Page 21 of Must Love Dukes
“Yes.” She reached for the bow again, and he lifted it out of her reach. “I only wanted to hold it,” she muttered.
“No. I need both my eyes.”
Miss Bell blew out a breath. “Fine. The sea is good for a variety of ailments. It is a scientific fact. Salt benefits the skin and lungs. Have you never seabathed, Your Grace?”
“If you are asking whether I swim, the answer is yes.” Hugh loved the ocean, as it happened, so it was gratifying to know Miss Bell adored the sand and surf as much as he did. “But I do not do so in a crowd of nitwits flapping about in the water like a pack of seals.”
She covered her mouth with a palm as an unladylike snort came from her. “A pack of seals.”
“Also, I do so without a bathing costume.” He winked at her. “Unclothed.”
Color stained her cheeks. “Are you deliberately trying to shock me, Buxton?”
“A little, perhaps.” Hugh noticed that when she was shocked or annoyed, Miss Bell completely forgot to address him properly. Her cheeks also turned a delightful shade of peach. And just now, with the sun casting her features in a golden light and those delectable lips parted, all Hugh could think of was kissing her.
“Should we begin my portrait today, Miss Bell?”
“Oh, yes. Your portrait.” She turned slowly around. “There is a spot in the garden with excellent light,” she said, looking up at the sky with a frown. “But I do not think for long.” Miss Bell nodded at the gathering clouds. “A pity, because I should like to get started as soon as possible, though it will take me until the end of the house party to complete your portrait.” A sideways glance was followed by a tiny smile. “As you say, Your Grace,an acceptable excuse to be in each other’s company and keep Todson at bay.”
“I’m clever in that regard, Miss Bell.”
As expected, she rolled her eyes.
“The other ladies present won’t dare approach me and risk ruining my portrait. And I thought Todson sufficiently vanquished.”
“Not completely, Your Grace. He lingers. Much like a bad cold. Or a skin rash.”
Hugh let out a small bark of laughter. “Do not worry, Miss Bell. I doubt Todson will pursue you further. Now, Savorton has a greenhouse we could use for our endeavor. You might gain inspiration from the orange trees.” Hugh pointed to the roof, barely discernable from where they stood. The greenhouse would offer privacy, but since the walls were entirely made of glass, he and Miss Bell would be clearly seen by the other guests. “Not a whisper of impropriety. We’ll be in full view of the others.”
“Splendid. Much like an animal at a zoo. But I suppose you are accustomed to such, Your Grace. Allow me to retrieve my sketchbook. Wemuststart with a sketch. I did bring my paints and bushes.” Her brows drew together. “But not a canvas.”
“Leave that to me, Miss Bell. I’ll speak to Lady Savorton. I’m sure a canvas can be found. Gather your things, and I’ll meet you inside.” He tilted his head in the direction of the greenhouse.
She once more dipped into an awkward curtsey. “Yes, Your Grace.”
8
Muriel whistled a merry tune, sketchbook clasped tightly under one arm as she strode across the lawn in the direction of Lord Savorton’s greenhouse. Today, she would focus on a preliminary sketch of Buxton and then, once she was satisfied, would transfer the sketch to the canvas. Already, her mind was riffling through the different shades of red and gold she meant to use. A considerable amount of time had been devoted to how best to incorporate a radish into his portrait, though she still saw him as an oak tree. The nose was the most obvious choice, but it didn’t feel…right to her. Placing a radish elsewhere would be a challenge.
“Muriel, where do you think you’re off to?” Nora stopped her, taking in the sight of the sketchbook with a grimace. “The duke’s portrait I suppose. I don’t know why he would want one of those…monstrosities.”
Monstrosities. Nora had little appreciation for the magic of Arcimboldo.
“Yes. I’m to sketch him in the greenhouse, as it happens. And my paintings are not monstrosities.”
“His Grace truly appreciates,” the words stumbled in disbelief. “Your vision?”
“I’ve said as much, Lady Allred.” Buxton appeared, charm dripping off him as he took Nora’s hand in his own “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Well, I—this is most unusual, Your Grace.”
“Oh, I disagree. I’m curious to see how Miss Bell emulates Arcimboldo. You wouldn’t deny me such a pleasure, would you?” He didn’t wait for Nora to answer. “I thought not.” Buxton turned Muriel’s stepmother in the opposite direction. “Allow me to seat you outside on the terrace in a spot that will give you a clear view of the greenhouse. Entirely made of glass. A true marvel. Savorton once told me the construction cost him a fortune. You can watch Miss Bell sketch me with a glass of lemonade in your hands.”
“But—”
Buxton took her hand and placed it on his arm. “Do not concern yourself further, Lady Allred.”
Nora, much like every other woman at the house party, was no match for Buxton’s charm. “Very well, Your Grace.” She sent Muriel a pointed look. “Nothing too…horrendous. You don’t wish to offend the duke.”
