by HELEN HARDT
“You can’t be serious! You invited me here, Daniel!”
She was right of course. He had invited her, and she had done nothing to merit being sent away. “I spoke in haste. Of course you don’t have to leave. Please make yourself welcome, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay.”
“Fine.” She walked to the door, her dress unbuttoned in the back.
“Wait, I’ll fasten you,” Daniel said.
“Please, don’t bother. I’ll go straight to my chamber.” She slammed the door.
Daniel turned over, burying his face into his pillow, clenching his hands into fists. His unsated erection throbbed. He imagined a pair of soft white hands caressing it, ruby lips enfolding it.
“Lily,” he groaned aloud. “Lily.”
Chapter 3
Lily woke early the next morning. She smiled to herself, remembering the ball. She had enjoyed it, to her surprise. Lord Victor had been charming company, although she didn’t wish to encourage him. Somehow, she had to get him interested in Alexandra.
And the duke. His kiss and his dance edged their way into Lily’s mind more often than she desired. Consciously, she banished them.
Lily brushed out her hair and plaited it, letting the long braid hang down her back. She dressed in a morning gown of pale orange and put on her ankle boots. The men would no doubt be meeting to begin their hunt. She decided to give them a few more moments before descending. Most of the women would still be abed due to the late hour of the ball last evening. Lily intended to take her art supplies and do some painting. She gathered her leather case that held her watercolors and paper. She took out a pint-sized jar, filled it with water from the basin, and capped it and put it in her case. She dropped her writing journal into the case as well. Then she left the room quietly. Rose was still breathing steadily in slumber.
She enlisted a young servant to carry her supplies and walked toward the alcove. Servants were hurrying about on the front lawn, setting up tables and chairs for the ladies’ lawn party that afternoon. In about ten minutes, she found the rocky path she had walked across eight years ago, and in the distance the stony alcove beckoned. The bench was still there, although foliage had grown over parts of it.
Lily dismissed the servant and hummed softly to herself as she set up her easel, placed a watercolor board upon it, and tied an apron around her waist. She opened her jar of water and saturated the paper. Delving in to the case again for her colors, she spied the painting she had brought from home. She looked beyond at the landscape she had painted. Remarkably, it hadn’t changed much in eight years, except no color bloomed now. It had been early autumn during her last visit. She put the painting back in her case and decided to start fresh. She continued humming as she mixed color for the sky, which was scattered with wispy white clouds. A bird twittered in the distance, and Lily stopped in mid stroke. She jotted a few sentences in her journal describing the sounds in the alcove and then went back to her painting.
* * *
Daniel stood several yards back. He smiled as he watched Lily paint, write, paint, and write. He’d first seen her years ago, in this very spot. She had been lovely, her dark hair and eyes promising true beauty as she matured. She had not disappointed. She dipped her head a bit as she mixed more color, and then she added some lush green to the light blue of her painting. Her strokes were deliberate, leaving the color in silky caresses on the paper. She turned again to her journal and wrote for a few moments, and then went back to painting. She changed to a thin brush and drew some delicate brown lines on her board.
Daniel stole forward. “My lady.”
She turned, startled. He recalled with a smile how she had stood up eight years ago, spilling her tin of water. She remained seated this time.
“Good morning, Your Grace. What are you doing here?”
She sounded remarkably calm at his presence. For some reason, this bothered Daniel.
“It is my estate,” he said.
“Why aren’t you on the hunt with the others?”
“I have some business to attend to this afternoon, so I decided to skip the hunt.”
“What on earth are you skulking about for then? I didn’t think men of your station were inclined to rise before noon.”
Daniel chuckled softly. “It seems you have some rather interesting ideas regarding men of my station.”
“You haven’t done anything to make me cast my notions to the wind.” Lily reached for her journal.
“Perhaps I can change your mind about some of your generalizations,” he said. “What are you writing?”
