Chapter 6 #2
Both parties jumped guiltily, as they had not heard his approach.
The young woman turned around, her candid green eyes gazing at him with interest. Heavens, she was a plain little dab of a thing, yet those surprisingly intriguing eyes brimmed with intelligence, and he had the strangest notion that she was summing him up quite nicely as she darted a quick glance before lowering her gaze.
“Make the introductions, if you please, Howard,” he demanded.
Howard dithered for a moment, looking uneasy, and Justin quirked an eyebrow at him. “My, my, Howard. I am not that disreputable, surely?”
Howard blanched. “No! No, indeed. My Lord Sheringham, I have the pleasure to present Miss Clara Halfpenny. Miss Halfpenny, the Earl of Sheringham.”
Justin gave her a lazy smile as she met his gaze once more. “But all my friends call me Sherry, and I offer you the liberty, as I am certain we shall be fast friends. Shall we go in?”
He held out his arm to her, wondering what she would do.
She didn’t move. “Your certainty is misplaced, I’m sure,” she said, her expression one of mingled curiosity and suspicion. Oh, she was not a silly creature at all. “And I have not yet decided—”
“Yes, Miss Halfpenny, you have, else you would not be here. You are just waiting for someone to give you a little push.” He grinned at her. “You are welcome.”
For a moment she looked rather vexed, and then she laughed.
To his surprise, Justin felt rather pleased with himself.
“I know, and this is why poor Howard looked so appalled at my forcing an introduction. Take heart, however, Miss Halfpenny, I am not in the least tender hearted and if you wish to call me a despicable villain or box my ears, I will take it in stride without the slightest offence.”
She stared at him, amused now, though still wary. “Is that so? I may hold you to that, my lord.”
“I beg that you will. Now then. Are you ready to face your public, or do you need a little glass of something to fortify your spirits? I shall not object.”
She drew in a breath, and he proffered his arm a little more insistently.
“I am ready.”
“Excellent. I knew at first glance that you were a courageous young woman.”
She made a little snorting noise, which made him smile. “You thought nothing of the sort. I suspect it ran more along the lines of ‘my what an unprepossessing creature she is, I believe I shall have a little fun tormenting her.’”
He put a hand to his heart and winced. “Miss Halfpenny, you wound me. You make me sound like a hungry cat toying with a mouse.”
“If the cap fits, my lord,” she said with a shrug, and then paled as he escorted her into the parlour, which was crammed full of people. “Oh, my,” she said faintly, her steps suddenly dragging.
Justin regarded her with concern. “Now, now, little mouse. Don’t scurry under the skirting just yet. Take a deep breath. Put your chin up. Yes, that’s the way.”
She walked with him to the edge of the room, and he knew she used his body as a shield to hide behind but did not call her out.
Miss Foxworthy, looking ravishing in a gown of celestial blue, moved before the canvas and darted a relieved glance at Miss Halfpenny before addressing the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my lords, your graces, I thank you for giving me this splendid opportunity to show my work. As I believe you know, I have been working for some months on a portrait of a dear friend of mine, Miss Clara Halfpenny—”
Justin murmured a word of assurance as she tried to sink farther into the shadows.
“—that work is now complete, and so, I give you. Miss Clara Halfpenny.”
Miss Foxworthy tugged at the silk, which slid away with a soft shushing sound, and the room fell entirely silent.
Justin was aware of Miss Halfpenny breathing hard beside him, but he could find no other words of reassurance, for the painting had captured his attention.
It was quite… quite exquisite. Startling, actually.
He could not quite put his finger on what it was, except that perhaps there were no apologies made.
The sitter viewed those who might stand in judgement of her, whether they be the highest in society or the lowliest, and she met their gaze frankly.
‘Make what you will of me,’ the portrait and the sitter both seemed to say, ‘I’m here to stay. ’
The silence rang out for the longest time, and then Justin heard clapping. It seemed to catch like a fire taking hold, and soon the entire room rang with the sound of applause.
“I… I need….”
Justin turned as Miss Halfpenny released his arm and fled.
“Miss Halfpenny,” he called, and hurried after her.
“It’s remarkable,” Celia said, gazing at the portrait in wonder. “My mind believes I could reach out and stroke the little dog and feel the fabric of her gown under my hand. I do not believe I have ever seen its equal.”
Damian nodded, strangely touched by the portrait.
One grew so used to seeing society beauties dressed in lavish silks and wearing jewels, advertising their wares and their power, and this…
this was quite different. It was almost stark in its simplicity, yet the richness of the painting that captured the worn cotton, the fine quality of Miss Halfpenny’s skin, was enchanting.
“Perhaps I shall ask her to paint you. Would you like that as a betrothal gift?”
“Heavens, no,” Celia replied frankly. “One wonders what Miss Foxworthy may reveal. Besides, I am not so vain as to wish for such a thing for myself. However, if you wished it, I should not object.”
She shot him a look tinged with challenge, which he ignored, preferring instead to tease her. “Celia, my dear, precisely how many dark secrets do you have to uncover?”
She pursed her lips and met his gaze. “You’ll never know,” she replied with a provoking little smile.
He wanted to laugh, wanted to tell her he would discover everything. The thought was dangerously appealing.
He reminded himself they could not have a marriage in anything other than name. No children. For he could not risk coming home one day and discovering—
His gut twisted, an unwelcome memory bursting to life.
Blood. So much blood, and poor Gideon—
No.
“Well, shall we take refreshments? I believe there is champagne. I’m gasping,” he said quickly, forcing himself to think about the here and now.
The trick was to keep his mind busy, or at worst, drunk.
So long as the wretched thing was occupied, he did not have to think about anything he did not wish to.