The Earl Claims a Bride (20 page)

“The painting is quite good.”

“It’s excellent, Mr. Eyston,” Bishop Worsley said confidently. “Not many artists can paint so small and still have every detail in the face recognizable and you know it.”

Mr. Eyston looked at Angelina again. “Is this all you have, or are there more pieces?”

“I have more of everything,” she said cautiously. “I have been painting for a long time. I paint on fans as well but unfortunately I have no examples to show today.”

Mr. Eyston folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her work again. “If I am interested,” he said, looking back to Angelina, “would you be willing to prove to me you painted these and that you—how shall I say it—that you are not taking credit for anyone else’s work?”

Angelina tried not to get her hopes up. “I would be happy to paint anything you might suggest.”

“All right,” he said. “I don’t suppose you have paint and a brush in that satchel?”

She shook her head.

“Very well.”

He went around to the other side of the desk and picked up the inkwell and quill. He set them down in front of her, then grabbed a clean sheet of vellum and placed it beside the ink. “I realize it’s not oil and brush but if you can paint on ivory and whalebone, you can paint with ink. Show me something that will prove to me you are the artist.”

Angelina moistened her lips and looked down at the ink jar. It had been a long time since she’d used ink but she could do it. But what would she paint that would best show her talent?

“Miss Savill? Is something wrong?”

She looked up at him. “No. May I borrow your spectacles, Mr. Eyston?”

He picked them up and handed them to her.

Her stomach jumped as she removed the satchel and sat down at the desk. “What kind of scene would you like?”

He looked down at one of the miniatures she’d painted of a gentleman and lady strolling in the park, pointed, and said, “This one.”

Angelina relaxed. Inside she was smiling. He had selected one of the easiest things for her to paint: a lady and a gentleman in a garden. She picked up the quill and drew a two-inch circle in the center of the page about the size of a snuffbox lid. The gentleman would be the place she’d start.

Her confidence in her ability kept her hands steady. She wasn’t nervous about what she was doing. She was anxious about whether Mr. Eyston would accept her work to sell in his shop. It was crucial to her plan.

Half an hour later her grandmother and Bishop Worsley were sitting on one of the settees in the shop but Mr. Eyston was still standing over her shoulder, breathing down her neck, watching every stroke of the quill. Her shoulders ached and her eyes were dry from the strain of looking through spectacles she wasn’t used to.

“That’s enough,” he at long last said. “I’m confident you are the artist.”

That cool, refreshing feeling of relief washed over her. Angelina laid the quill down and rose to face him. Her grandmother and the bishop walked over to join them at the desk once again.

“I’ll need some time to evaluate each piece. I already have some clients in mind for some of these.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, Mr. Eyston,” Angelina said, trying not to get her hopes up yet. This was only the beginning. He had not made any offers yet. “Thank you.”

“I’d like to see everything else you have available by the end of the week if possible. After I evaluate all of them, I’ll send over an estimate of what I’m willing to pay for each item.”

Angelina felt tears of joy gather in her eyes at the possibility that her wild idea might actually work. “We’ll have them to you by the end of the week.”

Chapter 17

Friendship is constant in all other things, save in the office and affairs of love.

Much Ado About Nothing
2.2.266–67

It was dark as midnight and freezing cold, too. The rising sun of dawn hadn’t penetrated the gray skies on the horizon. A patchwork of early-morning fog hung low in the misty air and scattered as they slowly rode through it. Harrison’s fingers and toes were tingling but his heavy cloak and the horse beneath his legs helped keep him warm.

“I’m beginning to think we should have waited until midday to ride in the park rather than at daybreak,” Harrison said to Bray, who rode beside him.

“I was just trying to remember if this was your fool idea or mine so I’d know which one of us to call a bloody idiot.”

“It was yours and you damned well know it,” Harrison complained and then finished with a short laugh. “Can you believe we used to do this and actually enjoy it?”

“Ah, but years ago when we’d ride like this,” Bray answered, “we had spent the night gaming and were happy our pockets were full.”