“Nothing much. Just descriptions really. I find that my painting and my writing often go hand in hand.”
“Really? Which do you prefer? Painting or writing?”
Lily turned her gaze to the horizon. “I’m not sure I could say. I suppose I can never decide, which is why I do both at the same time.”
Daniel regarded her with amusement. “I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone like you.”
The porcelain skin on her neck pinked. “You don’t really know me.”
Good Lord, she’s beautiful. “I’d like to.”
The pink on her nape turned to crimson. “You would, would you? I suppose I should be flattered. However, I’m disinclined to associate myself with a gentleman—and I use the term loosely—of your reputation.”
An insult. Not many ladies would dare. She was a delight! Daniel reached to touch her. Her physical charms were overwhelming to any man, but what enticed him most was her loose-tongued sharpness. Clearly she cared little for propriety. He dropped his arm back to his side and ignored her comment.
“My lady, please, I must ask you again for your forgiveness for my behavior last evening.”
“Don’t give it a thought, Your Grace. I’m sure I’m not the first innocent maiden who found herself entrapped in your snare.”
“I wish you would stop joking.”
“I’m not joking.”
“Oh.” Daniel stepped backward. Oh, she was audacious, this one. And so beautiful and intriguing. “Then if you would allow me to make it up to you in some way…”
Lily put down her journal and stood, turning to face him. She wiped her hands on the apron covering her skirt. Daniel’s skin heated as her cognac eyes pierced his. She opened her mouth, but no words emerged.
“Yes?” he urged.
She bit her lip. “Your Grace, there is something that you could do for me.”
“Anything, my lady.”
“I would like to see your art collection.” She spoke quickly, her voice softening with each catch of her breath. “It’s rumored to be one of the finest in England, and my brother told me that it could only be viewed by private invitation. I have a passion for art, Your Grace, and Vermeer is one of my favorites. You do have a Vermeer, do you not?”
He grinned. “I do.”
“I know this must seem very forward, but I’ve been excited about this trip to Laurel Ridge for quite some time. To actually see a Vermeer! The thought of being close to something that he touched. I suppose this must sound crazy to you, but, well, to tell you the truth, I had planned to find it myself…”
“So you thought you’d do a little investigating, did you?” He smiled, enjoying her nervousness.
“No, of course not.” She blushed. The rosiness crept down her neck to the swells of her plump bosom. “Well, yes, actually.”
“Is that by any chance what you were doing last night, when I…caught you?”
Lily looked to the ground. “Yes, I suppose it was. I stole onto the terrace and was planning to go around to the front entrance and sneak through the house until I found it. Everyone was at the ball, so I figured it was a perfect time to have a look.”
“You would have found some beautiful pieces, but I’m afraid the Vermeer would have eluded you.”
She looked up. “Why is that?”
“Because I keep it in a very special place. A place you wouldn’t have dared to look.”
&n
bsp; “Where?”
“My bedchamber.” He couldn’t help himself. He gave her his best rakish grin.
“Oh.” Her dark eyes radiated disappointment. “I suppose I shall never see it then.”
“Nonsense. I would be happy to show it to you.” Oh, I would indeed.
“I can’t possibly go to your bedchamber. It would be highly improper.” She bit her lip again.
That soft plump lower lip, so satiny against his own last night… Damn. His cock twitched. “My lady, you don’t strike me as a woman who would let convention keep you from something you want.”
“I don’t know why you feel it necessary to insult me, Your Grace.” Lily reddened again, but she spoke with eloquence. “After all, you are the one who has behaved abominably.”
“You are right, of course, and I meant no insult.” He touched her arm lightly and his cock jerked again. “But my lady, it’s just a painting, and it happens to hang in my bedchamber. If you would like to see it, I will show it to you. I did promise to do anything you wanted to make up for my unforgivable behavior last night.”
“Oh, I do so want to see it.”
“Would it help if I gave you my solemn promise to keep you at arm’s length the entire time we are there?”
