Page 16 of Temptation and the Artist

Aline did not offer her hand, but at least the men moved away from Stephen to approach her side of the table and bow.

“My son,” she said distantly, while every nerve prickled in alarm to have such men so close to Basil.

“How kind of your highness to allow my boy to practice his drawing around you,” the father said indulgently.

“And, bless you, he needs the practice,” Clive said with scornful amusement. He tossed the book to Gordon who laughed and pushed it onto the table in front of Basil.

“You could make a much better job of drawing your mama, couldn’t you, my boy? Go on, try. And when you’re grown up, you can call out my talentless brother for the insult to your beautiful lady mother.”

Basil, bless him, closed the book and passed it to Aline, though his color had risen and he had that mulish, glittering look about him that had once preceded a tantrum. Clive, meanwhile, had returned to Stephen’s end of the table and now seized him with an arm around his throat while he scrubbed his knuckles brutally hard against his brother’s head.

“Pleased to see us, little brother?” he chortled. “Of course you are!”

To Aline’s distress and fury, Clive began to haul Stephen by the neck out of his chair, attracting attention from the other patrons and the waiting staff. “Come on, time to give the lady some peace. The little prince there will be a better escort fo—”

Before Aline could move to intervene—as she most surely meant to—Stephen’s chair somehow shoved hard into Clive’s middle. The arm at Stephen’s throat loosed, and with a sudden twist and clatter of movement, suddenly it was Clive who sat in the chair, blinking, an expression of ludicrous surprise on his face.

While Sir Oliphant and Gordon stared at Clive in astonishment, Aline quietly rose and, with Basil, walked around the other end of the table.

“I believe it turns insalubrious in the garden,” she drawled. “Your escort, Mr. Dornan?”

Stephen, whose wary gaze was divided between his family and the two burly waiters approaching from the kitchen area, turned at once, offering her his arm.

Chapter Five

As the three of them walked away without a backward glance, Aline passed Stephen Dornan his sketchbook, which he slipped into his pocket.

He said quietly, “I apologize, madam. My family’s clowning is tedious at the best of times. Before a lady and her son, it is unforgivable.”

“They weren’t clowning,” Aline said shortly. “They were belittling you in front of me. Or trying to.”

“I didn’t like them,” Basil pronounced, peering back over his shoulder. “I’m glad I don’t have brothers.”

“Not all brothers are as annoying as mine,” Stephen said.

“They’re placating the waiters,” Basil reported.

“Well, they won’t want to be thrown off the premises,” Stephen said. “At least, not yet.”

“Did you know they were here?” Aline asked.

“I knew my father was at the hotel. I received a note commanding me to tea.”

“Then this was punishment for not obeying?” she asked incredulously.

“No,” Stephen said thoughtfully. “That was a deliberate scene.”

“They seem an entirely different species to you.”

A flicker of a weary smile crossed his face. “In that, they would agree with you. Now you know why I avoid family. But at least the ices were good.”

“Better than Gunter’s!” Basil enthused. “The raspberry one was delicious, but I think the chocolate might be my favorite.”

“Mine, too,” Aline agreed, and for the rest of the walk back to the hotel, they discussed ices and jugglers and other fun things about the gardens. Stephen joined in, making ridiculous suggestions about other entertainments that could be introduced, including elephants to spray the guests in summer to keep them cool, and lions and tigers to chase the stilt people.

Basil laughed, and even Aline was smiling as they walked along the passage to her new rooms. A footman admitted them to her knock, and Basil began to explain to him and Ellen about the elephants.

Apparently assured of her safety, Stephen Dornan bowed, clearly about to take his leave.

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