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Immediately upon arrival at their residence, Lady Catherine briskly thanked him and excused herself on the grounds of a brewing headache. As Sir Geoffrey Lowther was not at home, there was no possibility of his remaining—no accident, he was sure. It was of no consequence.
“Miss Lowther, it has been a true pleasure.” He bowed deeply before her. “I wish you a pleasant evening and look forward to seeing you again soon.”
Their eyes met as she curtsied, her blue ones full of wry amusement. She was doubtless in store for a long diatribe the moment her stepmother got her behind closed doors. “Likewise,” she replied softly.
“Eden, come,” fussed Lady Catherine. “The air grows colder by the minute. You’ve been out of doors quite enough for one day. I’ll not have you catching a chill.”
Casting him one last reluctant look, Eden dutifully followed. He waited until the front door shut behind her before turning away.
He looked at his watch. “Take me to Hennell’s,” he instructed his driver. There was just enough time to see about a promissory token of affection. When Monday came, he meant to be prepared.
The sun was just setting by the time he reached home, well satisfied with his day’s work. As he was debarking, he noticed his neighbor, Will Hogarth, coming out. He signaled his driver to wait. “Will, my friend!” he called with a smile. “How is it with you this evening?”
Coming over, Will clasped hands with him. “Very bad, I’m afraid. Very bad, indeed. Jackanapes that he is, Morris has declined the work for which he commissioned my services. The blackguard had the impertinence to claim he was misled into believing me a painter when in fact I’m an engraver by trade. On such grounds has he refused to pay my fee, though anyone can see my work is exemplary. You yourself expressed great admiration for the piece. I intend to take the matter before the court and see his decision overturned.”
Percy frowned at his friend’s distress. “Might I be of assistance to you in the pursuit of justice? I have many friendly connections at Westminster.”
Will’s face lit with surprise, and he nodded. “I should greatly appreciate any assistance you may render.”
“If you will give me a fortnight, I shall speak on your behalf to the lords in my acquaintance and prepare them to hear your complaint.”
“I am your most humble servant,” said Will, his relief evident in the deep bow he swept. He straightened, wearing a broad smile. “But come, I was just leaving to temper my wrath with a pint or three.”
Percy grinned back. “The Jerusalem Tavern?”
“Just so.”
“It is my pleasure to accompany you.” He waved off the hired conveyance awaiting his friend. “Come, we’ll take mine.”
The two friends talked all the way to Britton Street. His friend’s woes went far deeper than a simple disagreement over his recent work. After several pints of London’s best, Percy made a decision. “Will, I would like to commission a portrait. Of a woman.” He waited as Will’s brows rose. “Miss Lowther. And it must be done in absolute secrecy.”
“I would be delighted. When may I arrange a sitting?”
Percy shook his head. “A sitting would be impossible. Neither she nor her family can know I’m doing this. As such, I’m afraid we shall have to devise a means for you to observe her covertly.”
Will drained his glass and licked his lips. “I’ll gladly don servants’ livery, if that is what is required, if only to see this female who has you so obsessed.”
A laugh borne of both frustration and joy burst from Percy’s throat. “By George, I believe you would! But that won’t be necessary—though I will hold the idea in reserve should my first strategy fail. First, let me see if I may influence Lady Sheffield to commission your services. I shall suggest a commemorative work. She’s to host a ball Thursday next, at which there is to be a happy announcement. If I can convince her to have you present, you should be able to observe the goings-on without suspicion, and at some point in the evening, I’ll bring Miss Lowther before you so you may see her.”
Will nodded, pulling at his beard thoughtfully. “Under such circumstances, you understand I shall only be able to render a hasty sketch. But provided the light is good and I’m able to make notes on her color, I should be able to do it.” He paused. “Would you like the portrait to include you at her side?”
He shook his head. “This painting is for me personally, and I have no wish to see myself in it. Perhaps when we are wed, I’ll have you paint us as a couple.”
The other man’s brows shot skyward. “You intend to marry this woman?”
“I do,” Percy replied, surety in his hasty decision growing with each passing moment. Instinct told him Eden would drive him mad as no other woman had. As ruination was not an option—she would never agree to become his mistress—he must have her by another means. Strangely, the idea of slipping the wedding shackle ’round his finger no longer inspired ambivalence.
His friend’s eyes bored into him, wise beyond their years. “Not to be indelicate, but I saw how you suffered the last time you thought you’d found love. How can you be certain she’s—”
“The right one?” he interrupted, impatient. “I just know.” At his friend’s askance look, he elaborated. “We complement each other exceedingly well. I’m comfortable with her in a way I haven’t been with any other woman. Not even her.”
He didn’t need to name any names with Will, who’d been among those friends to commiserate with him in his disappointment—most times in this very tavern. “I can speak my mind to Eden without fear, and she’s just as honest. Brutally so,” he added with a wry laugh. “Best of all, she accepts me as I am.”
Will shot him a dubious glance. “She accepts the parts of you she’s been allowed to see, you mean. Every man has his secrets.” He raised his glass. “As does every woman, I can assure you. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about people, it’s that they all have another face under the one they show the world. I often see it when I’m painting portraits.” His brow puckered. “Be sure you know what you’re getting yourself into, my friend. Haste makes almost as many fools of men as does love. Combine the two, and it can be disastrous.”
But it wasn’t love. He liked Eden, certainly. A lot. And he wanted her. Again, a lot. Sense told him they were a perfect match and love would grow with familiarity. “I know enough to be confident in my choice. There will be plenty of time to get to know each other more intimately after we’re married.”
