Free Waltz With a Stranger by Pamela Sherwood Page A

eyes. “Enchanted, Miss Aurelia.” The painter bowed over her hand as well and smiled more warmly this time; the effect was little short of dazzling. “I hear you’ve been abroad and have just recently returned to London.”
    “Very recently,” Aurelia confessed. “I arrived only yesterday. Before, I was at Bad Ems.”
    He regarded her keenly. “Your sojourn there appears to have done you a world of good.”
    “Thank you, it did.” Somewhat to her surprise, Aurelia felt neither threatened nor offended by his scrutiny. But there was no malice in Sheridan’s assessing gaze, though it seemed to encompass her every feature, scar and all.
    “Pardon me, Miss Aurelia,” he began, “but if I may take the liberty?”
    He meant to touch her, she realized. Too astonished even to consider refusing, she nodded bemused consent. Much in the way Claudine had done, Sheridan slipped a finger beneath her chin and tipped her face up to the light; his touch was gentle, even respectful, despite his own acknowledgment of taking liberties.
    “Very clever,” he said, after a moment. “One might even say artistic—the effect of the hair and the earrings.” He brushed a finger against one of the teardrop pearls dangling from her ears before releasing her chin.
    “Thank you,” Aurelia said, a little uncertainly. “A friend of mine—a Frenchwoman—gave me some advice on both.”
    “Ah, that explains it. Frenchwomen have a matchless sense of style.”
    “They do, indeed. When I visit Paris, I can’t help feeling like a frump by comparison, no matter how well I dress,” Aurelia confessed.
    “If it’s any consolation, you don’t look like one,” he assured her. “In fact, I would say you embody the best of both worlds: the sophistication of the Old and the freshness of the New.”
    Aurelia felt herself coloring, not just at the compliment but at the open admiration she saw in those penetrating green eyes. Charm to spare , she thought, and a way of making you feel as if you were the only person in the room . She wondered why Amy disliked him so.
    “Thomas, would you kindly refrain from flirting with my future sister-in-law—at least, not quite so blatantly?” Trevenan’s amused tone seemed laced with a faint irritation.
    “Slander, James!” Sheridan protested. He gave Aurelia another winning smile. “I assure you, Miss Aurelia, I intend nothing so idle and frivolous as mere flirtation. To be completely frank, I should like to paint you.”
    “Paint me?” Aurelia echoed, astonished. “Good heavens, why?”
    “Why not?” he retorted. “As it happens, I am always looking for new faces to paint. And not just pretty ones, though yours is certainly that,” he added hastily. “Interesting ones—the kind that capture and hold the eye, that compel one to look more closely.”
    “You think I have such a face?” Aurelia tried not to sound as incredulous as she felt.
    “Without a doubt. Your eyes and mouth are very expressive, and that’s what I look for in a model. I’ve seen Society beauties with perfect features but no animation whatsoever,” he went on. “Like wax dolls. And then I’ve seen ordinary, even plain, women whose faces were so mobile, so alive with every thought and emotion, that I could not look away.”
    “Oh, my,” Aurelia said faintly. “I don’t know what to say, Mr. Sheridan.”
    “Say that you’ll consider it?” he persisted. “And perhaps allow me the chance to persuade you over tea?”
    “I believe I’m supposed to say that,” Trevenan interposed with some acerbity. “Ladies, I was just about to ask if you would care for tea, once we were finished here.”
    “Tea sounds delightful, my lord,” Amy replied at once, giving him a brilliant smile. “And I am quite ready to take some refreshment now. What about you, Relia?”
    “Yes, yes, of course,” Aurelia said hurriedly. “Why don’t we all go?” she added, not wishing to snub Mr. Sheridan.
    “Indeed.” Trevenan turned to