Page 24 of Drawn to the Duke
And their encounter hadn’t only been based on lust and circumstance, even though Selina had at the time thrown herself into it from a purely physical sense as an excuse to justify why she was in Lord Chauncy’ room.
A slight wind stirred the papers on the desk and brought Selina back to the present.
Her ruminations should be on whether to leave the drawing in Lady Saunders’ possession, not whether the duke had felt anything deeper for Selina than raw, transient desire—which he surely would not have, she told herself.
With a sigh, Selina replaced the drawing that had been stolen. Far better to let Lady Saunders assume she’d got away with her theft.
But, after drawing one identical for herself, Selina would mark the original drawing in some way to make it clear that Lady Saunders had falsely acquired the likeness. Yes, that would give Selina some satisfaction.
Quickly, she worked at her art, the pencil racing over the page as she again considered how much easier it was to do the likeness having felt the man’s lovely contours in the flesh.
Her original drawing had been excellent, as had the one she’d whipped up by his bedside in her shaking, frenzied haste, but her new drawing brought to life something that had been missing. Some elusive quality in Lord Chauncy’s gaze. In her new drawing, Selina had caught a certain thoughtfulness, a depth of intelligence that her original drawing lacked. The second, she now decided, was far too influenced by the physical delights that had just taken place.
She held the two up to the light, side by side. Yes, the first was good, but this latest one was excellent.
Footsteps sounded in the passage, and she tilted her head, alert. It was too early for Lady Saunders and her husband to return in view of how recently they’d gone riding.
No doubt the voices were those of other guests or servants who would pass by in the corridor.
Her most important task, now, was to find a means of marking the drawing to distinguish it from the one she’d give to Lord Chauncy.
Or rather, that Edward would give to Lord Chauncy.
She frowned. Her drawing featured only his Grace’s face and clothing. There was very little room to add further details.
Selina bent her head closer to the work. Of course, she could manage it. She was the best artist in the country. In all the galleries she’d visited, she’d never seen work that surpassed her attention to detail.
Until now, this reflection had compensated for the fact that she was relegated to the country, denied the freedom to do as she would like.
But now she’d tasted freedom.
And enjoyed pleasure like she never had before.
Selina squinted. There was the high collar. Amongst the shading and shadows beneath his Grace’s neck, perhaps she could mark out in tiny lettering the words:Stolen by Lady Saunders.
Selina’s eyesight was exceptional. She knew it was better than most people’s and so was her ability to render the most minute details. In this case, without detection.
Smiling, as she bent to her work, she carefully drew in the words.
But perhaps the shadowing needed to be reflected on the other side of the collar. Perhaps it was an opportunity for Selina to claim her work. Not that anyone would know.
So, very carefully, she pencilled in: “Original artist: Selina Boothe.” She’d not take her husband’s name. And if any words could be deciphered, Boothe was, after all, the artist.
Not that it was likely anyone would seize up eyeglasses or magnifying glass to study the shadowed collar of the drawing,which was, as anyone could see, an excellent rendition of the man himself.
And it was stolen, besides. It would remain in Lady Saunders’ keeping, no doubt, for her to brandish to the marital hopeful she had lined up. For what other reason could she have for wanting to steal the portrait of the duke, supposedly done by Edward?
And which Edward would claim, no doubt, with little thanks, she thought resentfully.
But her satisfaction at claiming her own work—albeit in a way that was almost undecipherable—was quickly replaced by horror as she heard more voices approach, and then the sound of the doorknob being turned.
How had she been so careless? she berated herself as she dived for the only place she could hide, having hidden in a similar place not long before.
But before secreting herself beneath the four poster, its valance reaching the floor, she’d had the presence of mind to replace the drawing exactly where she’d found it, and to snatch up her new drawing.
Lady Saunders would not notice. And there’d be some satisfaction in hearing Lady Saunders crow over her supposed cleverness in acquiring a drawing she had no right to have. Selina might even hear what her intention had been in taking it.
“Help me with the back of my habit, Saunders. I told Jenny I didn’t need assistance.”
