Cordie shrugged. “I’m sure she’s simply nervous about the idea of being so far away from her son. I know I would be if it was me.”
“We have a long time before that day comes for us,” Lord Clayworth said softly, which earned him a beatific smile from his wife.
“Thank heavens.” Then Cordie glanced across the coach at Bella and Prissa and explained, “Our sister Eleanor and her family are in Tuscany.”
“For the time being,” Greg said. “Though they’re still bound for Vienna by the end of the year, are they not?”
“She hasn’t said otherwise,” his sister replied just as the coach rambled to a stop.
Out the window, stood the British Museum and Bella’s heart sped up a bit. She loved the museum. A few years ago, she could have made it a second home, quite happily so. How odd it was going to be, living in Nottinghamshire without the art and culture she was so accustomed to having nearby. She felt Greg’s eyes on her and she looked up at him to find a twinkle in his green gaze. Her belly flipped. All right, she could live without the British Museum.
The Clayworth footman opened the door and the earl exited first before assisting his wife from the conveyance. Greg followed the pair, offering his hand to Prissa and then to Bella.
My lady,” he said softly and tingles raced through her as his hand closed around hers. Greg gestured toward the museum entrance and said, “I’ll wager someday an Arabella Avery will hang from one of those walls.”
Bella’s cheeks stung from the compliment, though he had nothing to base his words on. “You haven’t even seen anything I’ve completed.”
“Whose fault is that?” he teased. “You should paint faster.”
“Someone keeps distracting me.”
“Someone can’t help himself,” he said and those tingles rushed through her once more.
“She’s brilliant,” Prissa gushed. “The most talented artist in all of England.” And then her sister’s eyes rounded slightly. “I-I mean, I’m certain you’re a brilliant artist too,” she said to Greg. “I didn’t mean—”
“Your loyalty to your sister is very sweet,” A ghost of a smile tipped Greg’s lips. He didn’t, after all, have an artistic bone in his body, but her sister had, of course, been told otherwise. Bella supposed all of that would eventually come out, but today wasn’t the day for such revelations.
“And I must agree with your original assessment,” Greg continued. “Bella is a much better artist than I am.”
Prissa grinned up at him. “Your loyalty to my sister is also very sweet, my lord. She is quite lucky to have you.”
“Ah, I think we’re lucky to have each other,” Greg replied as he winked at Bella and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. “Shall we go pick out the spot where they’ll hang your favorite piece?”
Bella couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. “Your sister wants to see the marbles,” she reminded him.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Greg pretended to grumble. Then he glanced back at his sister and her husband. “Do lead on, Cordie. This was your idea.”
The countess tipped back her head with a regal air as she and her earl stepped inside the museum. Bella, Greg and Prissa followed right behind them. They made their way, the five of them past the grand staircase and through a couple of galleries when a rather surprising figure seemed to appear out of nowhere.
Bella had never met the Marquess of Haversham, but she had seen him from afar and the stories people told of the man…well, they could make even the most adventurous libertine quake just a bit, she was certain.
“My dear Lord Haversham!” Cordie said, affection evident in her voice. “What a pleasant surprise to see you here.”
Bella knew the earl and countess counted themselves amongst the marquess’ friends, but it was still difficult to believe. The Clayworths seemed so upstanding, so respectable.
“Do you think me an uncultured boor?” Haversham kissed Cordie’s cheek in greeting.
“You know better than that.” She grinned up at him.
Then the scandalous marquess offered his hand to Clayworth. “Always good to see you, my friend.”
Cordie quickly introduced the marquess to the rest of them. “You know Gregory, of course.” Then she waved her hand toward Bella and Prissa. “And his betrothed Lady Arabella and her sister Lady Priscilla.”
“Charmed,” the man replied before turning his attention back to the earl and countess. “But what I’ve been wondering for some time is who that scowling fellow is that’s been following you?”
Someone had been following them? Bella glanced behind them and…Goodness! What in the world was Johann doing there?
Her cousin was toward the far side of the gallery, his large arms folded across his chest, and he was glaring quite angrily in her direction. A feeling of doom washed over her.