Page 36 of A Duke's Lustful Portrait
“It’s a wonderful place,” Priscilla crooned. “Arabella and I much prefer it to the countryside. Don’t we, Arabella?” She glared at Arabella, silently telling her to involve herself in the conversation.
Arabella looked up reluctantly. “I can’t say Ipreferit as such, but London does have an awful lot to offer, and if you are yet to experience it, you are in for a treat.”
His smile made her breath catch again, and she raised her hand to her neck to fiddle with the neckline of her gown.
“If ever you need advice or even a guide around London,” Priscilla said, “Arabella and I are always available.”
Arabella’s eyes widened. “Grandmother! I am quite certain His Grace has made alternative arrangements already.”
“Actually,” Sebastian said, his eyes once more boring into her. “I can’t say I have. I would be delighted to take you up on your offer, Your Grace.”
“Excellent!”
Priscilla bit into a sandwich, chewing daintily, but Arabella herself found she could not eat nor drink nor do anything but studiously avoid Sebastian’s gaze. He watched her over his teacup as he drank, and he watched her as he, too, took a sandwich.
“I am sure you are aware of my granddaughter’s talent,” Priscilla said eventually, breaking the tense silence.
“I …”
For the first time since she’d met him, Sebastian looked uncertain. She cracked a smile, pleased the effect was not merely on her.
“She is an artist of the first grade,” Priscilla said proudly.
“Yes, I had heard something of that,” Sebastian said, regaining his wits. He glanced at Arabella, and she smiled weakly at him.
But Priscilla’s face changed suddenly, her eyes darkened. “I don’t mean that nonsense her father has her do if that’s what you haveheardabout it.”
“Grandmother,” Arabella hissed, shocked at Priscilla’s forthrightness.
“I am talking about herrealart.”
He raised his eyebrows in question at Arabella. “Realart? Pray, do tell.”
Priscilla settled back in her chair with a satisfied smile, all her animosity suddenly gone. “Why don’t you take him to the gallery, Arabella dear?” she suggested. “I’m certain His Grace would like to see your work.”
“I would, very much so,” Sebastian replied eagerly.
“But … but Grandmother …”
Arabella felt the flutter of nerves in her chest. Could she really take him to the gallery? Alone in her father’s house? The idea at once thrilled and terrified her.
“I’ll be quite all right here, Arabella,” Priscilla said, her tone telling Arabella to obey. “And plenty of servants are around if you are worried about a chaperone. You know my old bones won’t carry me so far these days.”
Arabella led Sebastian to the grand hall where the gallery was, walking ahead of him and not daring to speak to him. Her whole body felt enveloped in heat, her desire swirling with her embarrassment and her fear.
It felt so disconcerting having the duke here, in her home. He was out of place, not where he belonged, and here, Arabella was an entirely different person. She didn’t know quite how to be with him nor how to act as they passed through the large hallways, her footsteps ringing heavily on the wooden floor as they went.
Finally, they reached the grand hall’s big double doors on the mansion’s first floor. Two footmen opened them for her without her asking, and they entered. As she strode in, she felt Sebastian at her back, having trotted to catch up to her. He was so close she could sense the shape of his body behind her, and her eyes darted around the room.
There were indeed maids and footmen around the place, maintaining the windows or dusting the frames. It didn’t seem to matter to Sebastian, though, and she felt her cheeks deepen in shade.
“Good afternoon, Arabella,” he whispered over her shoulder.
She frowned, turning a touch to glare at him but thinking better of it and shaking her head instead.
“As you can see, Your Grace,” she said, holding her arm out in demonstration and kicking up her pace a notch, “this is the gallery. To the left are old family portraits. To the right are … well, they aremypaintings.”
“I missed you,” he whispered, again catching up to her.
