Page 3 of Real Earls Break the Rules

He bent to retrieve another bowl and handed it to her. Her grip felt weak. Her gaze dropped to the dip in his chin, and she wondered what it would feel like to press her lips there.

His eyes sparkled, and he looked at her as if he knew her wicked thoughts and was more than capable of satisfying them in pleasurable detail.

Goodness.

“The truth is I came by today to see you,” he said.

She blinked. “Me?”

“There’s a private matter I wish to discuss with you. A request that I believe we’ll both find satisfying.”

Did he wish to court her? The notion sent a thrill down her spine.

Don’t be ridiculous! She suppressed the wayward thought. He was an earl, and she possessed neither a title nor a dowry.

“What type of private matter?” she asked.

“I was taken with the quality of your artwork at the Peacock Print Shop when I visited a while back,” he said.

A sliver of trepidation ran down her spine. Amelia had been embroiled up to her neck in trouble when she had first met him. She had painted a forgery and sold it to an elderly viscount at an urgent time when they needed funds. For years, the forgery was in a viscount’s private collection until he died.

They had been in a panic. If the painting had been discovered to be a forgery, it could have been traced back to them. Fortunately, Lord Huntingdon had purchased the painting before he’d married her sister, Eliza. But for a time, Amelia feared imprisonment for her crime.

Was that what Vale was referring to?

“Lord Vale, I don’t know what you intend, but our circumstances were different when you visited the shop a year ago. I haven’t sold a painting in a long while.”

“You misunderstand. I’m looking to commission a couple of paintings.”

Her brow furrowed. “I could give you the names of London artists.”

He shook his head. “I’m not interested in names.”

“Then what?”

“There is a landscape painting by the Dutch artist Aelbert Cuyp at Rosehill titled Herdsmen with Cows. A while back a friend, a wealthy American, visited me and now wants the painting for his private collection. I want to gift the painting to him, but I’d like a copy to remain at Rosehill. I want you to paint me one.”

She stiffened. “You want me to paint a forgery?”

“No. A copy. I would never ask you to paint a forgery. I plan to give my friend the original and keep the copy for myself. My motives are twofold. I may not be an art critic like Huntingdon, but I’ve grown accustomed to the painting hanging in the library and wish for a duplicate. Second, my grandmother, the dowager, would frown upon me giving anything to an American. If an exact copy remains hanging in Rosehill, she will never know. So you see, I need you. Your specific talent is not commonplace.”

A tumble of confused thoughts and feelings assailed her. She should be insulted. He’d sought her out because of her past, because her father’s blood ran in her veins. But deep down a part of her was flattered. He’d come to her because he knew she had the talent to replicate the most intricate paintings. He wasn’t asking her to do anything illegal—he wanted a copy, not a forgery. It made sense. Why would an earl want a forgery? She was familiar with Aelbert Cuyp’s seventeenth century work. It wouldn’t take her long to paint the piece.

Goodness, was she truly considering his request?

She hesitated, measuring him for a moment. “You mentioned paintings. What else?”

An easy smile played at the corners of his mouth. “I’d like to commission you to paint my portrait.”

The bowl slipped from her fingers to thump on the lawn. “Pardon?” This second request was much more shocking in ways that alternately thrilled and frightened her.

“It’s simple, really. All the past earls in my family have their portraits hanging in Rosehill’s portrait gallery. It’s tradition. I want you to paint mine.”

Oh, to have a chance! She’d already believed he would make a stunning model, and her face heated at the thought of capturing his image on canvas. Lord Vale wasn’t just a handsome man, but a complex and mysterious one. Beneath the polished veneer, she suspected there was so much more…

What was she thinking? He was asking her to do something beyond her capability. She couldn’t even consider it.

“I’m astonished by this request, my lord.”