Page 14 of His Mistress, His Muse, and Other Madness
“We must disagree,” she said, her words barely a whisper. Her bonnet hid most of her face, her expression, but he could still see her lips, pressed into a thin line, her cheeks stained pink.
Ah. So she could be ruffled. Excellent to know.
They did not speak the rest of the way, and when he circled the vehicle to hand her down, he found her already on the ground, looking up at the townhouse before them.
Still, they did not speak as he knocked on Lady Balantine’s door and waited for it to open.
When it did, a butler narrowed his eyes at them. “You look familiar.”
“Do you greet all the lady’s visitors like that?” Lady Cordelia asked. Amusement shaped her words.
“Never mind that,” Theo said. “Is Lady Balantine in? She’s not expecting us, but if she’s in, tell her Lord Theodore Bromley and Lady Cordelia Trent are here.”
The butler’s eyes widened. “Ah, yes. I remember now. You were here that one unfortunate day. Your brother went missing, yes?”
“Yes. We found him.”
“I’m aware. Come along, then.” The butler granted them entrance. “She’ll no doubt wish to speak with you.” He led them to a small parlor on the first floor. Every surface, vertical and horizontal, had been covered with art of some sort. The baroness jumped to her feet at their entrance and bustled toward them.
“Oh, my dears, my dears, mydarlings. Welcome, welcome. Do sit. I’ll ring for tea.” The woman was short but bought several inches of height from a turban wrapped around her head and festooned with feathers taller than the turban. Her gray-blue eyes twinkled, and a rather athletic form carted them across the room with surprising strength. She settled them on chairs near the one she’d vacated, pulled a bell in the corner of the room, then took her seat once more, a grin stretching from ear to ear. “What a lovely surprise to see the two of you here. I would never have expected. But here we are, andwhata delight. Do you have news for me? Or perhaps a request or—”
“A request.” Theo threw the words into the half a breath she’d given them for reply.
“An opportunity.” Lady Cordelia’s words fell at the same time as his own, and they snapped their heads around to glare at one another.
Lady Balantine watched them. “Fascinating. Do go on.”
But which one should go on? Him or her, and—
“Lady Balantine,” she said, the words like a rush of roaring water, “I am opening an art school and looking for financial backers.”
A keening sort of noise wheeled up and out of Lady Balantine’s throat, and it soon morphed into a cry of glee as she clapped hard enough to bring her butler back into the room.
“Yes, my lady?” he queried.
She waved him away. “I am in need of nothing more than something quite large to contain my joy. Oh.”
Lady Cordelia beamed, smirked. Preened, even.
Was that… admiration poking at Theo’s ribs? Because the woman had bested him, had thrown herself into the fray and come out the victor? Certainly not.
Lady Balantine produced a fan out of nowhere, snapped it open, and fluttered it about her face. “Oh. What an absolutely perfect project. And that you’ve asked me to be part of it. I shall expire.”
“Do not expire”—Theo raised his voice a bit more than polite—“until you’ve heard my request.” Theo could compete as well.
The fluttering stopped. The dowager’s head tilted to the side. “A… different request than the one Lady Cordelia has placed before me like a rare treat?”
“Lady Cordelia needs a patron. Not a financial backer.”
“Lady Cordelia doesnot,” the lady in question huffed, and her hands, long and sinewy, wrapped around the cushioned arm of her chair, fingernails almost disappearing into the pale-blue upholstery. Pale-blue chair, pale-yellow gown, pale-green spencer, and fiery auburn hair. The woman could be spring itself, her rage even, an approximation of an angry sun, heating her cheeks into bright-pink flowers.
Lady Balantine snapped her fan shut and tossed it into her lap. “I admit to confusion. I thought you meant to teach art, Lady Cordelia, not make it.”
“You’ve the right of it, my lady. But I will not teach. I’m no good for that. I have teachers already promised to help and a space—”
“Owned by my family, soon to be sold,” Theo said.
“Which I intend to purchase as soon as possible, sooner with your donations.” Lady Cordelia smiled brightly for the dowager.
