Page 44 of Romancing the Artist

Atlas melted away as Edward’s smile returned, though he appeared tired this time.

An hour had passed. Lady Inglewood called a halt to their work. Servants brought in refreshments. Edward was himself again.

Caroline walked him to the door after he enjoyed tea and cake. As Edward put on his hat, he smiled at her. “Thank you for this, sprite. I needed to escape my family. Claude is come, you see. And forgetting about him in the time I was here was immensely helpful.”

He hadn’t mentioned his troublesome cousin’s arrival even once. Caroline’s stomach twisted with guilt. “I am sorry, Edward. We should have spent some time in conversation, not the whole of it on my work. I ought to have asked—”

He shook his head, the weariness in his eyes quite plain to see. “As I said, it was a boon to forget for a time.” He adjusted his gloves, not looking directly at her. “The time in your company today—well. I would not have changed a moment of it.”

She blushed and tucked her hands behind her back, twisting her fingers together where he wouldn’t see. “Good. I’m glad.” She lifted her head with more confidence. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“For more sketching? That is a delightful idea,” he said, a genuine smile melting away the melancholy before it fully took hold of him. “More opportunity to escape my cousin and spread rumors of our growing attachment.”

“Exactly.” Caroline brought her hands forward, folding them demurely. “Thank you for coming today, Edward. I look forward to seeing you again.”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed, bowing. “Good afternoon, sprite.”

She didn’t object to the fairy-name this time, and he swept out the door to his waiting horse. She leaned against the doorway and watched as he mounted. Edward looked back one last time, and his eyebrows lifted when he saw her yet watching. Then he grinned, rather playfully, and tipped his hat to her before riding away.

Caroline closed the door. They had dismissed the footman after the servant delivered Edward’s hat and gloves, so there was no one to see the way she leaned against it, or her little frown when she realized her heart skipped a far too happily within her chest.

This time, she knew she couldn’t blame it on her painting.

Chapter 14

Having Claude as a houseguest made every moment at home miserable. The hour Edward spent with Caroline each day was the only hour he felt like himself. The rest of the time, he was at his father’s beck and call, and subsequently attached to Claude, too. Listening to his cousin’s subtle put-downs and innuendo.

Edward came home from another session spent in Caroline’s presence, entering the stable yard while his thoughts remained lingering behind him at Inglewood. Today, he had spent a lot of time merely sitting while she studied his face. He worked through a variety of expressions, with her dutifully sketching each one, and speaking all the while to him of her family.

She adored her siblings, despite the difference in their ages. She talked of her sister forever trying to startle her and hoped aloud that the little girl didn’t miss her too terribly. She spoke of her twin brothers as having different characters at such a young age and mused at the trouble they would likely cause when they grew older.

Staying still for her study, Edward didn’t speak much in return. But he took in every word she said with interest and watched the play of emotion upon her face with growing admiration.

Sprite, indeed. She glowed when she spoke of her family, lit from within by her love. Her smiles, her concentrative frowns, made him wish to lean in closer the better to study the lines of her jaw, the curve of her cheek, the depth to her brown eyes.

Leaving at the end of an hour in her presence already caused a strange, disappointed feeling in his chest. Something pulled, stretched, between him and the artist at Inglewood. Tugging him backward, at least in thought, when he left for home.

Claude was already waiting, his horse saddled and ready, the rider still adjusting his gloves. He had a crop tucked beneath his arm, and his usual expression of boredom on his face. He looked up when Edward rode in, raising one eyebrow.

Riding together had become a daily activity for Edward, his father, and Claude. Every day when Edward returned from Inglewood. This would mark the fourth time they rode out together, with Edward feigning indifference to his cousin’s company.

Edward’s father had announced the desire to take them hunting for birds on the morrow, perhaps in an effort to dispel the tension and change the routine. Putting a loaded rifle in Edward’s hands while he was anywhere near Claude was something of a risk.

“Ah, Edward, good to see you. Pray tell, where have you been gallivanting all morning?” The man’s smirk appeared, slow and deliberate. “Or are you attempting to better your horsemanship through practice? You know, I’ve always admired your ability to persevere despite your limitations.”

Maybe they ought to go hunting today instead of tomorrow.

Edward sighed. No. Though Claude was as pleasant as a weasel, Edward wouldn’t shoot the man. Even if it put everyone out of their misery.

“I had an appointment, of a personal nature,” Edward responded shortly, tone even as he dismounted. He gave his horse a pat and instructed the groom to bring him a different animal for his ride with his father.

They were still waiting when Claude spoke again. “This is the third time I have come out to the stables to find you barely returned from your errand, cousin.” Claude’s hat tilted across his forehead at an angle the man likely meant to look rakish. Edward hoped a tree removed it before long.

“It is a daily appointment,” Edward said, doing his best impression of the statue of David, with his face a study in stone. “I cannot imagine it causes you any inconvenience.”

“None.” Claude dusted off his shoulder with a free hand while the other clutched his riding crop. “I imagine your time spent away from the estate is filled with all sorts of wholesome activities. Making charity visits, perhaps. Teaching the poor to read. Visiting widows and orphans. That sort of thing.”

Edward snorted before he remembered he wasn’t going to let his cousin rile him. “Any of those things would be better than how you tend to spend your idle hours.”