Free Sweet Hoyden by Rachelle Edwards

forgive
Asheville
for this."
    Pandora told Jeanne who had accompanied her to the showing. "Mr.
Lawrence is in the process of painting my portrait. At least he was, for I
cannot conceive when it might be finished now. I know he wished to show it here
today."
    'When it is completed, I do not doubt it will rival Lady Courdon's,"
Jeanne replied, exhibiting more diplomacy than was usual for her.
    As Pandora moved around the room inspecting the exhibits, it was now
becoming easier for her to greet others as Louise de Chambray, for many were
coming to know the beautiful comtesse. The tale of her desperate flight from
France
had
caught the imagination of all who heard it.
    'You know, Jeanne, I am growing accustomed to being looked upon as Madame de
Chambray. Everyone admires her as they never did me, so before long I may
decide to remain an emigre Frenchwoman and never return to being Lady
Asheville."
    The girl looked shocked. "You cannot mean that, ma'am. What of Lord
Asheville?"
    'It is thoughts of my husband that prompt the comment, my dear. Imagine his
perplexity when his wife disappears forever without a trace. He would discover
himself in an impossible position, and most deservedly so."
    'I think you are too hard on him, ma'am. Moreover, I am of the opinion you
could not do it."
    Pandora sighed. "Mayhap you are correct, but it is diverting to
contemplate." As she passed Fanny Courdon, she murmured, "Mon amie, vous Ues ravissante."
    'Merci, madame," the marchioness responded, smiling sweetly.
    Although she was reluctant to do so, Pandora felt bound to study the
portrait at length, which did nothing to salve her displeasure. In her opinion
Fanny Courdon had been flattered to a great and unfair degree by the artist,
making her appear far more fetching than Pandora considered her to be.
    'What do you think of the prize exhibit, madame?"
    She turned sharply at the sound of the earl's voice close to her ear. The
sight of him always discomposed her now, just as it had done in the early days
of their courtship. Then, his air of aloofness attracted her, quite different
as it was to the gushing of the others who pursued her. Now, his inscrutability
angered her, but all at once there was no strength to her wrath. The desire to
pay him back in some measure was much stronger in her and growing daily.
    'It is quite splendid," she answered, masking her ire successfully and
appearing relaxed.
    'I couldn't agree more," the earl mused as he further studied the
painting. "Mr. Lawrence has captured the essential radiance about
her."
    Now Pandora couldn't quite mask her annoyance. She clucked her tongue,
which made the earl look at her curiously. "You made some comment,
madame?"
    Pandora cleared her throat. "Oh, indeed. It has occurred to me that,
having seen her at close quarters, Lady Courdon is so fetching, no painter
could possibly do her full justice," The remark cost her dearly in pride,
but she reckoned it was all in a just cause.
    'I believe you are correct there, madame," he answered, studying the
work with great interest. "Lady Courdon is a most fascinating creature, I
must own."
    'I cannot comment upon that, for I do not know the lady except in
passing," Pandora replied, her tone dripping with ice.
    'A closer acquaintance would be most rewarding, I assure you. It is my
privilege to know her rather well."
    Pandora was tempted to slap his satisfied face, or at least stamp her foot
on the floor in anger, but she was, naturally, obliged to restrain herself. Moments
later the earl went on, "Mr. Gainsborough painted my portrait some years
ago, and I was very pleased with the result. Now Mr. Lawrence
is in the process of painting my wife's portrait."
    'It is to be hoped you will be as pleased with the result as you are with
Lady Courdon's portrait," she answered with some asperity.
    'I dare say I will be, for my wife has a comeliness which many find
pleasing. It is intended that the two portraits, mine and hers, hang together
at Brocklesby