Page 41 of Real Earls Break the Rules

“What changed between you?” Amelia asked.

“Whenever we were together there was sizzle. Like an undeniable magnetism. I couldn’t resist him.”

Sweet Lord. It sounded like what she’d felt when Brandon kissed her.

Eliza sighed. “The only other bachelor at the house party is Lord Vale.”

Amelia shifted on the mattress. Guilt pierced her chest. She should tell Eliza about her clandestine visits to paint Brandon’s portrait and a copy of the Cuyp landscape. She’d never lied to her sister before. They’d been comrades in deception for years after their father had left. Three young, unmarried women would have faced tremendous prejudice as proprietors of a business. In order to survive, Eliza had reinvented herself as a widow. It had been ingenious and courageous.

So how could she keep her nighttime activities secret from Eliza now?

Because she wouldn’t understand.

Eliza was a businesswoman at heart. She wasn’t an artist. She’d never experienced the creative thrill of the brushstroke or the magic of watercolors or oils on canvas. She’d never spent hours laboring over a painting overwhelmed by hard work but refusing to rest until her vision was complete. She’d never been obsessed with every stroke, which could feel as difficult as lifting a mountain or as thrilling as floating on wispy clouds. It was joy. It was agony.

It was art.

Amelia could simply tell Eliza that she missed painting. But her sister knew that Amelia continued to paint for herself. The truth was she missed painting for a purpose. For years she’d sold her work at their print shop. Granted she’d used false names when she’d signed her paintings, and the people who’d purchased her work had believed the artist was male.

But she’d sold her artwork.

The validation meant her art was worth something and not just a female’s passing fancy or hobby. And most importantly, she’d helped the family put food on the table and coal in the grate. It had all been one step closer to having her own art exhibition and displaying her artwork of London’s poor. Marriage would cripple her dreams. Only as a spinster could she keep her freedom and pursue her heart’s desire.

“After tonight’s musical debacle, I believe the dowager and duchess seek a match between Lord Vale and Lady Minerva,” Eliza said.

Amelia looked at her sister in surprise. She wasn’t expecting the news. She knew Minerva was enamored of Lord Vale, but she didn’t realize both families wanted a match.

“I see,” Amelia muttered.

Eliza kissed Amelia’s cheek and went to the door. “Don’t fret, Amelia. All is not lost. There will be plenty of available gentlemen when we return to London.”

Amelia stared at the door after her sister departed, her thoughts turning in her mind.

Eliza’s statement didn’t make sense. The duchess and dowager may seek a match, but Brandon didn’t seem overly interested in Lady Minerva. If anything, he’d looked annoyed by her constant attention on the archery field. He hadn’t jumped at her request for a private garden tour. Instead he’d offered to take all the ladies.

The only female he’d shown interest in was Amelia herself.

Was she mistaken?

Nothing could come of it. She was his guest during the day and his employee at night. If she were smart, she would wish him and Lady Minerva well. She needed to think of her future—her art and her goals. Not about a troubled earl with enigmatic green eyes.

Chapter Fourteen

Amelia stood before her easel and pretended to paint while her thoughts warred between attraction and resistance.

“Is something amiss?” Brandon asked her as he held his usual pose against the desk.

She set down her brush, which hadn’t been doing her much good this evening, and bit her lower lip. “I came close to having my sister discover our arrangement tonight.”

“Chloe?”

“No. Eliza. She walked into my bedchamber just as I reached for the latch to open the passageway.”

Brandon frowned. “Huntingdon would have my head if he knew.”

“He still doesn’t know?” The earls were close friends, and she’d assumed they had talked by now and Huntingdon knew she was painting in secret.

“He knows that my grandmother wants my portrait painted to add to Rosehill’s portrait gallery. When I’d mentioned hiring you, he protested quite vehemently. I can’t say I blame him. After all, he’s your brother-in-law and he wants to please his countess.”