Page 41 of Romancing the Artist

“This sculpture is known as the Farnese Atlas, which was discovered in the ruins of Rome. It depicts the mythological figure in stunning detail.”

Caroline studied the sketch with fascination, pursing her lips and taking in the man’s posture. The Titan was on one knee, with both arms holding up the globe. His muscles bulged and strained under the weight, and his face was contorted with effort and pain.

Lady Inglewood turned the page to show a more detailed sketch of the sculpture’s face.

Edward cleared his throat, and when Caroline looked up, she saw him staring at the countess, his cheeks pink.

“We aren’t trying to replicate the sculpture, surely?” He avoided Caroline’s gaze completely. He released a weak laugh. “I doubt I could manage a beard like that one.”

Caroline didn’t blame him in the least for his worries, which she knew had little to do with facial hair. And she quickly assured him, “No. No, of course not. This is merely an example of what might be done. You needn’t change any aspect of your physical appearance.”

“And we will certainly provide more covering than a cape.” The countess seemed momentarily amused, then covered her sketchbook with another book, already open. When Caroline looked down, she was somewhat relieved to see no illustrations.

“Here is the myth of Atlas. The earl helped me find it for you.” She pointed to the book. “I suggest the two of you read it through together, and then discuss what pose you think best suited to his tale. Knowing what others have done is useful, but the work must be your own, Caroline. And do remember that we can depict the Titan in a variety of ways, including styles of clothing.” She looked between them, and Caroline wondered if the countess had somehow enjoyed making her uncomfortable. Perhaps it had been a test, of sorts. As neither Caroline nor Edward had fled the room or had a fit of vapors, they had to have passed.

“Thank you for your advice, your ladyship.” Caroline smiled up at her mentor. “I have a few ideas already, and I will certainly take Mr. Everly’s comfort into consideration.”

“Good. I will be reading over there.” The countess pointed to a couch at one side of the large room. “Chaperoning, of course, but also available if you need anything else.”

Edward nodded his understanding, but as soon as Lady Inglewood was settled, he leaned toward Caroline and whispered, “I would prefer to keep as much clothing on as possible, Miss Clapham.”

Heat flooded her cheeks again. “I prefer the same. Trust me on that account.” She pulled the book of Greek mythology closer. “Let us see what we can glean from Atlas’s story.”

“Is it too much to hope for a full description of his most formal suit of clothing?” Edward asked, and Caroline smirked at him as she ran her finger along the page. Then she read aloud.

“‘As a powerful and proud Titan, Atlas was not content to be ruled by the gods. Instead, he sought to overthrow them and claim the heavens for himself. With the help of his brothers, he waged a great war against the gods, hoping to emerge victorious.’”

“I like him so far,” Edward interrupted, and Caroline cut him a sharp look with raised eyebrows. “My apologies. Do continue.”

“‘But the gods were not to be defeated so easily. They unleashed their full wrath upon Atlas and his kin, and in the end, the Titans were defeated and banished to the underworld. For his part in the rebellion, Atlas was punished in a most unusual manner.

“‘The god Zeus, in his wisdom, decreed that Atlas would be forced to hold up the heavens on his shoulders for all eternity. The weight of the heavens was immense, and it caused Atlas great pain and suffering. He longed to be free of his burden, but there was no escape from his punishment.’”

Edward released a heavy sigh. “Poor fellow. He has my sympathy.”

Caroline kept going. “‘For centuries, Atlas held up the heavens, straining under the weight of the celestial sphere. His muscles grew tired and sore, and his back and shoulders became hunched and deformed. But he held on, steadfast and unyielding, for he knew that his punishment was just.’”

“I would rather not be the subject of a painting in which I must appear hunched and deformed,” he said aloud, and Caroline looked up at him to see him smiling at her. “But if that is what you need, of course, I will keep my word.”

That he said as much made her feel somewhat better, though Caroline had no intention of recreating an old, broken Atlas. “I think I would like to depict Atlas at the beginning of his punishment, rather than the end. Still with a measure of defiance, I think. His punishment new, and his feelings of rebellion still simmering. Perhaps disappointed, but not yet defeated in spirit.”

The gentleman at her side raised his eyebrows at her and bent toward the book, his shoulder brushing hers. “You didn’t read the last of it. It says, ‘To this day, Atlas remains a symbol of the power and pride of the Titans, and a warning of the dangers of rebellion against the gods. His fate serves as a reminder that even the mightiest of beings are subject to the will of the gods, and that defiance can lead only to ruin and suffering.’” He snorted and brought the book closer to himself. “Whoever wrote this wasn’t the most cheerful fellow, was he?” He turned to the title page, and Caroline read it over his shoulders.

Divine Retribution: The Mythological Stories of Gods and Titans by Sir Mortimer Grimsby.

“The author’s name certainly paints a picture, does it not?” Edward grinned at her, and Caroline resisted the impulse to grin back.

She needed Edward to take this seriously.

“Sir Mortimer did us a favor,” she noted, reaching over Edward to close the cover, her arm brushing along his in the process. She sat again and cleared her throat. “As I said, I already have a few ideas. I thought we could try them today and find out which pose might be the easiest for you to hold.”

“I won’t have to stand that way for the whole time, will I?” he asked with a wince. “That fellow in the sketch hardly looked happy with his position.”

“Not the entire time,” she promised. “And not all at once. I will do some preliminary sketches, of course. Studying you from all sides. Then I will decide the best position overall, and we will spend longer with you in that pose and angle. From there I will be able to draw out most things on the canvas from memory or using my reference sketches. I will need you available to be certain I get other details correct, from time to time.”

“All right then. Let us begin.” Edward stood, with such an easy willingness that Caroline wondered why Lady Inglewood had thought it so impossible to find a gentleman willing to model. Edward didn’t act at all reticent, other than expressing concern about holding one position overly long. And the costume.

Perhaps, as the project went, things would change.