Page 85 of The Muse of Maiden Lane

Julia’s brows flew up. “Did he, by heaven? What extraordinary cheek!” She reduced Cossack to a walk, giving Stella her undivided attention.

Evie did the same with Hephaestus, her hazel eyes alert.

Stella turned Locket in a half circle to quiet her before resuming her place among her friends. “He didn’t mean it as an insult. If you saw his work, you’d recognize it as a singular honor.”

“Still,” Evie said sensibly, “modeling for a painting isn’t advisable, is it? Not when you have your reputation to consider.”

“Artists’ models have a reputation all their own,” Julia added. “And not one any young lady would aspire to.”

“Yes, I realize. Which is precisely why I told him no.” Stella paused. “Initially.”

Julia and Evie both burst into conversation at the same time.

“You haven’t agreed to pose for him!” Julia exclaimed.

“If this is about earning enough money to support yourself—” Evie began.

“It isn’t wholly about money,” Stella cut in. “Though, he did offer to pay me.”

Julia’s mouth fell open. “Good heavens, Stella. How is that not an insult?”

“I doubt he intended it to be,” Evie said. “On the few occasions we met, Mr. Hayes impressed me with his single-minded attention to art. Other concerns didn’t seem to enter his mind.”

“They don’t,” Stella said. “He’s rather plainspoken, in fact. I initially thought it impertinence, but I believe it’s owing to his passion for his work—and to his condition.”

“He had a fever as a boy that paralyzed his legs,” Evie explained to Julia. “That’s what Mr. Malik told me.”

“Not as a young boy,” Stella said. “Indeed, Mr. Hayes hasn’t been in his chair above five years.”

“How old is he?” Julia asked.

“Four-and-twenty,” Stella answered promptly.

Evie and Julia exchanged a glance.

Stella knew what they must be thinking. “We found ourselves in each other’s company a good deal at Sutton Park,” she explained. “And Mr. Hayes is remarkably candid.”

A cool wind rustled the branches of the trees lining the path ahead of them. More riders were approaching, and one of them coming at a quick clip. It was an older man on a dun gelding, posting at an extended trot. He touched his crop to the brim of his tall hat in a silent salute as he rode by.

The three of them inclined their heads in distracted acknowledgment.

“Is that all that inspired such confidences?” Evie asked after the rider had passed. “Mr. Hayes’s propensity for candor?”

“That and his desire to paint me,” Stella said. “He’s invited me to visit his studio on Monday afternoon. I’ve said that I will. He’ll be coming to collect me at the hotel.”

“Goodness,” Julia breathed.

“This begins to sound more and more like a courtship,” Evie said.

“It’s not a courtship, I promise you,” Stella informed them before they could get too carried away. “It’s about art, that’s all. Mr. Hayes is at great pains to convince me to sit for him. There’s nothing else to it.”

“So…” Julia’s brow puckered. “He only sees you in terms of how you might appear on his canvas?”

Stella hesitated before answering. The truth was, she didn’t know how Teddy saw her. All the compliments he’d lavished on her had been in relation to her charms as a potential model.

Except for what he’d written to her about their kiss.

He’d said it was a pleasure of a precious sort. More precious than the pleasures he’d shared with his Parisienne muses.