Page 75 of A Bargain with the Rakish Duke
As the hours passed, Beatrice lost herself in the painting, her brush dancing across the canvas in a frenzy of inspiration and determination. The colors blended and swirled, the image slowly taking shape under her skilled hand.
The next day, she continued to work tirelessly, her focus unbroken except for the occasional glance out the window at thebustling city below. By the time the afternoon sun began to dip below the horizon, she felt a sense of satisfaction at the progress she had made.
Just as she was cleaning her brushes, the door to her studio opened, and Anna appeared. “Your Grace, Lord Eastfold has arrived for a business meeting with His Grace.”
Beatrice’s heart skipped a beat. She had hoped for a quiet day to focus on her work, but she knew the importance of maintaining cordial relations with Kenneth’s business associates.
She straightened up and nodded. “Thank you, Anna. I’ll be there shortly.”
Descending the grand staircase, Beatrice smoothed down the fresh dress she’d changed into, so Eastfold wouldn’t see any paint stains on her, and took a deep breath.
As she entered the parlor, she found Kenneth and Eastfold deep in conversation. Eastfold’s eyes lit up when he saw her.
“Ah, Your Grace,” he greeted with a charming smile, rising from his seat. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”
Beatrice offered a polite smile, keeping her tone measured. “Lord Eastfold, it’s good to see you as well. I hope your journey was pleasant.”
Eastfold nodded. “It was, indeed…” He paused before continuing, “I have a question for you, Your Grace. Have you ever considered that the finest art often comes from the most unexpected places?”
Beatrice smiled politely. “Indeed, My Lord. Art can surprise us in many ways.”
Eastfold chuckled. “Much like this city, wouldn’t you agree? Full of surprises and hidden gems. Speaking of which, I recently stumbled upon the most delightful, little gallery. They had a piece that reminded me of one of Westback’s earlier works. Have you seen it?”
Beatrice’s eyes lit up with genuine interest. “Oh? I would love to hear more about it.”
Eastfold launched into an anecdote about the eccentric gallery owner, his animated storytelling coaxing a soft laugh from her.
“And then,” he continued, “the owner insisted that the painting was haunted! Can you imagine? A haunted painting in a London gallery!”
Beatrice laughed. “That’s quite the tale, My Lord. I can only imagine the look on your face when you heard that.”
Kenneth cleared his throat, his expression unreadable. “Lord Eastfold, shall we continue our discussion in my study?”
Eastfold nodded, rising from his chair. “Of course, Your Grace. Lead the way.”
Beatrice watched them leave, a small sigh escaping her lips. She picked up a book from the nearby table and settled into a chair by the window. The rhythmic turning of pages soon became a soothing background to the muffled conversation drifting from the study.
After a while, the door to the study opened, and the men emerged. Kenneth’s expression was tight while Eastfold wore his usual charming smile.
As Eastfold approached Beatrice, he took her hand and raised it to his lips, a flirtatious gleam in his eyes. “Your Grace, it has been an absolute pleasure. Until we meet again.”
Beatrice smiled politely, a slight blush bloom in her cheeks. “Thank you, My Lord. Safe travels.”
Eastfold held her gaze for a moment longer than necessary before releasing her hand and turning to Kenneth. “Kenneth, thank you for your time. I look forward to our next meeting.”
Kenneth moved closer to Beatrice and gave Lord Eastfold a curt nod. “Indeed. Safe journey, Lord Eastfold.”
As the door closed behind Eastfold, the tension in the room thickened as Kenneth turned to Beatrice, his eyes dark andquestioning. “Why do you laugh at his every word?” he asked, his voice tight with barely suppressed anger.
Beatrice bristled. “I was simply being courteous. He’s your business associate after all.”
Kenneth’s gaze narrowed. “Courteous? It looked like more than that.”
Beatrice met his gaze evenly, her own frustration mounting. “Lord Eastfold may be charming, but his views on art are entirely mercenary. He sees it as nothing more than a means to make money. It’s disappointing.”
Kenneth’s eyes searched hers, his expression softening slightly. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
Beatrice sighed, feeling the weight of his distrust. “And I don’t like being accused of something I haven’t done. You need to trust me, Kenneth.”
