A Scandalous Proposal. Julia Justiss

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СКАЧАТЬ book, pausing to study several sketches of the ladies familiar to him. He had to marvel both at how well she had captured their images and at how skillfully each bonnet she’d designed emphasized their best features.

      Then he reached the last page and froze.

      Emily had caught the sitter at a pensive moment, one hand to her chin as she gazed into the distance. The pale ivory of her hair, the turquoise of her eyes and the wistful, half-smiling expression were so vividly rendered he felt as if his mama might at any moment speak to him from out of the sketchbook.

      “This is extraordinary!” he burst out. “Please, I must have it. May I buy it from you?”

      She glanced over, her hand with the needle momentarily stilling. “The sketch of Lady Cheverley? Take it, if you like. That bonnet is already finished.”

      “I must pay you for it.”

      “Nonsense, ’tis only a pastel. Besides, you’ve already expended far too much for me. If the likeness pleases you, I should be honored for you to have it as a gift.”

      He hesitated, about to argue the point, but the oblique reference to her indebtedness and the slight lift of her chin alerted him that her pride was at issue.

      Give in gracefully, he decided. He could repay her in ways she’d not discover—through Francesca, who, unlike her mistress, seemed cheerfully willing to accept his largesse.

      “Thank you, then.” He took a knife from the worktable and carefully cut free the sketch. That task accomplished, he looked back to see her hunched over the bonnet, peering at the dark velvet in the rapidly fading twilight.

      “Emily, stop. You can’t possibly see black thread against black velvet any longer.”

      ‘A few more stitches, and ’twill be finished.” While he watched in exasperation, she stubbornly bent closer, her nose nearly buried in the bonnet as she attached a final ribbon. At last she knotted off her thread.

      “Enough,” he said, and put his hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her from the worktable. But at the feel of her flesh under his fingers, he found all his banked passion surging back. He shuddered and went still, resisting the sudden, sharp longing to enfold her against him.

      She’d gone motionless as well, and he could feel her muscles tense under his hands. Without thinking, he began to massage her stiff shoulders.

      “Ahh,” she sighed. “That feels lovely.”

      “No wonder your shoulders ache, standing in front of that worktable all day,” he chided, extending the massage to her neck and upper arms.

      “You scold just like Francesca,” she said with a giggle. ’Twas so infectious a sound, he found himself laughing, too. She rotated to face him. He looked down into those wide pansy eyes and caught his breath yet again.

      Slowly her smile faded. When, helpless, compelled, he lowered her mouth, she raised on tiptoes to meet his kiss.

      He kissed her long and longingly, battling the immediate urge to slide his hands to the tempting, tilt-tipped breasts brushing his chest. At last he reluctantly released her. “I’ve been waiting a century for that.”

      Her charming bubble of a laugh sounded again. “Indeed? ’Twas nearly six when you left this morning.”

      “Couldn’t have been. It seems an eternity.”

      She lifted her gaze to his, her velvet eyes holding the slightly startled look of a wild thing disturbed. Then, to his surprise and utter delight, she closed them again and leaned back into his embrace.

      

      “Another glass of wine, my lord?”

      Emily had poured half the glass when the hot dish Francesca was carrying in caught her attention. Her eyes narrowing, she gave the maid a sharp look.

      “Paella? How delightful,” Evan said.

      “’Tis Madame’s favorite,” Francesca confirmed, ignoring Emily’s pointed stare. “Also the beef with rosemary, potatoes and minted peas, and the fine rioja.”

      “Francesca, I’ll want a word with you later.”

      “Aye, mistress.” With a curtsey and a saucy wink at Evan, the maid withdrew.

      “You mustn’t scold her,” Evan said. “I asked her to fix your favorites this evening.”

      “You gave her money,” Emily said flatly.

      “Of course. I would rather dine with you than anywhere else in London, but I can hardly expect you to regularly feed one large, overgrown male.”

      “If you are my guest, I can provide for you. Perhaps not paella, rare beef and the finest of riojas.”

      “Please, Emily, don’t pull caps with me. You do a wonderful job providing for your household. Your company gives me such—” he caught himself before uttering the word joy “—enjoyment, I wanted to do a little something to express it.”

      “A little something?” she echoed, exasperation in her tone. “My lord, you’ve already chased away an abusive villain and saved me from being blackmailed a tidy sum monthly for the indefinite future. I think that’s quite enough.”

      “Do you place limits on the gifts you give a friend?”

      Lips open as if to pursue her argument, she paused. “No, I suppose not,” she admitted after a moment. “Unless necessity compels it.”

      “Then will you not permit me the same luxury? Please. You have worked diligently for so long. How can it be wrong for a friend to indulge you?”

      Seeing that wary look coming back in her eyes, he changed tack. “As for work, I’m impressed by the exceptional quality of your sketches. Did you not say you’d painted portraits while in Spain? Why did you choose not to continue painting here?”

      She took a sip of wine. For a moment, he thought she’d ignore the question. Finally, looking away from him, she said softly, “’Twas different in Spain, among strangers. My father was a—a wealthy man. He sent me to an exclusive school. Some of those who would commission portraits here might be his colleagues or acquaintances. Or former classmates of my own.”

      She didn’t need to say more. All at once he had a searing vision of what her life must have been. Cast out of the privileged world of bourgeois wealth because of her runaway marriage, unacknowledged by her husband’s apparently aristocratic family, upon that soldier’s death far from friendly lines, she’d found herself utterly alone in a foreign land with nothing but her talent and wits between herself and starvation.

      For an individual who had vanquished the dangers she must have faced to return and work as a servant for those who were once her equals would have been intolerable. Small wonder she’d chosen, despite her undeniable talent, to abandon portraiture.

      That she had managed to amass enough capital to return to England and begin a business was nothing short of astounding. Stirred initially by her beauty, he found himself even more fascinated by the resourceful, courageous character beneath.

      “Will СКАЧАТЬ