Her Muse, Her David (Muses Book 3)

by Jane Charles

  “Where on earth did you come from?” she asked, even though it was impossible for the horse to hear her from there, let alone answer.

  She put her paints aside and stood, stepping away from the log that had been her seat and started for the beach only to be brought up short as a man emerged from the sea. “Goodness.” Surely he didn’t decide to take a swim fully clothed. Had his horse thrown him?

  All she could see of him was a dark head of wet hair because he was looking down as he tore the jacket and waistcoat away from this body before tossing them onto the dry sand. Her heart stilled and the breath caught in her throat at the sight of the white shirt plastered to his chest and arms.

  Never had she seen such a sight. At least not in the near flesh. The contours of his muscles, the way they moved beneath the linen, was more than she could ever imagine from the stone statues she had viewed once upon a time.

  Surely not all men were built so gloriously, and if they were, then someone needed to redefine fashion so such visions were not shielded from the appreciation of women such as herself.

  Oh, this was so improper. There was a very good reason women and men dressed as they did. It was to safeguard them from sin, such as those of the flesh that her uncle liked to preach about. And Anna could clearly see why. Even though the morning was still cool, she was warm. Very warm indeed and she fought the urge to loosen the buttons at her throat and perhaps free a few more above her breast so that she could breathe normally again.

  Her cheeks heated with embarrassment. A virtuous woman would turn her back or at least hide her eyes. And even though Anna’s virtue was certainly not in question, she was also an artist and extremely curious.

  The man shook his arms and head, droplets of water flying in every direction and then he looked up. Anna’s heart stopped before her pulse started pounding. It was him. He was back.

  When his eyes locked with hers everything stopped. The sea behind him faded away, as did the sound of the birds that had filled her ears before. He stood there, looking at her, and she could not tear her eyes away from him.

  A strong wind whipped her hair in front of Anna’s face and she quickly swiped it away, afraid that when she looked again, he’d be gone. But he wasn’t. He was moving toward her.

  Waves crashed in the distance, reminding her where they were and the awareness of the wind awakened her from the state she’d been in only a few moments before. Grabbing the blanket she had brought with her, Anna raced toward the beach.

  Chapter 4

  David ignored the cold wind – which wasn’t nearly as cool before he’d been tossed in the see – and strode toward the woman. He kept her in his sights, not about to let her get away from him a second time. She might be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Powerful and glorious, standing upon the hill, her golden hair flying on the wind that pushed the light muslin dress against her body, outlining each lush curve. When she bent to grab something, he feared she was about to run off. Instead, she lifted what looked to be a blanket and then hurried toward him.

  She didn’t have a direct path to the beach, so David met her at the edge of the outcropping then placed his hands about her waist, sinking his fingers into her softness as he lifted her down to the sand.

  “Are you quite all right?” Her green eyes filled with concern.

  “Very well, indeed.” Better than he’d been in a very long time despite the fact that his boots and clothing were now completely ruined and he was probably going to freeze his arse off before he made it back to Torrington Abbey. Not that any of that mattered now that he’d found his fairy.

  “Here, wrap this around you.” She held out the blanket.

  That’s not what David wanted. Her arms, on the other hand, would warm him quite nicely. “I don’t wish to ruin your blanket.”

  “And I don’t wish you to catch your death.”

  Neither did he actually. “A fire.”

  “Yes, we need a fire.” She turned, looking about. “I believe there is some wood near where I was sitting.”

  “I’ll gather it,” David insisted. He jumped up onto the small ledge and began walking to where she’d been sitting. The wind was colder up here, but soon he’d be back at the beach, in the curve of the cliff and enjoying a cold breakfast with the young woman. If she didn’t run off first.

  He hurried and collected every piece of wood he could find until he couldn’t carry anymore and then tossed them down to the beach before returning for more. Though he didn’t plan on making a large fire, he certainly wanted enough wood to keep it burning for as long as she remained.

  By the time he returned with a second armful, his fairy had already arranged them in a small triangular stack and was stuffing dried grasses beneath the broken limbs. “Do you have a flint?” she called up.

  “In my saddle bags,” Thorn answered as he jumped back to the beach, his sodden boots sinking into the thick sand.

  While his artist went about stacking the rest of the wood away from the future fire, David trudged over to his horse and retrieved the packet. Without being asked, she came up behind him and held her skirts out to block the wind until he was able to get the dried grasses to catch. Soon, flames licked at the wood.

  David dusted off his hands and stood. “Perhaps now would be a good time to introduce ourselves.” He grinned. “Mr. David Thorn, at your service,” he said with a bow.

  Why did she gasp at his name? Surely his reputation hadn’t reached this far north. Not in this village. He’d only been here once and had behaved himself for the most part. Well, except for that first night when he, Garrick, and Quentin had gotten foxed in town, and he had ended up walking on his hands in a pub, causing a stir, but no women were ruined or even involved.

  “Your name is truly David?”

  He’d had many reactions to his name, but that was usually when they heard Thorn. Nobody had ever said David with such awe. “Yes. Might I have yours?”

  “Anna. Anna Southward.”

