Page 26 of Temptation and the Artist

His gaze dropped to her lips as she spoke and grew fixed. She wondered if he wanted to kiss her again, and then he returned to the painting, so presumably he had merely spotted some flaw in his work. She drank her coffee mostly in companionable silence, with only the odd conversational overture.

Once, she asked, “What do you want me to wear for tonight’s painting?”

“Something diaphanous,” he replied without thinking. “If you have nothing like that with you, anything will do…” He stepped back, examining what he had done, then set down the brush, covered the canvas, and moved to the next easel.

At last, she stood, collected his empty cup and saucer, and moved toward the door.

“Aline?”

She turned back.

“May I join you for luncheon?”

Gladness flooded her. “I’m taking Basil to the pleasure garden again, but you are very welcome to join us.”

“Then I shall find you there.”

The threat of Stephen’s unpleasant family might have gone, but Aline saw no reason to let down her guard. After all, she had come to the hotel for reasons that had nothing to do with Stephen. So, allowing Mr. Flowers his well-earned break, she summoned the footmen, who were well-versed in keeping a discreet watch on Basil’s safety.

Basil brought his paintings to show Mr. Dornan, who dully sauntered toward their table, once more in gentleman’s attire with only a few paint marks showing under his fingernails and a small spot of white in his hair that she itched to pick off for him.

Naturally, Basil thrust his pictures at him as soon as he had sat down. Waving aside Aline’s protests with a quick smile, he examined the drawings and paintings, which Aline thought were rather good for Basil’s age, though she was well aware of her own bias.

“These show definite promise,” Stephen said at last. “I like your imagination and the way you use colors is particularly good. You have your own style and a good eye.”

Basil beamed, and Aline could have kissed Stephen in front of everyone.

“Will you teach me more, sir?” Basil asked eagerly.

“Of course,” Stephen replied without hesitation.

Which made Aline uneasy. Promises made to children, even more than any other, had to be kept. She would be very glad to have Stephen in their lives for as long as he would stay. But after his portraits of her were done, she rather suspected he would be off to immerse himself in his next commission.

After they had eaten, they walked in the gardens. Stephen bought a ball from a stall that had just opened, and he and Basil played football on the grass. Mr. Flowers joined them for a more riotous game, and eventually so did two of the stilt walkers and Dennis, the footman. Aline looked on benignly, pleased and laughing.

Before long, other boys came to join in, and the men reduced their role to watch. Stephen came and stood beside her.

“It is good for him to play with other children,” she said. “I have hauled him around the world too much. He needs to settle and make friends.”

Stephen nodded.

“I thought he would have that when I married the prince. But the best-laid plans… We had to flee and for his own safety, I had to leave him with the Monteignes until I could rectify matters.”

“But you are settled now, are you not? In London.”

She nodded. “Providing there is a way to spike the Monteignes’ guns.”

“There is always a way,” he said vaguely.

Later, as on the previous afternoon, he painted her in his “studio,” and then moved to the painting of her and Basil. He had them discuss Basil’s drawings, with them spread out on the floor, while he watched with his steady, dark eyes and worked who knew what magic with his paint and his clever, delicate hands.

Leaving him to work on his own for a couple of hours, she took Basil back to their own rooms. Just as she put the key in the lock, some movement caught the corner of her eye and she spun around. No one was there.

“Did you see someone?” she asked Basil, hiding her unease.

“No. There’s no one there,” Basil assured her.

Perhaps her nerves were getting the better of her.

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