Page 92 of Ironvine

“No, Charles, it is much more than that for me. It always has been. It gives me such pleasure and satisfaction both inwardly and physically. My father always encouraged me.”

“He recognised your talent, of course. He was known in artistic circles, was he not?”

“He was.” Her face brightened considerably. She loved her father and was proud of him. “He was not only a collector, but a patron, a go-between of sorts for artists and collectors. He enjoyed exhibitions and auctions and helped organize them, which is why he traveled so very much. He received his knighthood from His Majesty for the work he did on behalf of the Royal Collection. But most of all, he loved exploring and discovering new worlds, and the artwork that captured that richness that he saw.” She wiped her hands together and brushed her hair back from her face, leaving a smudge on her temple.

“After my father died, my mother stopped my lessons and commanded me to focus on needlepoint and music and dancing, so that I could prepare to attract the best suitors.” She met his gaze, licking her lip. “The best husband.”

“I should have asked to see samples of your needlepoint before signing that agreement with Holyfloke, eh?”

“If you and Hugh had seen my needlepoint, you would have not signed. Crooked, and sloppy, much, much worse than Brother Laurent’s illumination.” She laughed, an easy rolling laugh, and he laughed too.

He knew Georgina had attracted the best husband all on her own.

Charles walked about the many sketches on the floor—larger versions of what was in her small sketchbooks. “Is this room to your liking as a place to work?”

“It is beyond anything I have ever experienced before. I love this room.”

“That pleases me.”

She swallowed hard. He was sure she had become quite used to hiding her work and her enthusiasm for it. Had become accustomed to being told it was wrong and unseemly, and that a husband would certainly not approve and would certainly forbid it. Had she only known encouragement for her talent from her late father?

“Countess, I am quite happy that you have found a use for this conservatory that was built for purely pompous reasons once upon a time. You shall give this hollow symbol of prestige true purpose, and perhaps the little orangerie that has survived all these years will be happier for it and flourish.”

“I love the orange trees.”

“There’s a pomegranate tree too, I think. If you have specific ideas as to what you will require to make this a proper atelier for yourself, I shall hire a few men to fulfil those requirements.”

“Charles, are you sure?”

“Quite sure. Adamant, in fact.” The need to reassure her came over him. His hand reached out and cupped her face. “You have a talent that you should continue to develop as it makes you so very happy. I find it makes me happy to be able to help you in this endeavour.”

She placed her hand over his. Warm and soft. “I am so very grateful.”

His thumb stroked her lips, and she let out a small noise. “However, Lady Ryvves, you must make me a promise.”

“Anything.”

“You shall have no naked male models other than your husband.”

“Does this mean you will pose for me one day instead of my stealing your poses in your sleep?”

“Yes, you did steal, didn’t you, minx? I will have a price.”

“A price?”

“I find your intense scrutiny and study of my naked form very stirring, thus I will require satisfaction.”

“Oh?” A knowing grin fluttered over her lips, and he felt compelled by some force to touch her, kiss her, taste her, grip her flesh and he leaned in closer to her for a kiss. Something at his feet caught his eye, and he stilled. A small drawing, a likeness utterly familiar. Those eyes, that mouth curled in that thin way.

“What the devil?” Charles swooped up the paper and studied the drawing and the others at their feet. There wasn’t only one. There were tens of them.

“Why the devil are you drawing Hugh?”

ChapterForty

Georgina

“Why are you sketching my brother?”Charles’s features tightened. “Your memory of him is so acute that you are able to produce such an exact likeness?”

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