Page 3 of Passion and Deception

Ramit’s eyes dared to glance over her figure, then pulled his gaze back up, relieved that the woman hadn’t noticed his perusal. “Women are vitally important.”

She looked at him, tilting her head back and he couldn’t help but notice the elegant line of her neck. “I agree. Why should the painter add women into a scene that is meant to showcase the men who were meant to protect the city?”

She smiled gently at him, and Ramit immediately knew that he was missing something significant.

“Care to enlighten me,” he asked, amused now. And charmed! She really was adorable, but…sexy. No, he’d use the word sensual to describe this woman. Plus, he loved her freckles. Especially that one right on the edge of her lip.

“Now that women are entering more research fields, such as archaeology,” she began, “women are reinterpreting clues from our past. It’s becoming apparent that women were more than just the gatherers and attendants to the children that we’ve been told to believe. Viewing the same clues through a different lens, historians are discovering that women were just as likely to go out on the hunts and into battle.” She gestured towards the painting. “The idea that women didn’t help protect the towns, that they weren’t part of a war is merely one man’s interpretation of history. Even if men fought right alongside a woman, he would never admit that women were part of that effort.” She shrugged. “Women were dismissed as being the protectees. In men’s minds, women and children were the reason men went into battle. Men enjoy preserving the perception that they were bravely fighting to protect their wives and children.”

The stranger’s eyes narrowed as he absorbed her words. “Weren’t there significantly more men in battle?”

“We don’t know,” she replied and moved to the next picture. “Take this image, for instance. What do you see?”

Maggie watched as the man looked at the image. She felt a burst of…something unexpected…when she realized that he was honestly trying to look at the image from her perspective.

“I see a man teaching a group of men. And a woman standing behind him holding a child.”

“Exactly.” She lifted her eyebrows and gave him a hopeful look. “And that’s significant because…?”

Ramit contemplated the image again, ignoring the use of color as symbolism as well as the intricate folds on each man’s clothing. Instead, he examined the painting in an effort to try to interpret the story being told by the images, trying to understand what the lovely woman was trying to teach him. But…? He didn’t understand. What should he see? What hidden message was he missing?

Ramit pointed to the middle of the painting. “There!” he replied with excitement. “There’s a woman in front of the man.”

The pretty woman smiled, nodding her head, however, Ramit suspected that he was still missing the point. “And what is she looking at?”

He peered the image. “Something off in the distance.”

She grinned. “And what are the men looking at?”

Her question warned him that he was still missing something significant. Ramit sighed in defeat, shaking his head, and looked down at her, enjoying the hope and excitement sparkling in those lovely brown eyes. “At the teacher.”

She laughed and the sound was sweet, pulling his focus away from the painting. “You’re saying that this is another example of sexism in the art world?”

“I am,” she replied, then waited.

Ramit sifted through her previous explanation as he examined the images once again. “Because it’s another example of how Rembrandt portrayed women as secondary and lesser.”

She nodded, gesturing to the woman looking away. “He portrayed women as not interested in education.” She sighed and turned to look at the painting…and he looked at her. “Honestly, I can appreciate the brilliance of the painting. I love the use of light and color. Plus, the detail that Rembrandt put into his paintings is…astounding.”

“But you don’t like the way he portrayed women.” It was a statement, not a question.

She nodded. “Every man who views these paintings is treated to more propaganda that women are ‘less than’. That we can be dismissed as fluttery, pretty things.” She shrugged. “Believe it or not, that is sometimes very useful.”

“In what way?”

She moved on and Ramit followed, intrigued. He tried to fight against his male bias, but he was fully aware that he thought of women as nothing more than sexual partners most of the time.

She leaned forward, a twinkle in her eyes. “Look at the dog in the crowd. Even the canine is more fully formed and interested in the lessons than Rembrandt’s women.”

Startled, Ramit turned back to the painting and…realized that she was correct! The dog was perched at the feet of the teacher, appearing to listen intently to the lesson. He tore his eyes away from the art to look down at her. “You’re right. And I never noticed that aspect of his paintings before.” He smiled at her. “I’m Ramit,” he told her, extending his hand.

“Maggie,” she replied, her smile brightening to the point that he was stunned for a full moment. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ramit.”

He shifted, facing her fully now. “Would you mind continuing with your lessons? I’ve never looked at art through a woman’s eyes before. I very much appreciate your perspective.” And her company, he thought.

She tilted her head and he was once again aware of the appealing line of her neck. He wasn’t sure why her neck so fascinated him. Usually, he noticed a woman’s breasts before anything else. And yet, with Maggie…and the name suited her…he hadn’t even glanced at her breasts.

Of course, that thought forced his gaze downwards. But he pulled them right back to her pretty, brown eyes after noting that she did, in fact, have very nice breasts. A little more than a handful, he mentally calculated. And he had very large hands!

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