“Your father said you prefer Town.”
“Greg,” she lightly chastised. “You’re not supposed to move your lips.”
“Yes, I know. I’m a horrible subject. But do answer the question, Bella.”
She lifted her brush to her canvas as she said, “I do prefer Town, the people, the energy that comes from being here. I imagine the countryside would be more pleasant without my grandfather, but thus far I’ve never been in the country without him. Much more difficult to escape him when there’s nowhere else to be.”
“I promise never to invite him to Rufford Hall, should you ever want to come there.”
Bella glanced back over at Greg. If she didn’t know better, she’d suspect he was actually courting her. Why else would he suggest her visiting Rufford Hall? “You shall have to tell me all about it.” And then she held up her fingers. “When I’m not painting you.”
Greg clamped his lips together, which only made Bella laugh. Goodness, if only he was courting her…
She would never want for anything else for the rest of her life.
* * *
Greg was definitely lettingthis pretend betrothal go to his head. She was the most lovely girl. And she was kind and charming and…she smelled amazing. Sitting there, only able to watch her, was the tiniest bit tortuous, especially when he really wanted to kiss her again and again and again.
Which was ridiculous.
The last thing he should be doing is kissing Bella Winslett, or thinking about kissing her, rather. But how could he do otherwise? It was this damned temporary betrothal. He was expected to spend time with her. He was expected to tell anyone who asked how much he cared for her. And he was expected to look at her as though she held his heart in her hands.
None of those things were any sort of hardship, not at all. But the pretending to have feelings for her…well, he was afraid he was even fooling himself into believing he was falling in love with her. She was, after all, perfect in so many ways.
Perhaps he needed a day or two on his own, some time to get the thoughts in his mind straight again. Some distance from her before he made a giant fool out of himself.
“Are you all right?” Bella asked, and Greg turned his attention to her.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Your expression.” She frowned at him. “You look…frustrated?”
That was definitely one word for it. “Apologies,” he said and tried to adopt the peaceful look he thought he’d sported most of the previous day. “Better?”
“Greg,” she placed her palette and brush back down on the table. “If you don’t want to do this today…” Bella shook her head. “We don’t even have to do this at all, not if you don’t want to. I’ve already asked so much of you…”
“No, no, I don’t mind,” he said. Greg raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t know why I’m so restless today, Bella.”
A sweet smile graced her lips and Greg’s heart lifted just a bit. “I am happy to go home and change into a riding habit. Or—” she shrugged slightly “—you don’t have to be with me at all, if you’d rather be alone.”
“No,” he said quickly. He didn’t want to be alone, even if he had just thought that having some distance from her would do him a bit of good. But he had been quite alone for so long, and he did enjoy her company… “How about shopping?” he suggested. “I’ve been meaning to head to Garrard to find something for Cordie’s birthday in a few weeks. I’m sure you’d have a much better eye for what to get her than I would.”
“What girl doesn’t like looking at jewelry?” She grinned at him and his heart beat slightly faster.
“Oh?” Greg asked as he pushed off the settee to start toward her. “And what sort of jewelry do you prefer, Bella? Any particular stone?”
Diamonds. He could see her with diamonds around her slender neck, twinkling just so, reflecting the silver of her eyes.
“I don’t know that I have a preference,” she said, her cheeks pinkening just slightly. “The color of each stone is unique and interesting in its own right, don’t you think?”
To see the world through the eyes of an artist. Even so, she didn’t see herself the way he saw her, she couldn’t possibly.
Diamonds, Greg decided. She should only ever wear diamonds, and perhaps nothing else. At that thought, he shifted in his spot. Yes, yes, being somewhere…anywhere but completely alone with her would be conducive to his state of mind and hopefully his state of arousal.
* * *
As Greg directedhis phaeton through Mayfair and then onto Haymarket, Bella took in everything along their journey to R., J., & S. Garrard - the shoppers along Bond Street, the coaches and bustle of Piccadilly, and the more subdued pedestrians on Haymarket. If only she had enough time to capture it all on canvas. If only she’d been able to capture Greg, his stoic nature with just a hint of humor and more than a little honor exuding from him.