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“I would be only too happy to aid you in such a manner, Miss Partington.”

As he led her off the dance floor, Araminta was about to murmur her appreciation in terms that made clear her enormous gratitude, only he was buttonholed at that moment by his brother.

She just made out the indistinct words, “Teddy, can you waylay that gentleman there and ask questions later?”

Araminta looked in the direction Mr. Tunley was pointing. She could see Larissa’s employer, young Mr. Lamont, crossing the room, his sights set on her half-sister. Araminta’s lip curled.

Social climbing upstart, she thought, before deciding he’d make a good match for Larissa, after all. He considered himself so above Miss Hazlett, the family’s governess, but little did he know Larissa came from stock far better than his own.

Perhaps it would be kind to think of helping her sister. It would be a charitable thing to do. And Mr. Cosmo Lamont would be a perfectly suitable suitor. Larissa certainly couldn’t continue gallivanting with Mr. Tunley, for she’d soon have her heart broken, and a good sister like Araminta must do what she could to help her nearest and dearest. Mr. Tunley would be filled with aversion if he knew Larissa was...

Araminta could barely articulate the word to herself, but blankets came to mind, with herself firmly on one side—the good side—while poor Larissa flailed on the other.

She smiled sweetly at Mr. Tunley and nodded at Mr. Lamont as Mrs. Monks responded to her summons and came to lead her away, as any good chaperone would her gently nurtured debutante charge.

And her heart thrilled at the charm and gratitude she read in His Lordship’s answering smile before he began an earnest conversation with Larissa’s soon-to-be suitor, Mr. Lamont.

**

From a distance, Lissa could see that Ralph, reliable as ever, was where he’d promised he’d be. Perhaps the corridor hadn’t been such a wise choice, for he was quite conspicuous, but everything had been organized so hurriedly and besides, this would only take a moment.

“It’s done, and should, I believe, answer the purpose. I’m sorry I can’t show you, for I’ve sealed it, but now I’m ready to hand the two sketches to Mr. Lamont.”

She shivered and Ralph gave her a comforting pat. “I really should stop taking such liberties. When are we going to spend time together that is a little less fraught than these clandestine meetings? Now, have courage, my dearest, you are quite the heroine.”

Lissa glowed with pleasure. “I hope Lady Smythe is pleased with the sketch I’ve done of her husband. See, I’ve taken him out of the original picture of the three gentlemen I sketched in the supper house, and drawn him on his own. What do you think?”

She held up the two pictures and Ralph grinned his admiration. “I’m more interested in your rendition of Lord Debenham. You have captured the very essence of my employer’s black heart beneath the self-satisfied sneer. Well done. I could identity Lord Debenham at a glance now, even if I’d never met him before. And Lord Smythe and that other reprobate who looks mightily out of place are truly well done. You are a fine artist. Lady Smythe will be in transports and your Master Cosmo is going to find himself a very busy young man, with a flurry of commissions coming his way.”

Lissa, about to respond, instead gave a gasp as she was jostled by a passing gentleman she’d not noticed advancing down the corridor toward them.

“I beg your pardon, miss,” he apologized as he bent to retrieve the sketch that had fluttered to the floor. He was about to hand it back to her when the smile on his face was wiped away by shock. “Good Lord, where did you get this?” he demanded, before again apologizing, this time for the expletive.

Lissa’s chaperone for the evening appeared in the doorway, but Lissa was too concerned by the stranger’s reaction to respond to her summons.

He still had not relinquished the sketch. “Forgive me my manners. Allow me to introduce myself.” He bowed. “Sir Archibald Ledger. I had not thought it possible to have such a compelling picture of these three men in company together. The detail is superb, the rendition quite...extraordinary. Might I ask the name of the artist?”

Ralph glanced at Larissa, who said hesitantly, “I believe the artist wishes to remain anonymous.” She held out the sketch she’d done of Lord Smythe alone. “There is perhaps better detail in this one.” If Sir Archibald wished to commission her directly, she would not be averse. “Lady Smythe wished for a rendition of her husband and asked the...er...sketcher to follow him while at Vauxhall Gardens to capture him during an unguarded moment, so she could present the sketch to him later as a surprise.”

She was getting into her stride now, perfecting her spiel so she could perhaps gain an extra commission. Vulgar though it was for a lady to think of money like this, a future with Ralph would only be possible if they had more of it. “Perhaps you are interested in having a sketch done of your wife?”

The way he snorted, seemingly in derision, shocked Lissa. “Not possible. At least, not for a while yet. Lady Julia was recently delivered of a healthy ten-pounder at my estate.”

“Congratulations,” Lissa murmured. It seemed the only appropriate thing to say. “I trust all went well.”

“Yes, yes,” he went on dismissively. “Now, the sketch. I’d like to buy it from you—or the artist. I assume the sketch from which the commissioned subject was extracted is no longer necessary, if the main purpose was to capture Lord Smythe’s likeness. What say, five pounds?”

“Five pounds!” cried Lissa. The sum was exorbitant. It was more than she’d earn in three months as a governess. “You’re welcome to it for that price, sir.”

Her astonishment was compounded as he promptly handed over the money without demur.

“Extraordinary,” he muttered as he took his leave. “I cannot believe how fortuitous this has been.”

He left Ralph and Lissa staring

at one another before Lissa burst into nervous giggles. She held up the money and stared wonderingly at it. “Oh Ralph,” she whispered, “I’ve never had so much in my life.”

Gently, he stroked her cheek. “If that’s all it takes to fill your eyes with such glee, my job is going to be easy. That is, if I ever find a loose five pounds lying around.”


Tags: Beverley Oakley Daughters of Sin Historical