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“Twenty cents or so,” he said with a shrug. “Fifty, perhaps, if you wanted me to add more than a simple accent color to your clothing or some rouge to your cheeks.”

Agnes smiled wickedly. “Could you perhaps add a hint of green to my face instead? I’d like to remind William of how he makes me feel most of the time—which is nauseated.”

Andrew pursed his lips, clearly struggling to contain a smile. Edwin mirrored the expression but couldn’t hold back a snort. Agnes truly was something else.

“Yes, I can do that,” Andrew finally said. “It would require some extra time, though. I have to stain the print itself, which will take multiple applications and washes, so it might not be ready until the very end of the week. Given that, would you still be interested?”

“Definitely.”

“All right, perfect. I’ll bring both photographs to you on Friday, maybe?”

“I’ll be home,” she confirmed.

Thank God that was settled. Once again, Edwin turned to leave. But Agnes stopped him.

“Edwin, we should have Andrew take your photograph as well,” she said.

Edwin whirled back around to face her.

“No. No, no. I—no.”

“Why not?” she asked.

“It’s . . . I mean, I’m not prepared.”

“What’s to prepare? You look perfect. Or, you will once you take off that overcoat,” she said. “Won’t he, Andrew?”

Andrew’s sudden horrified expression likely matched Edwin’s own.

“Oh. Uhm. Yes.” He paused and nodded, keeping his eyes trained on Edwin. “Edwin looks . . . perfect.”

Edwin’s heart stuttered.

Holy hell.

Agnes continued on, none the wiser. “Besides, Mother would love a photograph of you. It’s not like she has one that’s . . . recent. One that’s . . . well, you know what I’m trying to say.”

Edwin winced. Dammit, Agnes wasn’t going to let up, was she? Of course Edwin had been cursed with the most stubborn sister alive. Ridiculous.

“Fine,” Edwin clipped in a terse tone.

He started to remove his outerwear. His fingers moved tempestuously as he worked to free the buttons from the holes. After shrugging off the coat, he slammed the cuff onto a hook, stuffing the fabric in between the metal pieces rather than even bother trying to hang it in a civilized manner. How he hated this. He hated knowing that he’d have to sit in a chair, attempting to look unfazed while Andrew focused on him so intently. Dread and irritation and embarrassment began to flow through him in equal measure as he skulked over to the seating area while smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit jacket. He sat with a huff.

“Let’s get it over with,” he said.

Andrew scrambled to remove a glass plate from the pile and began cleaning it, his movements much more frantic now as he ran a brush over its surface. Edwin might have felt bad about it if he wasn’t so flustered himself. Soon, he’d be subjected to looking into Andrew’s beautiful eyes some more as Andrew positioned him on a piece of furniture or focused the lens or whatever else. And, oh God, there was almost no chance that he wouldn’t be blushing madly the entire time. Already Edwin could feel the heat starting to creep up his neck, that smoldering fire of desire rekindling in his chest.

No matter how much Edwin seemed to fight it, he couldn’t help but find Andrew intriguing. And no matter how much he tried to pretend otherwise, he could sense that Andrew found him intriguing in return.

But what would Andrew think if he ever found out what type of man Edwin was? Would Andrew still find him worthy of like? Of want? Edwin couldn’t imagine stomaching the possibility of ever putting himself in a position to find out.

Edwin shut his eyes and took a breath. When Andrew came over to instruct him on his positioning, he complied without hesitation. And then, once Andrew left to focus the camera, Edwin stayed as still as he could, keeping his eyes squarely on the lens itself and not letting them flit over to Andrew, even for a moment. Afterward, Andrew left to prepare the plate. And Edwin tried to ignore the fact that his hands were trembling.

Andrew returned with that flat, wooden box and placed it in the camera.

“Are you ready, Edwin?”

Edwin was very much not ready. He never would be.