Harrison’s horse nickered and blew puffs of warm air from his nostrils. “And we’d down numerous pints of ale and several glasses of brandy to keep us warm.”

“Do you miss those days?” Bray asked.

Do I?

Harrison took in a deep cold breath and caught the odor of damp foliage. He remembered many rides in the park before, during, and after daybreak when he, Bray, and Adam were the scandalous scoundrels of London Society. Racing through the park on horseback or curricles was almost a nightly pastime, no matter the weather.

“No,” Harrison admitted with a grin. “But I sure as hell enjoyed them at the time.”

“So did I.”

They rode in silence for a time. Through spindly, barren tree limbs, Harrison noticed that the first shards of pink split the sky in the distance. He heard the deep sound of a hound baying in the distance. It reminded him of Angelina’s dogs. And that reminded him of Angelina’s sweet smile, her fresh-as-rainwater scent, and the taste of her honeyed lips. He wanted to see her and he wanted to see her today. Hearing the dog’s howl reminded him of an idea he’d had a couple of days ago but dismissed. A risky idea, but Harrison had never let that stop him.

“So tell me, why did you want me to meet you for an early-morning ride in the park?” Harrison asked.

“What makes you think I had a reason other than wanting someone to talk to while I exercised my horse?”

“Because I’ve known you since I was ten.”

“Tell me it hasn’t been that long?” Bray said dryly.

“It has. Do you have everything arranged for our journey up north on Sunday to see Adam?”

“I’m set. How about you?”

“I’ll be ready. I want to see him but I also need to see Thornwick. I continue to get updates from my manager every couple of days, but he never tells me all I want to know.”

Bray pulled the reins short and stopped his horse. Harrison did the same, thinking it was about time Bray decided to tell him what he had on his mind.

“I have some information for you, if you want it.”

Puzzled, Harrison said, “Go on.”

“First, I want you to know I didn’t go looking for this. The subject came up while I was talking with some gentlemen about an issue that will be discussed in Parliament soon.”

“All right,” Harrison said, remaining cautious and curious as to what this was about. “But you need to know I haven’t mastered being an earl, yet. I have no desire to wade in the political waters of Parliament.”

Bray reached inside his coat pocket, pulled out a flask, and tossed it to Harrison.

“Good, you don’t have to worry about that for the current session. This was about a military issue.”

Harrison went still. It had to be about Maxwell.

“Am I going to need this?” Harrison asked, holding up the silver container.

“Only to stay warm.”

“In that case.” Harrison opened the flask and took a drink.

“The information I have for you is about Captain Maxwell.”

For a moment Harrison wondered if he even wanted to hear what Bray had to say. Whatever it was, the information would not alter Harrison’s plans in any way. He still intended to win Angelina’s heart away from the soldier.

Harrison sipped the brandy again, replaced the top, and threw it back to Bray. “I had already assumed that.”

“It concerns how his injury happened.”

Now, that interested Harrison. His horse snorted, shuddered, and shifted beneath him, restless to get moving. “Go on,” he said, reaching down to pat the warm neck of his mount.

“It didn’t result from a battle, a skirmish, or any kind of brave act as I assume most of us suspected. It was an accident.”

Harrison whistled under his breath. That was surprising news. “What happened?”

“His commanding officer said he was inspecting his loaded pistol and it backfired right into his eye.”

“Damnation,” Harrison whispered.

“It was a hell of a thing to have happened.”

“I agree. I haven’t heard any gossip. Is he claiming something different occurred?”

“Not that I know of. He’s not telling anyone what actually transpired and his officers and the people who know are respecting his wishes and keeping quiet, too. That is, except for one officer who decided to divulge the information to the three gentlemen in our group.”

Harrison’s bay stirred restlessly again, causing Bray’s horse to snort and stomp his feet, too. If that many men knew, it would eventually get out.

“I wonder why he wouldn’t want anyone to know the details. It was an accident that could happen to any of us.”

“But shouldn’t happen to an officer. It’s not that I think you should do anything with the information,” Bray said. “I wanted you to know, too, since I had heard.”

