoforte, learning to cross-stitch, and ensuring to exhibit a serene and peaceful persona in front of all eligible bachelors. In front of society as a whole. Mama had not liked her family’s involvement in the scandal that had caused trembles in the ton.

Orris hated the shackles and confines placed on a woman’s worth. Frivolity was the order of the day, their own personal interests be damned.

“Nonetheless, I do hope you locate your friend,” the earl said.

“I do as well.” Mr. Fain took a drink of what Orris was sure to be Regent’s Punch, only in a teacup. For discretion’s sake, of course.

Samuel had mentioned it was the only way to keep men in the room at teatime, so he’d done a little serving of his own when Mama had been distracted.

“And what of your renovations, Mr. Fredericks?” the earl asked, as nosy as ever.