Page 6 of The Muse of Maiden Lane

Laura’s brows flew up. She’d listened to Teddy lament losing his muse for the past three months. She, of all people, knew what it had meant to him. “You found her! Oh, Teddy—”

“Yes, I found her, only to lose her again.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, wreaking havoc with his carefully pomaded locks. “I’ve frightened her away.”

His sister perched on the edge of a nearby chair. Her manner was immediately consoling. “You couldn’t frighten anyone.”

“I’ve scandalized her, then.”

“She can hardly be scandalized easily if she’s taken to dying her hair,” Laura pointed out.

Teddy couldn’t deny the truth in the statement. He knew enough of ladies—and of respectable society—to understand that dying one’s hair was considered as unseemly as painting one’s face. But Miss Hobhouse was surely an exception to the rule. She wasn’t using cosmetics to gild the proverbial lily. Rather, the reverse. In coloring her hair, she was attempting to make herself ordinary. He recognized the fact, even if he couldn’t entirely wrap his mind around it.

“I don’t imagine she expected to see anyone here that she knew,” he said.

“She must know someone,” Laura replied. “How else could she have been invited?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“Did you at least catch her name?”

“Miss Hobhouse,” he said.

He didn’t share her first name. Stella, for star. It was too intimate. Too perfect. He wanted to hold it close, if only for a short while longer. It was a foolish, romantic impulse, and all of a piece with the rest of this infernal business. He’d been romanticizing his silver-haired stranger since the moment he’d first clapped eyes on her.

“She’s the sister of a clergyman, apparently,” he added.

“I see.” A lengthy pause. “She’s very pretty.”

“She is,” he agreed sullenly. “Much good that does me.”

Again, Laura smiled. “Don’t be so downhearted. She’s here at Sutton Park, isn’t she? You’ll have ample opportunity to take her likeness over Christmas.”

“Take being the operative word. She’s not given her permission.”

“There are ways to make allowances for that.”

“Such as?”

“You could alter her face before you commit your preliminary sketch to canvas. That would be a way of respecting—”

“I want all of her,” Teddy interrupted impatiently. “Her face. Her figure. Her silver hair. That’s my star. It must be all or nothing.”

Laura’s forehead etched with concern. “What can I do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nonsense. I can easily make her acquaintance. Once I do—”

“You can what? Facilitate a friendship between us?” Teddy scoffed. “No, thank you.”

He may not be as independent as he’d like, but he was still a man. He wouldn’t have his older sister acting as an intermediary with a young lady. Not this young lady, anyway.

“I shall simply have to try again on my own,” he said. “I’ll exercise more tact in future. Try not to scare her.”

“You have an entire week to implement your strategy.”

His mouth twitched. He knew when his sister was quizzing him. “Strategy, is it? You’ve been married to Alex too long. Where is he, by the way?”

“When last I saw him, he was talking with one of the gentlemen naturalists about soil acidity.”