Page 19 of A Duke's Lustful Portrait
“Tell me, are there any who take your fancy?”
He watched Sebastian intently. Sebastian’s eyes were drawn to Lady Arabella, her focus wholly on her painting. He hadn’t meant to look in her direction, hadn’t wanted to, but it was as if he could no longer control himself. As she concentrated, her tongue stuck out of the side of her mouth, pink, bright, and moist. Good Lord, she was beautiful when she focused.
Pembry laughed again, the sound snapping Sebastian out of his dreams. “When I saidanyof them, there was, of course, one exception.”
Sebastian felt a flame within his face, but he feigned confusion as he turned to Pembry. “Oh?”
Pembry snorted. “Everyone—and I mean everyone—desires Lady Arabella Sinclair, Ravenswood. You are not the first, and neither will you be the last. But alas, she is off limits.”
“Whatever makes you think I desire her?” he asked. He noted the high tone of his voice and cursed himself for so easily giving himself away.
“It is as obvious as your presence here,” Pembry said. “As I said, we’ve all been there, and I’m sure we’ve all imagined it if you catch my drift. But she is different from the other women here. She is a lady, and her father is extremely protective. He rather likes to keep her the virginal little painter for the lords’ pleasure.”
Virginal. That only served to make him want her more. Her innocence had not been destroyed nor even touched by the sordid surroundings her father put her in. It showed more of her strength of character than any sort of protection from her father.
“And, pray tell, how does he protect her?”
He stared at her, unable to stop himself. Just watching her, he felt himself stir, the rate of his heart kicking up a notch. Being in the same room as her, he could feel every part of his body as if it were fresh, sensing every nerve ending. The way the fabric of his shirt brushed across his chest made him shiver, imagining it was Lady Arabella’s hair.
Pembry snorted again, and Sebastian found himself increasingly irritated at the man.
“I wouldn’t know exactly, but I do know I wouldn’t want to find out. His wrath has something of a reputation when it comes to protecting his daughter.”
Protecting his daughterwas not how Sebastian saw it. He was protecting his investment in her as a painter, a sideshow for his events. Did he love her also? Sebastian couldn’t be sure, but he was determined to find out. He would get close to her, he decided then. Perhaps, if he did, he would rid himself of the newfound obsession within him, and in the meantime, he could discover the best way to get closer to her father.
“I heard she paints portraits. Is that true?” He looked at Pembry curiously. Pembry smiled knowingly, and Sebastian wondered what sort of paintings she had done for him.
“It is indeed true. She is a master at the human form. You’d be amazed at what she can do with those hands, Ravenswood. I envy the lucky man who will eventually be permitted to marry her.”
As do I.
“I’m rather interested,” he said. “Do you think she would paint my portrait?”
Pembry nodded. “She paints portraits of all the new members, but if you’re looking for something … extra, then you need to speak to Sinclair.”
He looked back at her, his breath halting. “Then I shall speak to him at my earliest opportunity.”
Chapter 10
The night had worn on, and Edward Sinclair looked out across the ballroom from the mezzanine that swept the length of the room, swelling with pride and power. Earl Pembry’s parties were always the most debauched; he had quite the reputation for it within the Lord’s Society. But Edward thought of these people ashisgroup and was pleased with what he had achieved.
Now, long after the sun had gone down and a handful of lanterns had been lit around the room, gentlemen had paired up with women, and corners were filled with lustful scenes. Edward let out a guttural laugh as he watched.Thiswas why he had set up the society, or at least one of the reasons.
For the satisfaction of men in a way that thetonand their arbitrary rules could not provide. The other was the power it gave him. He owned these people and had control over them now that he had knowledge of their deepest, darkest secrets.
He glanced over at Arabella and smiled. She really was the most beautiful thing in the world, radiant in her innocence. He planned on keeping her that way, no matter what it took.
She was too valuable to him by far. Once upon a time, she had been a mere inconvenience, and he’d planned to have her married off at the earliest opportunity. But when he’d discovered her talent, he knew he would never be able to let her go. She was now as much part of the Lord’s Society as he was, albeit with significantly less power.
She studiously avoided the lechery of the ballroom corners, choosing instead to paint those playing cards, throwing them down on the table with fury when they lost. Edward smiled. Even after all the lewd paintings he’d had her do, she still preferred to paint a gentler scene. That sweetness made her so good at what she did; he was certain of it.
“It’s going well, isn’t it?” Pembry said, stepping up to the railing beside Edward.
“You certainly know how to throw a ball, Pembry, and no mistake.”
Pembry sighed with satisfaction and leaned heavily on the wrought iron. It was dark and quiet up on the mezzanine, a step away from the rest of the party, and the two gentlemen stood watching in silence for a long moment. Edward trusted the earl completely.
The pair had been through a lot since they founded the society, both having committed acts other people would be ashamed of. Not them, though. No, they relished their freedoms and the fact that they had secrets from the rest of the world.