“I’m glad you told me. I admit I’d wondered. This is not my story to tell, and if I should hear otherwise, I’ll keep my peace about what I know.”

“I was sure you would.”

Bray uncapped the flask and took a drink. “How are things going with you and Miss Rule?”

“Slow,” Harrison responded, his stomach tightening just thinking about Angelina and how she made him feel. Taking his time wasn’t what Harrison wanted to do, but it was the best approach for her. If he rushed her, she would get more confused about him than she already was. He knew something she didn’t. She could swear to heaven and back that she was in love with Maxwell, but Harrison knew different. She wouldn’t have responded to his kisses the way she had if that were the case. In time, as she got to know the officer she’d realize it. And Harrison had to give her that time.

“Have there been any more rumblings from Hopscotch?” Bray asked.

“Not since the incident at the Heirs’ Club where he reminded me once again how serious the Prince is about his wishes for me to marry Miss Rule.”

As if sensing he would get no more information from Harrison, Bray said, “What do you say we give these horses their heads like we used to? Fifteen pounds if I make it to the Serpentine before you do.”

Harrison took a close look at his friend’s mount. He wasn’t familiar with the horse but he did know the stride, stamina, and speed of his bay.

He grinned at Bray. “Thirty and you’re on.”

Chapter 18

I have suffered with those that I saw suffer!

The Tempest
1.2.5–6

She wasn’t ready by the time Lord Thornwick arrived, but it wasn’t her fault. Her father had rushed in the door minutes ago announcing that he’d just seen Lord Thornwick at the Heirs’ Club and the earl had asked if he could take Angelina for a ride. And of course, her father had happily agreed he could come immediately since Angelina had no other plans.

No other plans!

It’d taken her three days to complete every painting she’d started but for one reason or another had never finished. Yesterday she’d carefully packed all her snuff-and mourning boxes, fans, and miniatures and had them delivered to Bishop Worsley, thinking her job was done and everything was in his hands. She should have known better. The man promptly sent her a note in return saying that she was to continue to paint every day, and as she finished each box or fan she was to send it to him. Already she was finding that while she immensely enjoyed painting for pleasure, she had little desire to paint because she needed to or someone demanded it.

While she dressed, Angelina was alternately frustrated and excited. Frustrated because she’d never get more painting done if she continued to have things happen during the day that kept her from it. And frustrated because she couldn’t figure out what in heaven’s name she was doing being excited about the prospect of seeing the earl.

Captain Maxwell, the man of her dreams, was back in London; he should be the only gentleman she was looking forward to seeing. He was kind, courageous, and wounded. He needed her support and love now most of all. Lord Thornwick was a strong, capable, and carefree man who had no worries and no problems. He certainly didn’t need any compassion from her. That she was eager to see him made no sense to her. Her heart belonged to Captain Maxwell. She was sure of that.

Besides, what kind of man showed up unannounced to visit a young lady with a pot of wilted violets in his hands for her to nurse back to health? Though she had considered it a challenge to save them and make sure they bloomed again just to show Lord Thornwick she could.

She and the earl had seen each other in passing at one of the parties last night, and though there was no conversation between them, they had both done a lot of watching the other. Why she would bother, she had no idea. And now suddenly he wanted to take her for a ride in the park. She just couldn’t figure him out. He followed no acceptable rules of polite behavior. What kind of gentleman would give a lady only a few minutes’ notice?

There was no time to put much thought into what she would wear. She hurriedly donned an ivory carriage dress that was trimmed with dark blue ribbon around the neckline and the cuffs of her sleeves. When Mrs. Bickmore announced that Lord Thornwick had already arrived, Angelina sent her down with matching bonnet and cape and told her to find a parasol to take as well.

Angelina stopped in the vestibule to calm her breathing from scurrying to change. She didn’t have to worry about pinching her cheeks. She was already flushed. Much to her consternation, she always felt that way when she looked at Lord Thornwick. He made her forget she was a calm, sensible young lady who wanted to be in control of her future life.