Page 33 of The Recluse of Wolfeton House (Ladies of Devon 4)

“Who is the man?” he asked.

Hattie’s fingers mingled with the soft, clean fur on Romeo’s back. Had he been given a bath? He hated water. Turning her attention back to the duke, she said, “I’m not sure yet.”

He paused before speaking. “Forgive me, but I thought you just explained that you do know whom you are going to marry.”

“Well, yes and no.”

He waited, and she hesitated to continue. She didn’t very well wish to sound mad. Best to appear as confident as she was able. Straightening her shoulders, she smiled. “I obtained an incantation from a Cunning Woman just this last summer and performed it exactly as she instructed on Midsummer’s Eve. When it was completed, I was to look over my shoulder, and the man I will one day marry would appear there.”

He nodded, his eyebrows knitting together in apprehension. “And did he?”

“Well, no, not a man exactly. I saw a fox.”

Bentley seemed to freeze, his whole body going still as though he was made of stone. Clearing his throat, he asked, “What does that mean?”

She scrunched her nose. “That is the trouble. I’m absolutely certain it means something, but what? Could the man have red hair, or be sly and cunning? I rather hope it is not the latter. But I’m positive I will know the significance when I meet him. The fox simply must be a symbol of something meaningful.”

“Fox,” he repeated.

Was the man having trouble understanding? She nodded but was grateful he had not laughed her from the room. “Well anyway, shall we complete our transaction? I would like to know why you would like to paint me.”

He held her gaze. “Because of your freckles.”

Her hand stilled on Romeo’s back, and she looked up sharply. Was the man mocking her? “I realize I have an abundance of them, but if you think I could have any less if I was better about wearing my bonnet, then you would be mistaken. It’s a curse, and they would be there with or without the blasted sun.”

“I am glad of it. I think they are striking.”

Hattie was not of the same mind, and she had an inkling that he was only being kind.

Bentley could clearly see her hesitation, for he dropped his foot back to the floor and leaned forward slightly. “Think of this from an artist’s perspective, Miss Green. You present a challenge, and since I am relegated to my house and limited inspiration, I have exhausted the extent of painting what is available to me. I would like to try something new, and you offer something both new and ambitious.”

She hadn’t realized capturing her on a canvas would prove so difficult. But she could see his point and understand it. Limited to paint what was directly before her, Hattie struggled to find new content as well, and she had not chosen to seclude herself in one location. Besides, if all she had to do was sit and be painted in order to learn from this man, it was highly worth it.

“Very well.”

His eyebrows rose. “You agree?”

“I agree.”

A grin spread over Bentley’s handsome mouth. Hattie moved to rise, and Bentley came before her at once, reaching to help her stand. She slipped her fingers into his and warmth spread up her arm as his strong, capable hand pulled her up with ease.

“Tomorrow, then?” he asked, leading her to the door.

She paused, and he came to a stop rather close to her side. “Can you be certain that your servants won’t speak of our arrangement to anyone?”

He nodded. “They are the souls of discretion.”

“Very good. Perhaps we might begin Monday? I promised a friend I would help her tomorrow, and I need time to develop my excuse for slipping away.”

“Monday suits.”

Hattie rearranged the cat in her arms. “Very good. I look forward to it.”

Bentley led her to the front door.

She paused. “Oh, is there anything particular I should wear?”

“It shouldn’t matter on our first sitting.”

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