“For you, my lady. A token of my regard.”
“Oh!”
Once again, the room went silent. Charlotte glanced over at Gran, who mouthedTAKE IT!with wild eyes and absolutely no subtlety.
Charlotte looked down at the pouch and her heart began to pound, as it always did for jewelry. Rivières and sautoirs, silver filigreerings and bandeau tiaras, little gold earbobs and Gran’s wonderfully vulgar old paste stomacher—she adored them all. Especially any sort of gemstone tassel.
How could she resist a gift from Darlington, who made such glorious things?
Yet unfortunately, her stomach had other ideas. Despite Gran’s heated lectures and Lady Margot’s debt, Charlotte’s stomach found it difficult to accept jewelry from a man she intended to reject the moment they were alone together.
Still, it would be churlish not tolook.
She pulled the bag’s strings and what fell out into her hand was—
Charlotte bit back a startled laugh. Darlington had given her a large gold oval pendant, hung on a gold chain and set with a profile in diamond and jet.
Hisprofile.
“What a staggering piece, and so kind of you,” she said automatically, because itwaskind of Darlington. Though when had he made it, exactly? Oh God, did he carry aroundmultipleprofiles of himself, done up in gems and ready to press into adoring hands?
“Do pass it around,” drawled Warrick. “I’m sure we all want a closer look.”
“No, this one is for Lady Charlotte alone.” Darlington took the pendant from her and leaned down to fasten it carefully around her neck. “You can wear it. Always.”
“What a lovely thought,” squeaked Charlotte.
Darlington pressed a kiss to Charlotte’s hand and turned back to the others. “Now, shall we move on to my sketches?”
He whisked the velvet off the easel to present a stunning watercolor of the snake necklace. Then came the glowworm aigrette, rendered in full color against an inky black background salted with stars.
“This last piece is a new direction, and I intend to present it at court at the start of the next Season.” He turned his attention to Charlotte. “This piece is inspired byyou, my muse.”
But Charlotte was busy staring at the last watercolor, trying to understand. “You plan to make my feather brooch?”
“Yourfeather brooch? I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning.”
Charlotte blinked at the watercolor, then blinked back at him.
Darlington’s last painting was of her feather brooch—a pink feather with a darker pink shaft, from the roseate spoonbill bird, done up in what looked like beryl and pink sapphire. It was her feather, down to the curve at the tip and the darker pink streaks, drawn exactly the way it appeared on the damask she intended to sell when Monsieur LaForey finally got the Jacquard loom working.
Charlotte blinked once more. “I’d love to design a piece with you. I’d have to discussthisfeather with Josephine, though, because we’ve used it for—”
Darlington gave an ugly, coughing laugh. “Lady Charlotte, am I to believe you think you own the idea of a feather? You may have some small talent with a charcoal, but you’re not the only one inspired bybirds.”
Charlotte rose to her feet. “Lord Darlington, is this a jest? Have you been hiding a sense of humor all this time?”
“Pardon?”
“No, it’s a ridiculous question. There’s nothing to laugh at in you saying Iinspiredthat piece when we both know you stole it from me.”
Alexandra gasped, Elizabeth sat back in her chair, and the dowager sat forward.
“Warrick,dosomething,” she said, in one of her deafening whispers.
“For what purpose? Lady Charlotte doesn’t appear to need my help. Besides, I’m vastly entertained.”
Two slaps of red appeared on Darlington’s pale cheeks. “This isoutrageous! Lady Charlotte showed me a simple study.I’mthe one who—”
