Lady Persephone nodded. “It is.” She gestured towards a painting on the wall. “I just recently painted that scene.”
Roswell shifted in his chair to face the painting, but couldn’t decipher what it was a scene of, as he was unable to make out any one particular feature. It was blotchy and looked as if a child had painted it.
Knowing Lady Persephone was awaiting his assessment, Roswell commented, “It is lovely.”
“I had an excellent teacher who taught me the finer points of painting with watercolor,” Lady Persephone shared, her eyes lingering on the painting. “It was rather challenging to paint a windmill.”
A windmill? Where in the blazes was a windmill in that painting? He squinted his eyes, but Roswell still couldn’t see it.
“You did an admirable job,” he lied.
Lady Persephone turned her attention back towards him. “Would you like me to paint you one?”
No. “I couldn’t possibly impose,” he attempted.
“It is really no imposition at all,” Lady Persephone said. “I believe it is best for a talent to be shared, not hidden.”
He brought a smile to his face. “You make a good argument.”
“Then I shall paint you a scene of our gardens.”
“Wonderful.” He took a sip of his drink.
Leaning forward, Lady Persephone put her teacup back on the tray. “There is a delightful spot in our gardens with a babbling brook running through it.”
“That sounds heavenly.”
“It is,” she replied. “Would you care to see it?”
“I would, but I’m afraid I must be going.”
A pout came to Lady Persephone’s lips. “Must you?” she asked. “You have only just arrived.”
“I’m afraid I am needed at the House of Lords.” Roswell put his empty teacup on the tray and rose.
Rising, Lady Persephone asked, “May I walk you to the door?”
“You may,” Roswell answered, offering his arm to her.
“I do thank you for the flowers you sent,” she said as they strolled towards the door.
“I am pleased that you enjoyed them.”
“Will you be attending Lady Elizabeth Barrow’s ball tomorrow evening?”
Roswell shook his head. “I will not, but I have no doubt that my mother and sister will be attending.”
“Don’t you need to escort them?”
“My brother, Charles, does a fine job of that.”
Lady Persephone’s lips went back to pouting. “I had been hoping to dance with you again,” she said flirtatiously.
“I’m afraid it will have to be at another time.”
He stopped in front of the door and dropped his arm. “I enjoyed our time together.”
“It was much too brief for my taste,” she remarked. “I wish you would stay longer.”
