Page 28 of Untaming Lady Violet
“It’s an excellent wager. In fact, I shall adopt it, Tristan. I heartily agree if you should win the game, you must paint our Violet’s portrait.” Celia clapped her hands in obvious glee. “How lucky for you, Violet! Not many are privy to Tristan’s talent, or can say they are on the receiving end.”
Violet looked vaguely distressed but smoothed her features back into an expression of blandness.
“Then I, too, shall base my wager upon Longleigh’s skills as an artist.”
“Oh?” Tristan’s eyebrow rose high in surprise. Violet was exhibiting far more bravado than he expected. It was quite scandalous that he suggested painting her, an innocent, unwed girl. To her credit, she was taking it in stride. Perhaps, shewantedto be painted.
The very idea nearly made his hands shake with anticipation.
I’ll position her on the floor so those lovely, amethyst eyes are looking directly up at me. A lock of that gorgeous auburn hair curling over one bare, ivory shoulder, her arm resting languidly on a plump ottoman. I want her to look as though she’s been thoroughly kissed and is unable to stand from the lust I’ve stirred within her…
“I should like a painting of Carrot, if you please.” She gave Tristan a shyly apologetic smile, unaware she was shattering his vision of their session. “I-I’m afraid it might be all I have of remembering him if I am forced to give him up.”
“Oh, what fun this shall be!” Celia exclaimed. “Let us begin at once. I cannot imagine how you would entice a cat to sit for a portraiture, but if Violet wins, it will be the first time Tristan has ever painted one. He simply loathes the creatures, after all.”
“Are you sure of your wager, Violet?” Tristan asked with a slight frown. He ignored his sister.
“Most certainly.” Cocking her head, she stared at him, appearing surer than she had a right to be. “Are you?”
Tristan took a sip of whiskey, tipping the glass at Violet in mock salute. “I’ve never been more convinced of a decision in all my life.”
Lord Harvey dealt the cards and the first game began in earnest.
Tristan, despite his best effort, lost the initial hand. It was expected when Violet commanded all of his attention. Her every move fascinated him. The way she bit her bottom lip in concentration. The manner in which she fanned the cards just so in her delicate hand. The devilish sparkle in her eyes when she won the first trick. All entrancing and arousing and so infuriating he wished they were someplace private for games of another sort.
“Congratulations, Lady Violet,” Lord Harvey said with an admiring laugh. “A lucky turn for you.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied modestly. “Shall we continue playing?”
“Best of three, my dear. It would be only fair,” Tristan barked in a tight voice. Damn, he should pay more attention to the game if he hoped to win the prize. Could he get away with asking her to wear a shoulder revealing gown for his painting?
Of course, he could. He’d insist upon it. The difference in shading between her skin and hair would be a masterpiece. Because if any woman should be immortalized on canvas, it was this girl. Damn, if she didn’t exude light. And yet, the light seemed determined to find its way back to her. She glowed with a creamy luminosity he found difficult to look away from. Couldn’t everyone see it? Or was it only his artist’s eye devouring such perfection?
“All right,” Violet agreed, dropping her gaze from his heated one. Fumbling with the cards, she managed to deal them without incident.
The next hand was squarely won by Tristan. Celia crowed with triumph before giving Violet an apologetic embrace.
“So sorry, dear,” Celia grinned at her best friend. “I am, however, quite excited to see your portraiture.”
Violet grit her teeth and smiled. “There are still games to be played. And Carrot will prove excellent subject matter for the viscount’s impressive talent.”
Tristan’s derisive snort was disregarded.
The next few hands passed in quick procession, and by the end, the crowd was stunned into silence by the precise brutality of the winner.
“I shall defer to your expertise on location for Carrot’s painting, my lord.” Violet stood from the table. “But I do prefer an outdoor setting as I’ve always admired your use of color when it comes to landscapes.”
Tristan gathered the cards in one hand. Exactly how had he lost so quickly and so thoroughly to the shy, little redhead? She’d massacred them all in short order after he’d won the one and only hand. Her skill was amazing.
“Of course,” he muttered. Unused to losing, he couldn’t manage more than that.
“Tristan, I warned you she would crush your ego. Don’t be angry that you lost.” A note of anxiety threaded Celia’s tone. She stood, linking arms with Violet while speaking to her in a low voice. “Darling, you might have shown himsomemercy.”
Tristan waved his hand in dismissal of his sister’s concern. “I’m merely thinking of a perfect spot to capture the little beast on canvas. Congratulations, Lady Violet, on your masterful play.”
“Here, here!” Lord Harvey exclaimed. “Never seen a trouncing so quickly done. I don’t even mind losing when the opponent displays such obvious skill.”
“Because of your generous spirit, Lord Harvey, I shall grant you at least three waltzes,” Celia smiled, releasing Violet so she could lay a hand on the man’s forearm. “A cheerful loser is indeed a rarity.”
