Page 5 of The Art of Sinning
“If that would work, I might consider it,” the earl grumbled. When Jeremy lifted an eyebrow, he added, “I’m joking. Mostly.”
“Why is it so all-fired important that she marry?”
Blakeborough stared into the ballroom at his sister. “I want her to be happy. And the longer she lives alone with me, the more likely that she will be dragged down by my cynical temperament.”
“Ah. Now that, I understand.” He wanted Amanda to be happy, too. He just didn’t want to sacrifice his own happiness for it.
“You said you have a sister as well?” the earl asked.
“Yes. And if you think it’s hard to getyoursister married off, you should try it with mine.”
“Unattractive, is she?”
“No, her looks aren’t the problem. Amanda runs four textile mills in America as competently as any man, which doesn’t exactly endear her to the male populace.”
“Yes, but does she have a tart tongue likemysister?”
Jeremy snorted. “Despite being a little slip of a thing, she cows fellows twice her size.”
“But surely she can’t be as suspicious of men as Yvette.”
“Only of every chap she meets. And though Amanda is quite pretty, she has a horrible sense of fashion. At leastyoursister knows how to dress well.”
“When she chooses. You should see her wearing her most ragged gown and her permanently ink-stained gloves, poring over dog-eared manuscripts with a pencil behind one ear. Half the time, that damned pencil looses her hair from its pins to fall down about her shoulders.”
Jeremy would love to see Lady Yvette with her hair down. Not that he’d mention that to her brother. “That can’t compare to Amanda at the mills. She wearstrousersbeneath her skirts. Says they’re necessary to her modesty when she has to climb the ladders.”
“Climbs ladders, does she?” Blakeborough chuckled. “She and Yvette will get along famously. A pity that I need a wife willing to live in England. I’d marry her myself.” He paused. “Does your sister evenwantto marry?”
“Who knows? Though I suspect she’d like to have children.”
Or maybe not, given the tragic deaths of Hannah and baby Theodore. That had made quite an impression on Amanda in her youth.
Shoving that painful memory to the back of his mind, he took a puff on his cigar. “But whether Amanda wants a husband or not, I’m selfish enough to want her to have one. Then she might stop plaguing me to return home and help her run the confounded mills. She could get her spouse to help her instead.”
Blakeborough laughed. “You should coax her to come here to gain a husband. I can think of any number of younger sons with fine educations, good characters, and sterling connections who have no chance of making something of themselves while their families limit them to the few opportunities that are open to respectable gentlemen in the clergy, law, or the military. They would welcome the chance to start anew somewhere abroad.”
Jeremy gaped at him. “What a brilliant idea! She’s actually on her way here and should arrive within the month with my mother in tow. If you’d be willing to introduce her to decent gentlemen who might not mind moving to the countryside of Pennsylvania—”
“I’d be perfectly willing... as long asyouare willing to paint my sister’s portrait.” The earl cast him a calculating stare. “What do you say? Is that a trade you would consider?”
Hmm. Much as he hated doing portraits, he hated even more the idea of arguing with Amanda continually about his refusal to return home. Maybe if he could gain her a husband, he’d finally get some peace.
He glanced back into the ballroom. And who was to say that in the course of meeting his obligation, he couldn’t also convince Lady Yvette to model for the other work that had seized his imagination so thoroughly? He had a knack for charming women. Especially ones he wanted to paint.
“All right.” He thrust out his hand. “It’s a trade.”
Blakeborough brightened as he shook it vigorously. “You won’t regret it, I swear. We’ll get our sisters married off yet.”
And Jeremy would get his masterpiece at last.
Two
Lady Yvette Barlow had just left the retiring room, headed for the ballroom, when she practically knocked over the bride.
“Yvette!” Jane cried. “You came!”
“Of course I came.” Yvette kissed her friend on the cheek. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. I’m so very happy for you.” She meant that most sincerely.
