Page 22 of The Truth about the Viscount
“But you have been,” Lord Milthorpe pointed out, with a heavy sigh that told Daniel of his exasperation. “Besides which, I do not understand why you should care. Have you not only just finished informing me that you care nothing about society? That you want to step back from it?”
“I do not want to be mocked,” Daniel answered, spinning on his heel and then looking Lord Milthorpe directly in the eye. “Do you not understand? This is precisely what I have been speaking of! Why am I the focus of this artist, whoever it is? There must be a purpose behind it. It cannot be merely that it has been done out of some vague artistic interest.”
“My Lord.”
The footman returned just as Daniel finished speaking and, after snatching the newspaper from the man’s hand, Daniel made his way to a quieter part of the hallway, Lord Milthorpe hurrying after him. His heart was beginning to pound as he turned one page and then the next, only then to pause.
There.
The drawing was of him, just as he had suspected. He was standing with his back to the wall of a room, a heaviness in his frame and his head a little bowed, though his eyes were sharp, fixed on something ahead of him. Daniel blinked, trying to think of when he might have been seen in such a stance, only for his gaze to travel to the few short sentences below the drawing.
‘There can be little doubt in the mind of the reader as to who this gentleman is! We have all noticed the darkness of his demeanor of late, the way he has shrunk back from all of us. What is all the more surprising is that this has come in the wake of his sister’s joyous betrothal! Could it be jealousy that has driven the Viscount into the shadows? Or is there something else that troubles him?’
Daniel read the lines four times in a row before letting out a long, slow breath, fighting against the cresting anger that rose within him. This artist, whoever it was, had not only captured his visage, but also thought to write about his character! As a result, there would soon be whispers and rumors spreading around London about him, all the more! Closing his eyes, his jaw set tight, Daniel heard the newspaper crumple in his fist, his fury soon overwhelming him.
“Might I?”
Struggling to release the newspaper, Daniel finally opened his eyes, exhaled, and then offered it to Lord Milthorpe. He watched as his friend read the lines and then frowned before, much to Daniel’s irritation, he shrugged as though there was very little here to concern him.
“You have seen it now, yes?” Lord Milthorpe set The London Chronicle aside. “Might we now return to the ball? Your sister is with your mother at present, but I am very soon to dance with her, and I do not want to be tardy.”
Throwing up his hands, Daniel glared at his friend.
“How can you say such a thing? How can you show so little concern?”
Lord Milthorpe’s eyebrows lifted.
“I beg your pardon?”
“This artist, whoever it is, has chosen to write about me in a manner which is not only unfair but entirely improper.”
Lord Milthorpe shrugged.
“It is only a few remarks and, quite frankly, none of them are untrue.”
“But they ought not to be speaking about me for even a moment!” Daniel exclaimed, suddenly mortified. “I do not want thetonto say even a single thing about me!”
“I am afraid that you cannot control that, as well you know.” Lord Milthorpe sniffed and then turned away. “Now, I am going to find Isabella. What is it that you wish to do, Hastings?”
Daniel glared down at the drawing as though, somehow, it was responsible for his present state of upset.
“I shall find the artist,” he grated, his anger growing steadily. “And I shall demand to know what their intention was in not only drawing me but in writing such things about me.” His expression still tight, he looked up again at Lord Milthorpe. “Thatis what I intend to do, Milthorpe. And I intend do to it now.”
Chapter Eight
“Ithank you, Lord Victorson.” Patience smiled and then took back her dance card. “I look forward to stepping out with you.”
The gentleman smiled, nodded, and then stepped away, leaving Patience to look after him, her lips lifting into a gentle smile. Lord Victorson was one of many gentlemen seeking to dance with her at this ball and Patience was rather pleased that she had done so well.
“And just how many dances do you have remaining?”
Patience chuckled as Christina took her dance card from her.
“I have only one dance remaining and it is the waltz.”
“And no one has thought to take that from you as yet?” Christina’s eyebrows lifted. “I would have thought, given the amount of interest in you at present, you might have had many gentlemen eager to take the waltz from you.”
“Alas, they have not.” Patience smiled as she took the dance card back from her sister. “But I do not know what it is that has made so many of them come to seek me out! It is most unusual, I confess.”
