Free The Portrait by Judith B. Glad Page B

flowers. Why should he go to such effort when all he had
to do was buy her from her parents?
    His gaze held mine. The warmth flared into heat, suffusing my entire body, until I felt a
faint sheen of perspiration upon my upper lip and between my breasts.
    "Don't move! No, don't close your mouth either." His hand swept over the paper,
moving with the speed of a darting hummingbird. As he worked, he muttered to himself. I heard
only the occasional word. They made little sense. At least he no longer held me captive with his
gaze.
    "Enticing...that little curve...there, now to...slight slant...no! Innocent seduction..." After
a interminable time, he looked at me again. "Stick out your tongue."
    "I beg your pardon!"
    "Don't poker up that way. Keep your chin up. That outraged expression is perfect, but I
want you to part your lips even more. Just enough to show your tongue in the corner. No, not that
far out. Just the tip of it, as if in invitation... Yes! That's perfect."
    He resumed sketching. After a moment he tore off that sheet and let it fly to join the
first. His hand, holding the charcoal stick, scarcely paused. "Unconscious...unawakened...capture
that innocence...the potential of great...aha! Got it!" He tossed the charcoal stick onto the table.
"Rest now," he told me as he stepped back. "Get down, move around. Swing your arms."
    Of course I did no such thing. I slipped from the stool and walked over to the windows
where I stood looking down in to the small garden at the back of our house.
    "Are you as innocent as you appear, I wonder?"
    I started, not having heard him approach. His breath was warm on my nape. I could feel
the heat of his body just behind me--not touching, but so close that he might as well have been. I
fought the urge to lean into his warmth, to relax against him. How I hungered for the gentle
touch of a hand, for the comfort of another body against mine.
    His hands cupped my shoulders lightly, not really clasping. Barely turning my head, I
looked down to the left. His fingers were long, his nails cut square. Black charcoal marked
thumb and forefinger, as if he'd used the tips to smudge the lines he had drawn.
    "Come," he said in a near-whisper. "You must move. You've been sitting still too
long."
    His hands slid lightly down to grasp my wrists and he lifted them upwards, until my
arms were stretched out at shoulder height. "Stretch," he said, and I felt the curls over my ears
flutter.
    "Bend." One arm went around my waist and the other hand pushed between my shoulder
blades. My spine stretched as he bent me forward.
    For an instant my bottom brushed his body.
    I leapt forward, colliding with the wall. "How dare you!" I gasped as I turned to face
him.
    His mobile lips were spread in a wide grin. "I got you moving, didn't I? No, don't stop.
Walk the perimeter of this room, twice. Swing your arms as you do."
    I obeyed, but it did not satisfy him. "Swing, girl! You mince like a puppet on a too-short
string. Big steps. Wide swings. Lift your chin. One. Two. One. Two."
    I marched as commanded.
    On the second circuit of the large room I realized that I felt better than I had since
coming to London. Used to daily tramps, I had initially champed at the restrictions that kept me
in the house, unless I traveled with Mother to a modiste's shop, always in a carriage. I was
drawing deep breaths, and my shoulders felt loose and relaxed. Not waiting for his command, I
began a third circuit.
    "Enough. You may halt now." He pointed me back to the stool. "Face the window this
time. A little more. So." He walked all around me. "Hmmm. Lay one finger across your lips. No.
as if you were shushing someone. Yes, like that. Now don't move."
    Back to his easel, and again the scritch-scritch of charcoal on paper was the
only sound in the room.
    The chime of the clock broke the silence. 'Twas noon, and my first sitting was over. My
virtue was still intact, and I had discovered that Mr. Sutherland was not the ogre I had feared.
Abrupt