Page 45 of The Art of Sinning
“Or their wards. Or daughters.” The earl sat up. “We could compare notes on suitors. My brother was a scoundrel, and I didn’t even know how bad. By the time I found out about the women he...” He lapsed into a long, brooding silence.
“The women he what?” Jeremy prodded.
“You don’t want to know.” He shivered. “But if anybody had told me what he was up to, I could have... I don’t know...”
“Stopped him? Probably not. But you could have warned the women off.”
“Exactly! Or their brothers. Or fathers. Or... whoever cared for them.” Blakeborough set his glass down firmly. “Weshouldstart a club. To protect our women from bad suitors. Who better than us? Oh, and Knightford. We should bring him in.”
“Knightford? He’s got a reputation!”
Blakeborough’s eyebrows shot up. “You do, too. That’s why you’d both be good members. You could ferret out the scoundrels. And he knows dirt about everybody.”
“Because he’s down in the muck with ’em.”
“Likeyou.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, I’m not in the—” Jeremy made a disgusted noise. “Anyway, why include him? He doesn’t have a sister.”
“But he has a cousin to marry off.” The earl scowled. “Someoneshould find out about those fellows flirting with Clarissa.”
“You seem awfully interested in Clarissa.”
A dull flush colored Blakeborough’s cheeks. “It’s just a brotherly sort of concern.”
Jeremy wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t want to poke the bear. Not when they were getting along so well.
“So Knightford wouldwantto join, because of Clarissa,” Blakeborough went on. When Jeremy muttered a curse, Blakeborough added, “Better to have him close, where we can keep an eye on him. Right?”
Hmm. Good idea. They could make sure Knightford behaved. Didn’t try to court Yvette.
Slumping in his chair, Jeremy scowled. What did he care who courted Yvette? Wasn’t his concern.He had two paintings to finish.
And when the hell was she coming home, anyway? How could he paint her if she spent all her time with that ass Knightford?
“Excuse me, sir.”
Jeremy glanced over to see his apprentice lurking in the doorway.
“Come in, come in, young Damber!” Blakeborough said with an expansive gesture. “We’re just having a bit of brandy.”
When Damber snorted, Jeremy rose to interrupt the young fool before he insulted the earl. “What is it?”
“I wondered if you were done with me for the evening, sir. I thought I’d go down to supper with the servants if you don’t need nothing else.”
The servants. Hmm. “Actually, I did want to speak to you about one matter.” He dipped his head at Edwin. “That is, if your lordship doesn’t mind my getting back to work.”
“Do as you must,” Blakeborough said genially, and poured himself another glass, clearly intent on finishing the bottle. “See you in the morning. We’ll discuss our plans for our club more then.”
“Certainly,” Jeremy said, though he wondered if either of them would remember much of their conversation in the morning.
He’d better sober up. He still had to paint Yvette tonight, assuming that she returned.
Nodding Damber from the room, he waited until they were a short way down the hall before he halted the lad. “You and the earl’s servants get along well, don’t you?”
Damber eyed him warily. “I think so. Why?”
Yes, why? Oh, right. Yvette.
