Chapter One #3
For some strange reason, those words appeared to pique the man’s interest more than anything else and he stepped out of the hansom cab and walked towards her.
Instinctively, she took a step backwards, though not out of fear.
Simply shocked about his sudden concern for her pastime.
As he came to stand in front of her, Calliope stared up at a tall gentleman with wild eyes, an exquisitely tailored jacket and a propensity to luxury that he had evidently never bothered to deny.
‘You paint?’ he said curiously.
He was so tall. Calliope tried to lean back to get a better view, but any farther and she would surely fall. She tried not to think about how anyone passing them could see how close the gentleman was and would perhaps presume that Mr Donovan and she—
But they weren’t. She wouldn’t.
Would she?
‘I paint,’ she said hesitantly.
Mr Donovan’s smile was broad again, but it was commandingly charismatic, as though he had decided he was going to possess her and had just not taken ownership yet.
Calliope tried not to shiver in…anticipation. Young ladies did not step off the stagecoach in Brighton and find themselves in thrall to a handsome gentleman!
Except that today, for her, it appeared they did.
And she hated it. Absolutely.
Not a single part of her enjoyed it… Well… Maybe a single part. One, small, single part she was absolutely not going to admit to.
‘You know, I have always appreciated the…visual arts,’ Mr Donovan said slowly, his gaze raking past her décolletage and fixing on her lips for a moment before returning to her eyes. ‘I would be more than happy to assist in your artistic endeavours, Miss…?’
Oh, he was enjoying this. Riling her.
Calliope did not rise to the bait. Her pulse and temperature were rising enough for her. ‘No, thank you.’
‘I could model for you,’ continued Mr Donovan, as though she had not even spoken. ‘You might find you enjoy it. You could examine me for hours on end… I could even do it clothed, if you liked.’
His last few words were a whisper and Calliope thanked the heavens they were, for her cheeks were surely a brilliant crimson and her reticule had somehow fallen to the pavement.
The very idea! Mr Donovan, not wearing clothes, for that was surely what he was suggesting, was scandalous. It was outrageous. It was…
Tempting.
Calliope swallowed, her mouth somehow dry, and caught the look of triumph in the gentleman’s eyes.
No, she was not going to let him overcome her. She might not be from a noble family, nor a rich one, but she was not some chit to be overwhelmed by a few pretty words and a handsome face!
At least, she was almost sure she was not.
‘I thank you for your unwelcome offer, but I find myself easily able to decline it,’ she said as sweetly and as loudly as possible. A few gentlemen glanced over and stared but that was all to the good.
They were in public. It was time she and Mr Donovan remembered that.
‘Unwelcome offer?’ Mr Donovan did not appear abashed in any way. ‘Oh, of course I would not wish to offend, nor push myself into your acquaintance if unwanted. But if you do not mind me saying so, I think you’ll find you were quite tempted for a moment there, weren’t you?’
‘I—that is, no, of course not!’ Calliope turned away and cast her attention to her hansom cab. A hansom cab that had clearly grown weary of waiting for their argument to cease and accepted another fare.
It was gone.
Just about managing to prevent a curse from slipping through her lips, Calliope turned to the irritating man and said sweetly, ‘You know, perhaps you are right. Perhaps I would like to step off the street with a man I have just met and undress. If you would like to endear yourself to me, you can make yourself useful and secure a hansom cab for me. For us.’
‘For us? This very moment, dear lady,’ murmured Mr Donovan before he turned to the street. ‘Hie there!’
Calliope just about managed to prevent her eyes from rolling. Honestly. Men! They thought any woman could be charmed and impressed by a smile and a wink from a handsome man.
The fact she had been charmed was neither here nor there.
In a remarkably short amount of time, her trunk, packing cases and reticule were within a hansom cab, and Mr Donovan had genteelly handed Calliope into the interior.
His eyes darkened as desire, unashamed and unrestrained, pooled in his pupils. ‘Now what address shall I give the driver before I join you?’
Calliope smiled sweetly. ‘Mine, at least at first. We must keep up appearances. Clarendon Road.’
Mr Donovan’s eagerness to hasten from her side to speak to the driver was matched only by her delight that he had done so. It made slamming the door shut so much easier.
‘Go, driver, now!’ Calliope yelled.
The driver cracked his whip, the horses bolted, the carriage jolted forward and Mr Donovan was left on the pavement shouting after her in a most pleasing manner.
Breathing out a long sigh and wondering what else could possibly occur during her visit to Brighton, Calliope leaned back in the carriage with relief.
Well. That was the end of that.
Thank goodness she would never have to see that odious man again.