Free Anne Barbour by A Man of Affairs Page B

unsettling. After gesturing him to a comfortable chair near the window, she fiddled with her brushes for a moment and repositioned the easel.
    "I would offer you some refreshment, but there is no bellpull in this room—and in any event, I do not like to encourage the servants to come up here. However—" From a small cupboard nearby, she produced a flask half full of a murky liquid. "I do have some lemon water." She eyed it dubiously.  "It's been here awhile."
    "Mm, yes. I believe I'll pass," he said solemnly. "I am not very thirsty, you see."
    "No, I don't suppose you are," Eden returned with equal gravity, glancing again at the lemon water. "Well, then—"
    "If you don't mind, I'll just peruse this volume on, ah, Analysis of Beauty. Since it was written by Hogarth, it should be worth investigating."
    "Oh, yes, Hogarth is one of my favorites. The last time we were in London, I studied his Shrimp Girl for hours at the Royal Academy Gallery. He has the most marvelous gift for portraying the character and personality of his subjects."
    She turned to arrange her subject, a bouquet of wild flowers that had been thrust with deceptive carelessness into a crude pottery pitcher. As Eden seated herself at her easel, however, an idea occurred to her.
    "I wonder ..." she said to Seth. "Instead of your simply sitting there, occupying yourself with a book in which I'm sure you have little interest, would you consider posing for me?"
    Seth gaped. "Me? You want me to pose for a portrait?"
    "Well, yes—but I'd like it to be more of a study. In pastels, I think, since there will not be time to do an oil painting. Frankly, I rarely have an opportunity to draw males, and—and oh, the facial planes, the clothing, and even the curve of the hair."
    "Of course," said Seth in some amusement. "Would you like me to remove my coat?"
    Eden blushed to the roots of her hair. "Oh, no! That wouldn't be ... Or..." She almost gasped at her own temerity. "Yes, that would be most... instructive. No, leave the waistcoat," she added hurriedly as he slid out of his elegantly tailored coat of superfine and began on the buttons of a superb waistcoat of mulberry silk. "It will make a nice contrast to all that white. Now, if you will just sit right here. I think we will face you three-quarters away from the light. Yes, just right. With this piece of pasteboard as a reflector. And, if you would not mind, may we dispense with the cravat, as well?"
    Once more astonished at her own boldness, she took the cravat from him, and when he put his fingers to the three buttons that closed his shirt, she nodded encouragingly. When the muscular column of his throat was exposed, she gazed unabashedly and reached to grasp him lightly by the shoulders. Seth glanced at her in some startlement, but she merely turned him this way and that until he was posed to her satisfaction.
    Really, Eden thought dazedly, whatever did she think she was about—closeting herself with a gentleman not related to her? She had all but forced him to disrobe for her, and she had never been in the presence of a man in such a state of dishabille. If anyone were to come upon them—well, such a circumstance was highly unlikely, but it would be disastrous if she and Seth were discovered behind closed doors. Before seating herself, Eden moved to fling open the schoolroom door. And when, she reflected distractedly, had she started thinking of him as Seth rather than Mr. Lindow? She had been uncomfortably conscious of the warmth of his skin and the taut frame beneath her fingers, a reaction she certainly had not experienced when posing the little Stebbins boy or the Matchingham sisters.
    She gave herself a shake and turned her mind firmly to the business at hand. For an hour, she worked to create a likeness of Seth on a square of drawing paper. At her suggestion, he rolled up the sleeves of the shirt, and she marveled at the strength of his forearms, so like and yet so different from the anatomy of the female