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“And you not much better.”
He laughed as he rapped his cane on the door again. “Carpe diem.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Seize the day, Miss Drake.”
He started to hit his cane again, but the door swung open and a man with graying brown hair stared at them. Emma’s mouth gaped slightly at the sight of the disheveled man. He wore a linen shirt open to his chest, a pair of black trousers covered in paint, and looked as if he hadn’t shaved in at least three days. This was the man Oliver thought should give her lessons?
“Bowles!” Oliver said, pushing past the man.
“Mr. Lancaster, what are you doing here?” Bowles asked before motioning Emma to enter too.
Emma’s mouth had barely returned to its closed position when she went slack-jawed to see a naked woman picking up a dressing gown. The woman turned and smiled over at her. Emma attempted to get her mouth shut as she stared at the young, blonde woman. Emma was sure the woman couldn’t be more than twenty, and yet, Mr. Bowles appeared to be at least twice her age.
“Are you his next model?”
“I beg your pardon?” Emma asked in a horrified tone.
The woman scanned Emma from head to toe. “I suppose you ain’t with those expensive clothes. Just as well. I ain’t ready to give up my little puss-puss yet.”
Mr. Bowles walked over to the woman and kissed her soundly. “And I am not ready to give you up either.” He looked at Oliver and Emma. “This is Lizzy Jones. Lizzy, this is one of my former students, Mr. Lancaster and...”
Bowles’ voice trailed off as if to remind Oliver that Emma had not been introduced.
“Excuse my manners,” Oliver muttered. “This is Miss Drake.”
“Mr. Lancaster. Miss Drake,” Lizzy said with a clumsy curtsy.
Emma did the same as she inched closer to the fire to warm herself.
“Lizzy, make us all some tea,” Bowles commanded to his model.
“Yes, sir.”
Emma was quite certain Lizzy was far more than his artistic model. She shivered, taking a step closer to the small fire burning in the hearth. The couple let the third floor of the building, but it was one large open room instead of various rooms as she was accustomed. At the far end of the room, a bed that would just fit two people stood with sheets and coverlet in a tangle. In the middle of the room, an easel with a half-finished painting of Lizzy in the nude took up a great deal of space. Against the wall, canvases and frames leaned haphazardly.
While in what must have been the attic of the original home, the lighting on this gray day was quite good. She could imagine how lovely the light must be on a sunny day. No wonder he lived and worked here.
“Do you have anything stronger than tea, Bowles? Emma and I are quite damp and cold.” Oliver took Emma’s cloak from her and set it closer to the fire to dry.
“I have two bottles of gin, but none of that lovely brandy we used to share when I was tutoring you.” Bowles walked to a small cabinet and grabbed a bottle and four glasses. After pouring the drinks, he handed one to each of them.
Emma sniffed it curiously. She had only eve
r had wine, brandy, and whisky.
“What shall we drink to?” Lizzy asked in an excited tone.
“A new student for you, Bowles,” Oliver said, holding up his glass.
Bowles stared at Oliver and then turned his gaze to Emma. “A new student?”
“Yes! Miss Drake would like to learn to paint in oils. I suggested you would be an excellent instructor.” Oliver still held his glass up, waiting for others to join in the celebratory drink.
Bowles’ brows furrowed. “I’ve never taught a lady. Besides, you can see, I’m working on my masterpiece. I need time to finish it.”
“This is your chance,” Oliver replied with a broad grin. “She is the sister to the Duchess of Worthington. And you would get to teach at the duke’s London home. Think of the possibilities. The duchess already has sired an heir, so if you do well with Miss Drake, the duchess may wish you to teach her son or some of the other children when they are old enough.”