  “It is my greatest pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Anna Southward. By chance have you breakfasted yet?”

  Her green eyes widened with confusion before she blinked at him. “Breakfasted?”

  “Yes, breakfasted? I had it on the greatest authority that you might be somewhere around here this morning and given the hour. I thought sustenance would be in order.” She didn’t need to know that the picnic wasn’t exactly his idea.

  This time she frowned at him. “Who told you I’d be here?”

  “Ah, I cannot reveal my secrets, but a certain young woman had a premonition that I might just find you here.”

  “Premonition?”

  He dearly hoped she wasn’t going to repeat everything he said, although she did seem rather confused. Goodness, his fairy wasn’t simple, was she? He couldn’t think of anything that could be more distressing. “Her words, not mine.”

  Anna took a step back and narrowed her green eyes on him. “By chance have you recently visited Mr. Chetwey and his wife?”

  “Ah, you have guessed the visionary that has led me to you.”

  “Brighid may be many things, but visionary is not one of them.”

  Ah, so she didn’t know, or possibly didn’t believe Chetwey’s wife was a witch. David decided to keep that bit of information to himself.

  “I mentioned to her yesterday that I would be here,” she added.

  So the witch and her husband lied to him. All that nonsense about premonitions, sending him from the house before the sun was up when she knew before they even dined last night where Miss Southward would be this morning, and he’d fallen for it. As much as he’d like to be angry with his friends, it was impossible because he had, finally, found the one he sought.

  * * *

  If Brighid were here, right now, Anna was certain she’d kiss and hug her dear friend. How had she guessed that it had been David Thorn who had sat for her last year? Anna hadn’t known his name or even met him. Had Mr. Thorn said something to Brighid or Chetwey? If
so, why hadn’t she told her? If not, why would Thorn ride out, this early in the morning, simply because Brighid told him to do so?

  Several questions rumbled around in her mind, but she didn’t dare question her good fortune.

  Not that any of that mattered right now, because here they both were, quite secluded and she could study him without anyone knowing. It was a shame he’d fallen into the water, and she truly hoped he didn’t become ill from it, but she was thrilled as well. When else would she get a chance to study the male form?

  The linen was wet and clinging to his body, outlining each ridge and line of every muscle in his arms, chest, stomach and back. Goodness he was finer than any statue she’d ever seen.

  And, his name was David. It was as if fate had set him in her path, twice, and she was not going to run away a second time. “Would you please excuse me?”

  Before she could turn away, Mr. Thorn snatched up her hand in his, and a tingling shot up her arm.

  “You aren’t leaving me, are you?”

  “After you’ve been tossed in the sea? That would not be very kind, now would it?”

  “It would be extremely cruel. You must stay and see that I recover.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “I only wish to retrieve my painting supplies.”

  “Let me. I don’t wish for you to injure yourself herself climbing up and down that ledge.”

  Before Anna could respond, Mr. Thorn had already jumped up and was striding up the hill. Though it was highly improper, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his wet trousers plastered against his bum, or his muscular thighs. She had found her very own David. Now to convince him to pose without scandalizing the gentleman.

  A moment later, he was coming back down the slight hill with her easel and canvas, which he passed down to her. Anna glimpsed at the sunrise. While the colors were brilliant and she couldn’t have been happier with how she’d captured the reflection off the water only a short time ago, it no longer held any appeal. Not when Mr. Thorn was here. She could paint the sea anytime, she might never get a chance to paint him again.

  Drat, why did she only think to bring water colors? They would never do. Oils, rich luxurious oils were what she needed. But, as she had none with her, Anna would just have to make do.

  A moment later, Mr. Thorn jumped back down and handed her the satchel and jug, still partially full of water.

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s a beautiful painting, by the way.”

  Not as beautiful as you. “Thank you.”

  “Now, let’s see about that breakfast.”

  Anna spread the blanket before the fire, unable to believe her good fortune, while Thorn retrieved their meal. Thankfully they weren’t where anyone could see them or she’d be ruined. She’d just have to make sure nobody ever found out.

  Mr. Thorn scooped his jacket and waistcoat off the sand. Anna took them from him and hung them on the small trees growing from the rocks. Hopefully his clothing would dry before he had to return to Torrington.

  “Please, have a seat, Miss Southward.”

  “Thank you.” She settled at the corner and he on the other side, placing the basket between them. With the small rock wall behind them and the fire between them and the sea before them, it was quite cozy. She and her David, practically alone in the world.

  Chapter 5

  “Tell me, Miss Southward, why did you run away from me last year at the masquerade?”

  She practically choked on her ham sandwich. Perhaps he should have waited until she’d finished swallowing before he posed the question.

  “I didn’t run away from you.”

  “I recall that you clearly did.”

  “When?”

  “You were gone when I returned with the punch you so sweetly asked me to retrieve.”

  For a moment he thought she’d forgotten and then her lovely cheeks started to turn a pale pink. “Yes, well, my cousin reminded me of the time, and I needed to return to my home.”

  That would explain her disappearance, but it wasn’t all that late. At least not by London standards, but this was a small village.

  “We weren’t even supposed to be there.”

