Page 99 of His Tempting Duchess

The crowd parted for her and Cassian as if by magic. They carved out a wide path towardsThe First Day,his hand still in hers. Stepping aside, they let the Prince walk up to the painting.

His eyes widened. He stepped forward, saying nothing. A tense hush fell over the ballroom.

“The colors are remarkable,” he murmured, half to himself. “And the intimacy of the painting… I must say, duchess, this is not what I expected.” He glanced at her as if expecting some response.

“I pride myself on being unpredictable,” Emily responded, tilting her chin up.

The Prince arched an eyebrow and gave the tiniest,tiniestsmile, turning back to the painting.

“Blood on the sheets,” he noted, and a murmur rippled through the room. “A fine way of depicting my dear mother’s struggles to bring me into the world. Very subtle, though. Very discreet. And my father…” he trailed off, a furrow appearing between his eyebrows.

The Prince Regent half lifted his hand towards the painted King hunched at the end of his wife’s bed, mirroring the way the King reached out hesitantly to his firstborn child.

He seemed to compose himself, letting his hand drop to his side and clearing his throat loudly. Turning around, he faced the crowd, meeting Emily’s eyes first and then Cassian's.

“It’s perfect,” he said aloud.

There were a few surprised gasps—apparently, not everybody had believed that the Prince would be pleased with Emily’s painting—and murmurs broke out.

“I am so glad, Your Highness,” Emily gasped, feeling oddly weak.

“Yes, I like this painting very much. And I look forward to seeing the rest of your work, duchess.” He took a step forward, and his entourage surged around him. “Anon is Anon no more, it seems, and I for one am rather fascinated to see what she will do next.”

CHAPTER30

By the time the final guest left, the first light of dawn was creeping over the horizon.

That was to be expected, of course. Cassian had always known that only one of two choices were open to them.

One, the Prince Regent would turn up his nose at the painting or not arrive at all. In that case, people would fall over themselves to leave, probably in the hopes of pretending that they’d never arrived at all.

Two, the Prince Regent would adore the painting, and the Duchess of Clapton would be the leading lady of London, with friends everywhere, drowning in newfound popularity and fame.

Aphrodite in spectacles, indeed.

Cassian suppressed a smile.

The ballroom was now empty, the last guests having finally been ushered out. The room was a mess, of course, with food and spilled drinks littering the floor, empty and half-full glasses and cups of tea everywhere. In one place, the garlands decorating the mantelpiece had fallen down, lying miserably before the hearth.

Eight of Emily’s pictures remained on the walls.The First Day,of course, had been taken by the Prince Regent, as it was his.

Emily stood in front of the empty part of the wall, staring up at nothing at all.

To his horror, Cassian felt his heart swell at the sight of her. He wavered, wondering if it were wise to slip away. Yes, perhaps so.

He still ran through the events of that night in the carriage, cursing his foolishness. If they hadn’t arrived home at that moment, who knew what might have happened? He had been painfully aroused, mad with desire and so hungry for her touch that it had seemed like he might die without it.

It had taken more strength than he cared to admit to tear himself away, to rush up to his room and shut himself in, and then plunge his hand below his waistband to take care of matters himself.

You’re a fool. You know she wants love. Women do, don’t they? They dream of romance, of being adored. Not that men want anything different. She’ll never be satisfied with only your hand. She wants your heart.

Perhaps it already belongs to her.

He dismissed that worrying thought, conjuring up an image of Matthew in his dizzy, hollow-eyed state that night before his death. It gave him the strength he needed to turn away.

However, at that moment, Emily turned around, spotting him at the other end of the ballroom. She gave a faint, weak smile, and to his horror, he noticed that she had been crying.

His legs seemed to move of their own accord, carrying him across the ballroom to her.

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