Page 32 of The Dreaming Beauty
“I’m flattered.” Mr. Taylor gave a short laugh.
“Don’t listen to him,” His Grace said. “My brother cannot be idle for a single moment. He cannot bear it. But we artists need time to soak up our emotions—our moods—or we cannot create. You understand, don’t you?”
She wasn’t a proper artist, so how would she know? Could one argue with a duke? It did not seem wise. She nodded once so as not to risk being contradictory.
“Good. Then, you must come since we have so much in common. I insist upon tomorrow.”
Iris answered for her. “I am not certain our schedule permits.”
There was something off about Iris’s posture. She leaned forward in her seat, her hands gripping the arms, and her eyes narrowed at His Grace.
Oh dear. How could Tansy think Iris was over her fear and hatred toward men? Just because they had all lowered their guard for Mr. Taylor did not mean those feelings applied to the duke as well.
“I am sure we could rearrange a few things,” Aster said, eyeing her sister.
Tansy’s shoulders drooped as she waited for the scene to develop.
Mr. Taylor cleared his throat. “The decision does not need to be made this minute. You can think it over and have Thomas send a note with your plans.”
Once again, Mr. Taylor’s amiability had prevented an argument.
Just then tea arrived as a much-needed respite. Thank heavens no further mention of an art lesson was brought up as they sipped their refreshment.
Tansy caught Mr. Taylor’s eye unintentionally. The side of his mouth lifted in an apologetic gesture. She returned it with a little smile of her own. The silent communication sent a warmth through her, helping her relax as she had not done since she’d arrived. They had had a few adventures since meeting each other—her nighttime visit, his constant stream of services, and his sincere interactions with her aunts—but she had a feeling that the handsome duke’s presence would change the dynamic of her new friendship with Mr. Taylor. Even so, she would convince her aunts to let her do the art lesson. His Grace seemed set on it, and she would not offend him. She would be ill at ease, but after all Mr. Taylor had done for them, couldn’t she do this for his brother?
Chapter 14
Later that afternoon, Marcus heldthe note from Thomas informing him about Tansy returning on the morrow for her painting lesson. He responded with a time for the lesson in the morning and sent Thomas on his way. He folded the paper and moved toward the library, wondering what about the arrangement bothered him. His mother would not agree with it, but Simon was an adult and capable of organizing his own schedule. No, what bothered Marcus was not his mother’s opinion but a desire to protect Tansy and encourage Simon to take back his responsibilities.
He pulled out the chair to his desk, an old oak relic pushed back against the far window, and slipped into his seat. It was probable that Marcus was overthinking things, but even so, he would make a concerted effort to be nearby for this and any other art lesson. And if a courtship arose between Simon and Tansy, there was no doubt his mother would squash such a relationship as soon as she returned.
Marcus flipped open one of his journals and laughed at himself. A relationship? One conversation and he was jumping to conclusions. He was a logical thinker—an observer, really—but never a romantic theorist.
“What could you possibly find humorous in those boring books?” Simon asked, striding into the room. “And who was at the door?”
“Nothing humorous here, and it was Thomas, the manservant from Rose Cottage. Miss Tansy has agreed to a lesson. I told her ten o’clock.”
“Fantastic,” Simon said, dropping into a chair to the side of Marcus’s desk. “But you should have said five in the morning so we might paint the sunrise.”
Marcus’s brow rose. “I can see her aunts loving that idea.”
“And why wouldn’t they? I’d wager they would be happy to throw their niece into the path of a duke. They must be dying to get her out of that haunted, dilapidated cottage.”
Marcus said nothing, knowing Simon was hoping for a reaction. Instead, he picked up his pen to scratch a few notes, his free hand going to his hair, twisting his fingers around a curl at his neck.
Simon’s patience lasted less than a second. “You never said anything about Miss Tansy’s beauty when you spoke of your new acquaintances. What do you know about her?”
“I am not your matchmaker. You will have to ask her yourself.”
“Don’t be pettish. If you have already made a claim upon her, I will leave her be.”
Marcus laughed softly and shook his head. “I am impressed by your offer, but I know you. You would not be able to resist.”
“You do know me, but as I am your older brother, you cannot believe I would put a woman before you.”
Marcus dropped his pen and angled his body toward Simon, slinging his arm across the back of his own chair. “When have you known me to make a claim on any woman? Neither of us could say how you would react.”
Simon pinched his lips together, mulling over his thoughts before he reached some sort of conclusion. “You know, I cannot recall you ever chasing after a lady before. But I do believe I could step aside for you.”