  This surprised him.

  “I wasn’t exactly invited, but even if I had been, my uncle would have forbidden it.”

  “Uncle?” Blast! Why hadn’t he made the connection before? “Your uncle is Vicar Southward?” He hadn’t met the man but had heard nothing pleasant about him.

  Miss Southward grimaced. “Yes. He didn’t approve of the masquerade, the guests, the owners, or even my dearest friend, who happens to be Brighid.”

  So, perhaps she did know Chetwey’s wife is a witch.

  “Was that the reason for your intriguing Italian accent?”

  She glance away as if she were unable to meet his eyes. “I was afraid someone from Ravenglass might recognize me…and it also added to the fun of the night by pretending to be a mysterious lady.” She glanced up and give him a bashful smile. “You must think me silly.”

  David couldn’t help but be enchanted. “Hardly silly, but certainly intriguing.”

  Biting her bottom lip she glanced up at him through her lashes.

  “You attended regardless of your uncle’s objections.” He did appreciate a little adventure in a lady.

  “How could I not?” Her eyes widened with excitement as she looked up. “We’re lucky to hold a few assemblies around here each year, and they aren’t exactly the most exhilarating events, I assure you.”

  David couldn’t help but chuckle. He was raised in a similar small village and nothing of consequence ever happened there.

  “And, of course, I couldn’t just wait at home to see if Brighid brought Callie back.”

  David stilled and looked over at Miss Southward. “You know about that?”

  “Of course,” she dismissed with a shrug. “If you hadn’t been part of making sure Mrs. Routledge was banished, I’d have never said anything.”

  David placed his plate aside, intrigued. How could she know so much, unless Brighid told her? He thought it was all to remain secret. And, Miss Southward hadn’t been anywhere near the castle, at least not until the night of the masquerade. He would have certainly noticed her before had she been there.

  “Do you remember the poppet she threw into the fire?”

  He nodded.

  “I made that for Brighid, after painting Lady Routledge’s likeness on the face.” Anna shivered as if chilled. “After sketching her face from a portrait in the gallery, I then went to the herbarium to make and paint the poppet. I was certain Lady Routledge knew what I was about and was going to jump out and take me away too.”

  David would like to have laughed at her suggestion, but he’d probably have felt the same way. As long as he lived, he’d never forget the night they banished the evil spirit for eternity.

  * * *

  The easel was right behind her and many of her supplies. Did she dare ask? Just because David Thorn sat for her before, did not mean he would sit for her again. Especially on a chilly morning, on the beach, while his clothing was still wet. But, to have the chance to even sketch him this way, was beyond anything Anna thought she’d ever get the opportunity to attempt.

  Anna cleaned up the remains of their breakfast as she gathered her nerves. Other than the ham and bread, there’d been hard cooked eggs, a few apples and a jug of water. Simple, plain and filling. Mr. Thorn handed his plate to her, his light brown eyes meeting hers, a devilish twinkle in their depths.

  Flustered, Anna glanced away. Certain that twinkle was only her imagination. After all, he was sitting there, in his shirtsleeves, collar open at the neck, his dark, thick hair tussled, and a shadow of facial hair along his strong jawline, as if he hadn’t bothered to shave in some time, and he didn’t appear to be uncomfortable in the least.

  After closing the basket, Anna glimpsed at him from beneath her lashes. “I don’t wish to be presumptuous, or make you uncomfortable, but I’d l
ike to ask a favor of you.”

  He lifted a dark eyebrow in question but didn’t say a word.

  Perhaps this was a bad idea. Something warned her that Mr. Thorn could be a very dangerous man. Not that he’d physically harm her, but her heart was an entirely different matter.

  And, if anyone did come across them, it would be all over for her. Not only would her reputation be ruined, completely and without question, but Uncle Walter would probably lock her in her room for the rest of her life.

  Everything inside Anna warned her to bring this meeting to an end, return to her home, and attend to her needlepoint. But, when would she ever get another chance like this? Gentlemen like David Thorn never came to Ravenglass but once a year and none of the men who actually lived in the village were worth looking at, let alone spending hours to study their features so that she could sketch them.

  With a prayer that she wouldn’t regret this, Anna tossed caution to the wind. “Might I sketch you again?” Goodness her face was hot. Maybe it was simply from the stinging wind, though deep in her heart, Anna knew it was from embarrassment.

  A smile pulled at one corner of his full lips and Anna’s heart pounded.

  Instead of answering, Mr. Thorn asked, “Why?”

  All she could do was blink at him. She certainly couldn’t tell him the truth. “Um,… because…, um…I was unable to see you as clearly that night…it was dark at the party…you see it made your likeness difficult to capture.” Yes, that was a good enough response. “I already know all the faces in the village, but yours is new.”

  All he did was chuckle then lean to the side to support himself on his elbow. He then bent one leg while the other remained outstretched. “I am all yours, Miss Southward.”

  Anna swallowed, her throat becoming incredibly dry as she reached for her sketch pad and pencil. She’d only had a chance to draw his face before, but she wasn’t going to stop there. Not the way he was laid out for her to feast her eyes upon.