Page 14 of A Duke's Lustful Portrait
“The Duke of Westment?” Fitzwilliam frowned. “I’m not convinced he’s the type of manI’dwant to be friends with.”
Sebastian looked up, interested in his friend’s opinion. “Really? Why not?”
Fitzwilliam looked at him over the top of the cards and pulled a face. “He has something of a reputation,” he said. “I don’t know what for, but I know many people fear him. Be careful there, Ravenswood. I wouldn’t want to be in the shoes of any man who crosses Westment.”
Interesting.
It seemed Sebastian was not the only one to recognize Sinclair for the monster he was. He wondered how many other women—or indeed men—had died at Sinclair’s hands or his command. Surely, his mother couldn’t be the only one.
He sighed, allowing his thoughts to flutter to the past, something he often tried to stop. His mother had been such a kind-hearted woman. They’d struggled when he was young and had troubles that he cared not to think of anymore, but she’d always been there for him, no matter what.
The worst part of her murder was that Sebastian had no ideawhySinclair had done it. That was another reason his revenge could wait until the right moment. He wanted to know the truth, and he wanted to hear it from Sinclair himself.
“His daughter is rather a dish, though, isn’t she?” Fitzwilliam said, and Sebastian’s attention reared. He felt strangely as if Lady Arabella werehisand that Fitzwilliam had no right to comment. Fitzwilliam still looked at his cards, not noticing Sebastian’s reaction. “I mean, we don’t get to see her very often. Westment keeps her locked away, or so they say. But when she does come out … Good Lord, she’s the belle of every ball!”
“That she is,” Sebastian muttered in reply. “Are you going to play or not?”
Fitzwilliam looked up at him in surprise. “All right! No need to snap.” He placed his card. “Thirty-one for two. We’re level-pegging now! I take it from your reaction that you’ve met the lady?”
Oh, he’d met her all right. He hadn’t stopped thinking of her since. Those eyes, even through her mask, haunted his dreams. The shape of her chin, the plumpness of her lips … the images swirled in his mind, even as he thought of other matters.
No matter what he did, he couldn’t get rid of them. He’d imagined her more than once, leaning over him until her silky black hair fell around his face. He’d thought of kissing her, caressing her, taking her as his own.
“I met her briefly, yes,” he said as he counted up his remaining cards and threw them into the pile. “Can’t say I noticed this outstanding beauty you mention, though.”
Fitzwilliam snorted again. “Of course not. Though, if you notice, I didn’t say she wasoutstanding. That word came from your mouth alone.”
Sebastian laughed at his own mistake, shaking his head. Lady Arabella was the only prick in his plan. He had intended to get close to Sinclair and learn how best to ruin his life, but now he had met the beautiful painter and could not get her out of his head.
I wonder if I could use her somehow.
“Deal the cards again,” Sebastian said in a mock stern tone. “And tell me about this Lady Sarah I hear you’re so interested in.”
Fitzwilliam laughed, dealing the cards as asked, and he began to whitter on about the lady he had become embroiled with. He was so keen to talk about her that it gave Sebastian time to think.
Sinclair gave a good show of loving his daughter, protecting her from probing men eager to talk to her, but he equally put her in such a sordid position, asking her—maybe even forcing her—to paint sensual scenes and the degenerate events of the Lord’s Society. Did he really care for her, or did he only care for her talent? Sebastian couldn’t decide.
If only I could rescue her.
The thought shocked him so much that he started, and Fitzwilliam noticed. “I know, shocking isn’t it?” he said. Sebastian had no idea what he was talking about.
“Absolutely,” he replied. “I can’t believe it.”
Fitzwilliam sighed. “So her father is going to speak to him for me. I wonder …”
Sebastian tuned out again, and he realized that he had an urge to protect Lady Arabella, to rescue her from a life that evidently made her unhappy. There was undeniably something between them, some attraction that drew him to her. He couldn’t explain it—had never experienced it before, but he felt an inextricable pull towards her.
I cannot let it get in my way, though.
“So, the long and short of it is that I am considering proposing. By the way, I played my eight an age ago. What are you going for?”
Sebastian’s attention was yanked back to the room. “And four makes twelve,” he said.
He placed his card, but his eyes had not left Fitzwilliam’s face, his mouth hanging open. “Propose? Good Lord, man, I didn’t realize you werethatserious about her.”
Fitzwilliam frowned. “It’s almost like you haven’t listened to a word I’ve been saying, Ravenswood.”
Sebastian sighed. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said. “I admit I have been a little lost to the storm in my head.”