“I’m not sure I would believe such a promise.”
“Just as well, since I’m not sure I can make it.” He winked at her.
Lily widened her beautiful eyes. “Goodness…”
“Come with me,” Daniel said. “I will escort you to the house, and it will be my pleasure to show you the Vermeer. It’s been a long time since a woman has wanted to come to my bedchamber for something other than—”
“Your Grace, please.”
She was absolutely lovely when she blushed. He waited a few seconds, hoping her passion for Vermeer would win over convention.
“All right, Your Grace.” She took his offered arm. “May I leave my art supplies out here?”
“I’ll have someone take care of it. They’ll be delivered to your chamber.”
“Actually, give me just a minute. I’ll get things in order. I don’t want to leave my journal sitting out here, and this painting isn’t finished yet, obviously. I would like to…but I can’t possibly finish it today, can I? By the time we get back, the light will have changed significantly. Damn.”
Daniel smiled at her curse. She didn’t seem to notice that she’d said it.
“I may as well put this all away now,” she continued. “I’ll have to come back out tomorrow at the same time.”
“If you would like to complete your work, we can see the Vermeer later.” Daniel ran his finger lightly over her forearm. God, he loved touching her. “I can think of nothing I would rather do, actually, than watch you paint.”
Lily whisked her arm away. “Surely you have better things to occupy your time, Your Grace.”
“Not really.” He leaned against the bench as she covered her watercolor palette.
“As much as I would like to finish, I really want to see the Vermeer. So I shall continue this on the morrow.” She hastily packed her supply case. As she bent to slide in the unfinished painting, the edge of another piece caught Daniel’s eye.
“What is that one?” he asked.
“Oh, this? I actually painted this same scene when I was last here. I brought it with me to see how the landscape had changed. However, it seems my perception is what has changed.”
“May I see it?”
“I suppose, if you want to. But my technique wasn’t really up to par then. It’s not very good.”
“Let me be the judge of that.” He regarded the painting. “My lady, this is truly lovely. I remember you painting it. Do recall our first meeting?”
Lily blushed again. “I believe so. I was just a child.”
“I remember thinking that you had a remarkable gift. I can see that I was correct.”
“Th-Thank you,” she stammered. “But I’m a much better painter now. That work is just, well, yes, it’s pretty, I agree, but—”
“Nonsense, it’s wonderful. May I?” He pulled out the unfinished watercolor and compared the two. “Yes, your technique has definitely improved, but this one shows your talent when it was raw and untamed. There’s an innocence to it, yet a wildness as well.”
“I’m…glad you appreciate it, Your Grace.”
“I do, my lady. Perhaps you should return to Laurel Ridge more frequently and paint the same scene. It would be incredibly interesting to see how your perception changes over time.”
“Certainly, I would…love to return sometime. I’m sure my family would appreciate another invitation.” She fidgeted. “May I have the painting? I’m almost finished putting everything in order. I cannot wait to see the Vermeer.” Lily put both paintings away.
“Please, allow me.” Daniel took her supply case but set it on the bench. He moistened his thumb in his mouth and rubbed it across Lily’s jawline. Her skin was warm and oh so soft.
“Your Grace?”
“You have the most adorable smudge of blue paint on your lovely face.”
There went the rosy flush again. “If it’s so adorable, why are you removing it?”
Daniel warmed and gave a half smile. “Are you flirting with me, my lady?”
“Your Grace, of course not.”
“Folly. I was hoping you were.” Daniel lifted her supply case and led her out of the alcove toward the main house. “You know, I don’t usually escort a lovely lady to my chamber during midmorning. What will the servants think?”
Lily cleared her throat. “I would appreciate discretion, Your Grace.”
“Of course, I was only teasing. No one will know that you’ve been to my chamber. I promise you.”
