The facetious comment confused Lily, but she said nothing as Daniel led her to a glass-knobbed door between the rows of shelving on the wall opposite the door they had come in. He took a key out of his pocket and turned it in the lock. “Now, if you’ll follow me.”
Lily’s heart nearly stopped. It was another library, but this one was a gallery dedicated solely to art. The giant chandelier illuminated a room filled with treasures. Paintings hung on the walls, sculptures stood on the floor, and vases and smaller statues graced several cherry tables. “Oh Daniel!” She grasped his arm. “I can’t believe this!”
“Don’t get overly excited. About half of these paintings are my mother’s work, and she was never a big name in the art world.”
“You silly, art isn’t about names. It’s about beauty and emotion.” She whirled around, trying to take it all in.
Daniel patiently led her through the room, showing her each individual piece and explaining the history behind it and how it had come into his family. Lily gushed over paintings by Van Dyck and Rembrandt, and was particularly taken with a copy of Leonardo Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa that the duchess had painted.
“This was the only time she ever copied someone else’s work. She was so taken with the portrait that she spent a month in Paris so she could go to the Louvre and look at it every day. She would spend about an hour each morning studying it and then go back to her chamber and paint. I’ve seen the real one, and my mother’s is remarkably accurate.”
“It’s amazing,” Lily said. “I must see the Louvre someday. I can’t even imagine what a thrill it will be.”
“Let’s go tomorrow, then,” Daniel said with a smile.
“All right. I’ll pack my valise.” She gave him a quick hug. “This has been a fantastic evening. Thank you so much for showing me everything.”
“I have several more pieces I’d like for you to see, but they’re scattered around the estate. Would you like to save them for another time?”
Lily lifted her hand and caressed the curve of Daniel’s jaw, his night beard rough against her palm. “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I don’t want to look at another piece of art tonight.”
“What do you want to do, love?” he asked, taking her other hand in his.
More than anything in the world, she knew what she wanted. And damn the consequences.
“I want to go to bed,” she said. “With you.”
Chapter 7
Lily sighed as she entered Daniel’s bedchamber. A fire had been started in the grate, casting a delicate glow about the room and illuminating St. Praxedis’s lovely face in an incandescent beauty. The table in the window was set with a small platter of fruit and chocolate, and an uncorked bottle of wine and two glasses stood next to it. Two tapers lit the small banquet.
“Oh my,” Lily said. “That’s lovely.” Then, turning to Daniel, “One might think you assumed I’d come with you.”
“I just believe in being prepared, love.”
“And I suppose, had I refused, you’d have found a willing substitute?”
He moved toward her and cupped her face in his hands. “I don’t want anyone but you tonight, Lily. Had you refused, I’d have blown out the candles and gone to bed.” He led her to the table. “Come, sit with me. I want to feed you.”
Lily’s heart raced. Daniel had the most remarkable way of using words to make her feel absolutely giddy with desires. Years of practice, no doubt. She pushed the conjecture from her mind. She wanted to enjoy the moment. She started to sit down on the settee where she had taken lunch, but he pulled her away.
“I said sit with me.” He sat down and pulled her into his lap. He took the bottle of wine and poured two glasses. “This is Château Beychevelle, 1831. I think you’ll find it to your liking.”
“I’m afraid know very little about wine.”
“Then I shall teach you.” He held up the glass. “Smell this.”
“What?”
“Stick your cute little nose into the glass and smell it.”
She complied.
“Now, what did it smell like?”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Was it smoky, or floral, or fruity? Those are just some examples. Here, try again.”