Page 2 of The Rake and the Muse
Her father nodded his approval. “I am glad to see you making friends, princess. You should find the season much more enjoyable without only your aunt to keep you company.”
The previous evening had already been much more fun with Eliza at her side. They avoided most of the gentlemen, and they talked and laughed the evening away. The pair had become fast friends, and Juliet couldn’t wait to learn more about her new friend and to entertain a guest for tea.
“I agree, Papa. You needn’t join us, though. I’m sure we would just bore you with all the lady-like talk.”
He laughed and patted her shoulder. “I shall make myself scarce. I hope you have an enjoyable time.” Her father kissed the top of her head and then started for his study.
Juliet adored her father. Since her mother had passed when she was a young girl, he was all she had. She just didn’t prefer him to linger around and listen to her conversations, especially the first time she’d have a friend come to call.
“My lady,” her butler said, “you have a caller. Lady Eliza is here to see you.”
“Thank you, White,” she replied. “Please show her in here and bring tea.”
He bowed and in a matter of moments, returned with Eliza.
“Juliet,” she said, coming right to her and bussing her cheeks. “I am so glad to see you.”
“Please, take a seat. Tea will be in shortly.”
Eliza took the seat in the chair right next to where Juliet sat on the settee.
When Eliza glanced up at the wall, Juliet followed her gaze to see the paintings that she fixed her gaze on. “Who painted those? They are quite beautiful.”
Juliet grinned and glanced at the paintings, pride radiating from her. “I did.”
“You painted those?” Eliza asked, impressed. “You are talented, indeed.”
A maid entered and rolled in the tea cart, interrupting their conversation. Once the maid departed, Juliet prepared them each a cup of tea.
Once they had their refreshments, Eliza stared at the paintings again. “Could you paint me?”
“I am certain I could,” Juliet said.
“Your paintings should be in a gallery,” Eliza said, her tone serious.
Juliet huffed. “I tried that, and the gallery wasn’t interested in art from a woman, especially one from beau monde.”
“How dare they!” Eliza exclaimed. Juliet couldn’t agree more. Just another reason she and Eliza got on so well.
“I hope to open my own gallery one day. A gallery that will accept all work, regardless of gender, race, or class.”
Eliza clasped her hands at her chest. “I love that! I shall be happy to help with your endeavor if I can. But I’m afraid I have no artistic abilities besides singing and the pianoforte.”
“Just having your support is enough,” Juliet said, beaming at her friend. “It shall be difficult to find others who will support the gallery, but I am determined.”
“I have no doubt you shall succeed, Juliet,” Eliza said, taking a sip of her tea. “You never told me why you were hiding in the bathroom last night.”
Juliet huffed. “There are gentlemen who can’t seem to keep their hands off certain places on my body.”
Eliza rolled her eyes. “Just like a man to do whatever he wishes, with no concern for anyone else.”
Juliet agreed, of course, but assumed her friend had different reasons for believing so.
Juliet contemplated Eliza’s reaction. “Why is it you don’t wish to wed?”
“I fancied myself in love once, and that was a farce,” Eliza replied. “I have no desire to go through that again.”
“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Juliet took a sip of her tea, awaiting the answer.