* * *
When they reached the house, Daniel handed Lily’s supplies to a servant with orders to deliver them to her chamber and then led her through the dining hall and kitchen where cooks were busy preparing the luncheon. She felt extremely conspicuous, but no one seemed to notice them. He led her up a back stairway to his suite on the third floor.
They entered a large sitting room decorated in an eastern style. A large sofa covered in a fiery red brocade graced one wall. An intricate Oriental rug covered the floor and was so plush that Lily’s shoes sank down at least an inch as she stood on it. Two leather armchairs surrounded a mahogany reading table, and two tall elegant barristers’ bookcases lined one wall, housing gilt edged leather bound volumes. Oriental prints adorned the walls, framed beautifully in black lacquered wood. Lily stopped, her feet sinking into the soft fibers beneath her, and looked around the room, taking it all in. Daniel nudged her forward to a door on the far wall, and she entered his bedchamber.
His four poster bed was solid cherry draped in burgundy silk. An elegant sitting window housed a chaise longue and settee, both covered in a burgundy brocade. A small table sat between the two seats. On it were several crystal bottles filled with a dark liquid. Probably brandy, Lily thought. A lush leather armchair sat opposite the bed, next to a door that undoubtedly led to a lavatory with modern plumbing. For some strange reason, Lily was curious to see the duke’s bath chamber. She must have been staring, for he came up behind her, lightly touched his hands to her waist, and slowly turned her to the left.
“This,” he whispered into her ear, “is, I believe, what you wanted to see.”
Lily gasped. The gilt-framed painting graced the wall, positioned so that it was visible from the bed. The picture was of a maiden, gowned in vivid crimson, holding a crucifix and cleaning blood from a dead man behind her. Her expression was one of serene contemplation, despite the vile task she undertook. Lily moved closer to the painting, reaching toward it.
“Don’t worry,” she told Daniel. “I won’t touch it. I know better. I just want to… God, it’s wonderful. I want to look closely at his strokes.”
“I know what you mean. It’s almost a psychic touch, isn’t it? You can feel the texture in your mind if you put your fingers close t
o it.”
“Yes, exactly!” He understood. The duke actually understood how she felt. Lily gazed, drinking it in. “Who is it, do you suppose?”
“St. Praxedis. It’s one of Vermeer’s earlier works. There are some skeptics who don’t think it can be attributed to him, but there has never been any doubt in my mind.”
“St. Praxedis…from the early Catholic Church?”
“Yes, she was elevated to sainthood for her services to the dead bodies of the martyrs. Do you see how she’s holding the crucifix as she cleans the blood from the body? That symbolizes the martyr’s blood mixing with the blood of Christ.”
“My God, he was a genius,” Lily whispered. She couldn’t tear her eyes away. “I wish I could paint like that.”
Daniel moved closer behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, encircling her. Lily absently settled her hands on his and continued to admire the painting.
“Have you ever tried oils?” Daniel asked.
“No, but I’ve always wanted to. My father has had a hard time indulging my artistic side. He would rather I stitch samplers and find a husband. He allows my dalliance with watercolor; however, he feels that oil painting is for more…masculine endeavors. I was never allowed to try them.” She leaned back against him. The nearness of his hard muscled form warmed her through. His breath tickled her cheek. Being in his arms felt…good.
“That’s a pity,” he said. “I’d love to see what you could do with them.”
“So would I, Your Grace.”
He gently turned her around to face him. “Daniel,” he said softly.
“I’m sorry?”
“I want you to use my name. My Christian name.”
“Oh, I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be proper—”
Then his mouth was on hers, slowly sliding over her lips, coaxing them open. He nipped gently at her lower lip, teasing her with his tongue. She sighed as he licked her softly. She was kissing him again. In his bedchamber. She should be fleeing, but her legs wouldn’t move. Didn’t want to move…
He trailed to her cheek and covered it with soft fluttery kisses that felt like the wings of a butterfly, and then slid to her ear and nipped lightly on the lobe.
