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“’ Bout damned time,” Bowles commented before adding more to his glass.
Emma felt a warming sensation radiate from her belly.
“Have more,” Oliver mumbled and then drank his glass of gin.
“I think I’ve had enough.” Glancing up at the clock, she gasped. How had she lost the last two hours? “Oliver, we really must leave. My mother will be expecting me home. If I don’t arrive soon, she will send a footman to your father’s home asking for me.”
“I’m in no position to drive a carriage at the moment,” he replied, pouring more gin into his glass. “Besides, we’re having fun here.”
“Here, here,” Bowles added.
Emma glanced over at Lizzy, who had fallen asleep with her head on Bowles’ shoulder. “I must leave, Oliver. Now. I will drive the phaeton.”
“Ladies don’t drive carriages,” he said with a laugh.
“I can manage.” And it would be good practice for the carriage race.
“Stop talking about leaving,” Bowles said. “Tell me what you want to paint. Shall I bring Lizzy to model for you?”
“No!” She couldn’t imagine Louisa’s horror if Lizzy accompanied Bowles. At this moment, Emma wasn’t positive Bowles was the right art instructor. “I would like to paint portraits. I have some lovely sketches that I could work on.”
“Sounds dreadfully boring.” Bowles sipped at his gin as Oliver’s eyes closed again.
Emma scowled at the tiresome man. Surely, she could find a better instructor than Mr. Bowles. “Tell me, Mr. Bowles, how many paintings have you sold?”
“Enough to live here,” he retorted with a glassy glare before finishing his drink. “How many have you sold?”
Hearing the condescension in his voice, she smiled over at him. “Two.”
Perhaps George and Jane's small watercolor portraits should not count, but her sisters had insisted on paying her for them.
Lizzy giggled. “He ain’t never sold a thing, miss. His teaching brings in the blunt.”
Precisely as Emma had thought. “Oliver, come along.”
Oliver grunted and then mumbled, “Not now. I need to sleep this off.”
Emma glanced over at Lizzy and Bowles, desperately trying to determine how to extradite herself from the situation. The look of contempt in Bowles’ brown eyes gave her a start. “I shall be going, then.”
Bowles nudged Lizzy to get up and see her out. “When do I start?”
Emma felt a wave of shock at his gall. “You do not start, sir. I will find another instructor. Good day.”
“But miss, it’s still damp,” Lizzy said, picking up the cloak from the chair near the fire.
“And it’s still raining, so I don’t believe it will matter.” Emma strode to Lizzy, grabbed her garment. Wrapping her wet cloak around her, Emma shivered. She glanced back and realized no one would open the door for her. With a sigh, she strode to the door and flung it open.
And stared into the cold blue eyes of Simon Kingsley.
Chapter 15
Simon stared in dismay at Emma’s equally shocked face. When he’d paid a call on Miss Lancaster to learn more about Emma’s list, he hadn’t counted on receiving information about Emma’s current scheme. Once he told Miss Lancaster he was speaking to her on behalf of Louisa, Miss Lancaster had seemed happy to unburden herself to him regarding Emma’s recent escapades.
“Kingsley, whatever are you doing at Mr. Bowles's home?” She moved to the side and waved him in with a broad smile. “Do go in.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “I should warn you that they are all deep in their cups.”
He might have laughed at her bravado, but the seriousness of the situation stopped him. “Miss Drake, I have a carriage waiting outside for you.”
“Oh, there is no need. I came with Oliver, Susan Lancaster’s brother.”
